Killing of the Light
Richard A. Perez Jr.
You never know when the last curtain will be drawn. I dug on some cinema gold during the late 1980’s-early 2000’s. I could rattle off some of the classics, but the list would stretch like the Great Wall of China. But since I’m here and my over-the-hill memory is still intact, let me peel off just a few for your interest and bragging rights: Full Metal Jacket, Trainspotting, Return of the Jedi, Colors, Rocky 4, Training Day…
I was a pretty good lad during these cinematic times, rarely sneaking in outside food and paying full admission at the door. If my local Edwards in Monterey Park was not showing a particular title, I would make the 15-minute public transit towards the next city over. The Edwards Alhambra seemed to offer better amenities. I played a game of chess until Alhambra won at the end. Chalk it up to bigger elbow room seating and title selection galore.
Since high school was a bummer, spending the weekends at the Alhambra was a refuge from my failing grades and math tutor. In class, I sat in the back with the ‘rough’ crowd, cracking jokes and playing the clown. Entering the theater, I was usually in the center row bringing my good manners, keeping my Chuck Taylor’s down and setting myself on mute. I tried to absorb every action, sci-fi, horror, etc., but there was this thing called ‘graduation’ that was getting in the way.
By the skin of my teeth, I walked with my graduating class. During the summer of 1992, I was surfing along midnight cable channels catching Slacker. My eyes glued grossly relating to these people who didn’t do much and sorta just wandered through life. I gave the film two thumbs up, way up for its originality. It was like a fresh stick of gum for my late 80’s mainstream tongue.
Since Alhambra did not offer any independent releases, I would trek over to the next two cities. The Laemmle Pasadena screened Barton Fink, Reservoir Dogs and midnight showings of Eraserhead. The attendance and vibe were more mature and sophisticated, not loud and sometimes delinquent like my neighborhood theater.
I did keep the Alhambra in my pocket, just in case something ‘different’ mainstream-wise would pop up. I didn’t want to forget my original Earth. When Colors and Boyz in the Hood were released, Alhambra Pd was there ‘just in case’ something was going to happen. Viewing these films in my own area not only felt comfortable but was more relatable, due to some of my friends and former classmates being active gang members.
I went through a nasty snob phase, turning up my nose on movies that casted Bruce Willis or The Terminator or anything that was laced with unnecessary explosions, boneheaded car chase scenes, and corny tough guy dialogue. One boring summer, the cat got the best of me, and I decided to sneak in the back corridor to see the first Fast and The Furious. I only sat long enough to kill my 24 oz bottle of Stella Artois, buzzing over to the next room to see Donnie Darko for the second time.
The ‘shit’ or the shift came roughly around 2008. I noticed Hollywood was getting HollyWIRED on some serious hot trash. I did dig The Dark Knight and Watchmen, but the whole Marvel franchise and other comic-book-turned-Hollywood that seemed to be steel toe stomping was just not my cup of coffee. On top of the rising cost of admission and concession, I found waiting for something good on Redbox, Netflix, a pirate version on DVD or illegal download would make more sense. Swallowing a barrel of popcorn and drowning in a gallon of soda is not the same when it’s in the comfort of your living quarters, but there was a time when I had to decide for a weekend escape that would not endanger my economy.
I will admit under oath that not paying for a ticket and waiting till it came out later or sooner on DVD and online did have its own cost. Life size movie posters that loomed in the lobby area. The opening curtain, the killing of the lights and the trailers; the classic ‘scenes’ of the theater itself were absent.
When I saw the Rocky 4 premiere, almost the entire room roared when Balboa avenged the death of Apollo Creed by defeating Ivan Drago by TKO. When Luke Skywalker unmasked Darth Vader, the entire room was paused in suspense. We all got goosebumps during the beginning of Pulp Fiction while hearing the snapping of beer bottles and cans.
I took many dates to Alhambra. Although most of them were a bust, there was one ghost I carved onto its sidewalk. Before viewing Twilight in its third week of release, my date told me to turn my back on her and wait for a big surprise. Hoping it would not be a steak knife. I was shown an Edward doll that she stuffed in her purse. When her back was turned, I considered flapping my wings but soldiered through the entire movie and date. During the film, I was asked if I was Team Edward or Team Jacob. I told her that I was N/A like a question that didn’t relate to me on a job application.
There was a nasty rumor floating around the neighborhood that the Alhambra was having a problem keeping the lights on. Attendance was low. Weekly specials were heavily advertised to drum in business. A patron had fallen to her death on the top level of the parking garage which turned out to be an ‘accident’.
I managed to be swallowed by the belly of the beast, making the 20-25-minute treks towards the Hollywood Arclight. My tongue got peculiar around 2007, only interested in watching more thought-provoking films or some regrettable pretentious art film. I was spending a little more time and bread in Tinseltown but when you’re comfortably slumped into a reclining chair, legally drinking a beer inside and watching No Country for Old Men along a stretch of Sunset Blvd, it doesn’t get more velvet rope than that.
Good times were had at these venues, but I was not thoroughly rinsed in warm water and dried in nostalgia that the Edwards Alhambra had given me.
Many years later, I was living with my ex-girlfriend about 10 minutes away from the theater. I was curious to see how the theater was holding up or onto. As we passed by its main street, a THANK YOU was lettered on the marque. I gave her some painted layers of the screen’s past.
The theater was destroyed during my freshman year in high school by a 5.9 earthquake in 1987. It resurfaced a week before my 33rd birthday on May 17, 1991.
July 2011. Upon transferring to another bus line towards home, I was fortunate enough to see the wrecking ball finishing what was left of the theater. I sat on the bus bench with my back straight, eyes fixed, my cinema experience now dusted. No curtains, no lights, and no sequel.