Radio City Music Hall
1260 6th Avenue,
New York,
NY
10020
1260 6th Avenue,
New York,
NY
10020
118 people
favorited this theater
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1961 “Parrish"
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This plan, reproduced in each Showplace Program up through the early ‘60s, projects an optical illusion, or at least a misleading ratio since the mezzanine sketches do not share the same scale as the orchestra sketch. If you measure the width of the mezzanines as compared with that of the orchestra, or the opening of the mezzanine promenades as compared with that of the Grand Foyer, you’ll find that the scale of the upper levels is magnified by comparison with that of the ground floor.
This disproportion vexed me as a kid who studied such architectural plans compulsively. I’d never set foot in the first mezzanine, which held only reserved seating during the film years, but when as a teenager I eventually climbed to the second and third mezzanines with cartons of Philip Morris to puff on, I recognized the difference immediately.
What a classy coming attractions announcement for “The Nun’s Story”, as befitting one of the finest movies ever made. Out of all the excellent movies Audrey made, I’d choose this one as her best. The long-awaited DVD release is set for November 8th.
Here’s a program from May, 1959:
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We all liked Shirley MacLaine, ever since we first saw her in “The Trouble with Harry,†and we thought she’d make a great comedienne. I’ll never forget seeing her arrive at the World Premiere of “Around the World in Eighty Days†on television in October ’56. In those days, all the big B’way premieres were televised live on the local NYC Dumont network channel 5, and “Around†was no exception. As La Shirley stepped from her limo, the interviewer asked her how she acquired such a wacky hair-do, and she giggled, “With an eggbeater,†and then swept grandly into the Rivoli. We speculated that she was ever so tipsy from Champagne and that we’d love to see her again. The Todd-AO spectacle proved disappointing as it allowed her no scope for madcap hilarity, so we waited for the proper comic vehicle to display her talents.
And waited. In January ’59, “Some Came Running†(an RCMH “adult†film, booked for the January post-holiday sober set) gave her an opportunity to act tipsy and boused again, but not really funny. Then in May came “Ask Any Girl,†with its promise of airy sexcapade. But I found the film leaden and predictable. And I don’t recall a single act from the stage show, even though the female violinist, the coloratura, and their crowd wore pajamas and peignoirs. All I remember was the terrific excitement that Audrey Hepburn would follow in “The Nun’s Story,†a book that as a Catholic high school kid I had read amid great controversy about its realistic treatment of religious vocation. A year later MacLaine would hit her stride with “The Apartment,†allowing her to act by turns tipsy and funny.
renders thank you , you brought back alot of very found memories.i was there for alot of openings, it felt good to relive those wonderful times. thanks again
Earlier posts about “Norh by Northwest” reminded me of the scene about two hours into the movie when Eva Marie pretends to shoot Gary Grant, there is a young boy extra sitting in the background who puts his fingers in his ears in anticipation of the gun shot. I wonder how Hitch felt about not having noticed that until it was to late.
1933 Cocktail Hour
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I was wrong about the song – it was sung by “The Pennypipers”. It was an early credit for John Williams. He wrote the film’s score and the music for the title song.
I feel bad about Natalie. Now I’m glad I did go to see it in wide release, at the Rivoli in Rutherford NJ. All I can remember about it now is the title song, sung by (I think) the Association. Got to check on that …
Anybody see the film Penelope at the Hall? About as archtypal a New York 60’s comedy as you can get. Natalie Wood at her most beautiful. Lensed in Panavision and glorious 60’s Technicolor(or is it Metrocolor?) With New York looking scrubbed and very glamourous in a way it would never look again. It must have looked great within that sunburst procenium. According to Variety it broke house records.
Then it went wide release and its failure almost cost Wood a breakdown.
I would like to second that, once again Rob Endres has brought us behind the scenes and shared the magic that was/is Radio City.
I never gave much thought to the massive undertaking it was to produce the shows, so much hard work and dedication is quite remarkable really. Thanks for sharing Rob!
Wow, that was something. REeners could write a book on this. Incredible information. This puts a whole new light on the days of yore at the Hall. No one probably even gave this quick change a second thought. I dind’t at the time myself. Just took everything for granted. Again, thanks for sharing some fantastic information from the inside.
I was at the Hall for four years or so of the movie/stage show policy, and remember show change nights well. There are two rehearsal halls above the theatre where the cast practiced. The large hall has the three elevator lines and the turntable radius painted on the floor, and is the same length as the stage. The Rockettes practiced their routines there. There was also a complete Peter Clark built model of the stage in the production office, which at one point even had moving elevators, so minature scenery could be tried out. The picture sheet (screen) had a heavy backing applied to it which also covered the center channel movie speaker which flies out with the sheet. When stereo came in, openings were cut in the backing to make flaps which could be lowered to accomodate the extra channel speakers which rode in on top of the first border of lights. When the flaps were down, the first entrance blacks were closed to keep light and noise from leaking out into the audience. Thus the stage crew could work during the film changing drops and scenery. The scenery was hung on alternate pipes for each production, so the new show could be hung while the current one was still running. The Rockettes had their own dormitory on the 50th street side of the building, and would stay there overnignt on change nights. Lighting call (which also included film effect set up and rehearsal) was at 4 A.M., with full cast due at 6 A.M. for rehearsal until the house opened for the first movie before 10. Since we also screened each of the two prints of the new film before it opened, this meant being there after the last show until 2 A.M. or so for a couple of nights close to the change. In addition, the whole production crew was expected to be there until the last stage show on opening day was completed. In the instance of the first 70mm roadshow presentataions we did when I was there we also had to reinstall overhauled 70mm projectors and a new xenon lamp on one machine, so I just slept in my chair at my desk until the 4 A.M. lighting call even though I was living just five blocks north of the Hall at the time. As frantic as those times were, the load-ins and load-outs after the movie/stage policy ended were even more hectic. I can remember walking into the theatre at 8 A.M. after the first MTV Awards show had been done the night before, and finding stage hands sleeping in the aisles in the orchestra, since they had another large show coming in that day. The cast and crew were able to pull off the changes overnight because everyone’s life pretty much revolved around the theatre and they were used to it. Some of that crew is still there today, and in some cases their grandkids are now working on the crew too. There’s a level of devotion to that theatre that I suspect may be unmatched anywhere else in the country.
BOB I’m glad you finally got to see a stage show.
Does this mean you never saw Serenade to the Stars?
Andrew Sarris said he saw Sunset Boulevard at the Hall 21 times.
North would have been a film I would have seen multiple times at the Hall and preferably with a packed house.
Would like to hear stories from some of the backstage crew who did all that work to ready for the next days morning show. Also, where did the people who were in the shows rehearse? Was there a replica of the RCMH stage downstairs?
>>That summer my friends cheated on me by sneaking out to see “The Nun’s Story†at RCMH while I was at work.
BoxOfficeBill, you are the gayest thing out there, and I mean that in a nice way!
I was only 4 years old when these great classics played the Hall in 1959, but Bill’s amazingly detailed memories are the next best thing to having been there too. As for the programs, my printer sure is getting a workout.
What a great post Bill!
I wonder if REndres has any stories he may have heard of what had to have been a very busy night dressing the Great Stage between engagements.
On second thought, why not post it today, in honor of having seen it there exactly forty-six years ago last night? Here’s my Program from the week beginning 30 July, 1959, acquired on 5 August, 1959:
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That summer my friends cheated on me by sneaking out to see “The Nun’s Story†at RCMH while I was at work. Whether or not they thought I’d care to see Audrey Hepburn in a wimple, I was determined to catch that film on the screen where it had premiered. Plus, the stage show had boasted of a wacky finale that depicted the burning of Nome, Alaska, with real fire. So, on the final day of its run, I left work, returned home, ate a sullen supper, and then told my mom I was going off to see some Doris Day romp at the RKO Dyker. [Editor’s note: never trust a liar; Doris Day’s “It Happened to Jane†actually played at Loew’s Alpine that week; the co-feature was “Hey Boy! Hey Girl!†with Louis Prima and Keely Smith.] I then sneaked on to the BMT and arrived at RCMH just as the orchestra was rising for the very last performance of its collegiate overture.
I felt I owed it to myself and to my job to do that. This job, which I held for ten weeks each summer during my last two years of high school and first three years of college, kept me running around the city as a foot-messenger bearing documents and receiving signatures in the days before FAX and e-mail attachments made such work practically obsolete. My employer, a ship-building firm (now also practically obsolete, at least in the USA), entertained corporate clients at B’way shows and Yankees baseball games. When it became apparent to my boss that I knew more about the former than anyone in the shipyard, he dispatched me every day, often twice a day, and sometimes three or more times a day, to Times Square to procure tickets. Whenever I behaved badly, he dispatched me instead to Yankee Stadium, which I really didn’t mind because I could always read a book during the long subway ride. The upshot was that I spent a fair amount of time in the summers of ‘58-’62 scouring the theater district, chatting up box office managers, and doping out the best way to get the best seats for the hits of the time. Though it was only a movie, “Gigi†was one of those hits on reserved seats in ’58 at the Royale. And though it was only a movie which would soon wind up at the RKO Dyker [Editor’s note: really there, yes], “The Nun’s Story†in ’59 stood at the top of my must-see list.
It was the first and only time that I attended a last-night performance at RCMH. Part of the thrill was wondering how in the world the stagehands might strike the old sets and mount the new ones before the doors re-opened the next morning. Though I could imagine that backstage activity was always frenetic, I could only guess how scores of workers disassembled flats lining the choral stairways and then assembled their replacements, with set designers, stage managers, lighting crew, and other experts barking orders as the time flew by. If it took me hours to set up one Christmas tree each December, how could RCMH staff set up scores between midnight and dawn? And in the case of this show’s flaming finale, who would rush the smoldering timbers of Nome off the stage to make way for the spectacular “Serenade to the Stars†announced for the next day? Whew, it gave me a headache to think of it.
As it happened, the stage show proceeded luxe, calm, and voluptuous, with no hint of haste or who-gives-a-damn-at-this-point. And the film unfolded stately and serene on the fabulous screen, with no sound of hammers or hoists or drilling backstage. And when the contour curtain descended silently on the lone angelus bell at the movie’s end, the houselights came up and the organ came out to disperse the still nearly-full house with solemn exit music. It was a class act in serenity. Finding myself outside in the sultry August night on 50 Street, I saw that the display cases had been changed and the marquee retitled. I walked around the corner to 51 Street and found it cordoned off, ablaze in floodlight as stageworkers hauled scenery out the side doors and onto trucks, waving onwards other trucks packed with scenery ready to be unloaded. It was a beehive of activity. It all seemed unreal when I returned less than forty-five hours later to see “North by Northwest.†Meanwhile, I reported to my mom that I had found the Doris Day romp so good that I stayed to see the entire double feature twice, well past midnight.
I do, and will post it next Thursday, or the Thursday after.
Thanks, Bill. Of all the Radio City programs I’d want to see, that one for “North by Northwest” might be my #1 choice. I’m really glad you saved it for all these 46 years, and thanks too for sharing your memories of the night you saw it. You don’t happen to have the program for “The Nun’s Story” laying around the house, do you?
Here’s a Program from 6 August, 1959:
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The film opened forty-six years ago to this very day. The next morning’s newspapers carried rave reviews, and my cinemaniac friends immediately began phoning around to arrange meeting on West 50th Street for the Friday evening show. We only half-believed the reviews, since we imagined that both Hitchcock and Grant were getting a little too old for this sort of thing. But we turned out anyway to check for ourselves.
To our amazement when we arrived, the line stretched around the block. On that sultry evening, the ushers were barking their familiar chant: “The last stage show has already begun; tickets are now on sale for the final showing of the movie only.†When we reached the box-office forty-five minutes later, the ushers were barking, “The final showing of the movie is about to begin; there is some seating in the side rear sections only.†We raced up to the third mezzanine (we wanted to smoke, anyway) and found seats just as Richard Leibert was finishing up his organ solo. Then the picture began, and the rest became history.
Some months ago (4 April ’05), Vincent asked on this page whether audiences laughed at the closing shot of the train entering the tunnel. Well, yes, my friends and I did. You must know that we were exceptionally dirty-minded teenagers, prone to invent double entendres even when there were none. Of course, the mildly (but only mildly) repressed culture of the late ‘50s encouraged such double entendres, and our elders surely joined us in the guffaws. What I most remember about that packed house was the hush, the thrill, the sense of unison in laughter and relief. And when the huge audience emptied out after the last frame, the unusually animated talk, the giggles, andâ€"on meâ€"the sweaty palms of my hands still moist from that breathtakingly acrophobic finale.
That still leads to the debate, and that may be forever lasting.
No Gustave is right. 1776 did play in the summer of 76 at the Hall. I don’t know when Harry opened exactly but it is probable on 7/4 1776 was still there. I was ushering at the time and it replaced The Blue Bird which people literally could not sit through and would leave or wait in the lobby until it was over. I could never watch the whole thing myself. In the 70’s even the greats had lost their talent.
Harry was the first Music Hall film to open simultaneiously in the local suburbs. That was it for the Hall as a presentation house.
Thanks Gustavelifting.