Saratoga Stereopticon
Sam foiled again, thanks to Vitaphone Theater
By Willys Peck
When it comes to inevitability, Sam is right up there with death and taxes, Sam being the acronymic Subliminal Argumentative Mouthing, my all-too-present inner voice. He is particularly intrusive when the deadline for this column approaches and I have no clear idea of what to write about.
"Face it, sonny boy," says Sam, "it's towel-tossing time. Four and a half years of this and you're just plain running out of Saratoga material, if not writing talent. Give yourself and the readers a break. Pack it in."
"I'm an old newspaperman, and I have a lot of old newspapers," I said, shuffling through a pile of same. "Also, I do my best work under deadline pressure."
"So?" Sam bored in.
"Ah, here's a clipping from 1985 about the old Saratoga Vitaphone Theater that was about to close."
"Curses," said Sam, "foiled again. I'm not about to compete with Pat Moore, even if you've already written about him. November 1997 I believe it was."
"Well," I rationalized, "there may be some people who have arrived since then and who don't realize Saratoga had a movie theater for 38 years."
"Stand by for the Yawn Patrol," yawned Sam, "a true test of reader tolerance."
Actually, it should be noted that the first movie venue in town was the then-new Saratoga Foothill Clubhouse. In 1916, there was a public subscription drive for purchase of a movie projector, and a theater-size Power's Cameragraph was acquired.
The late Arch Brolly Sr., a driving force in establishment of the present Historical Museum, said he recalled being hired as a high school student to turn the crank on the ponderous machine while the projectionist kept the carbon arc in adjustment. It is worth noting that, in later years, Brolly was in on the ground floor in developing television, the medium that changed the face of the movie industry. During the 1930s, movies were shown on Friday nights at the grammar school on Oak Street, I believe under auspices of the PTA.
It wasn't until 1947 that Saratoga got its first and only movie theater. There was a vacant lot at the southwest corner of Third Street and Big Basin Way, with a large, handsome oak tree in the middle of it. When this tree was cut down to make room for what seemed an ungainly Quonset hut, a lot of people were upset to the point of refusing to patronize the movie theater for which it was built. You don't
see many Quonset huts these days; the corrugated-iron, half-elliptical structures were a common sight on World War II military bases and elsewhere. Today, I doubt
that a downtown Quonset would get by the Saratoga Planning Commission. The section of the theater fronting on Big Basin Way was a regular two-story building and the lower portion of the Quonset was stuccoed, so it wasn't really all that unsightly. Inside, it couldn't have been better, when it came to decor, acoustics, sight lines and seat comfort. The "cry room" was a boon to parents with small children.
Mason Shaw, the proprietor, knew his medium and his clientele, and he booked only high-quality films; the Saratoga Theater was a real community asset. In 1974, Shaw leased the theater to Pat and Vi Moore. They played the nostalgia card, ultimately changing the name to the Vitaphone, after the first movie sound process utilizing phonograph records. "All talking pictures tonight" proclaimed a sign in front. Pat Moore added a folksy element by offering a between-features commentary and feeding his cat, Henrietta, onstage.
One event especially sticks in mind. In 1979, the Historical Foundation was able to put together a benefit showing of The Adventures of Robin Hood, starring Errol Flynn and Olivia De Havilland. It was at a time when Olivia, who grew up in Saratoga, was able to be present and give a talk before the film. I kept my fingers crossed; silently I beseeched, "Please, Pat, don't feed that blasted cat onstage tonight. This is a class act." He didn't; his remarks were brief and appropriate, and I, as Historical Foundation president, introduced Olivia. Afterward, she greeted guests at a champagne reception at the Foothill Club.
That really was the second time I had appeared on the same stage with Olivia. The first was in 1933 when she starred in Alice in Wonderland and I played a duck. Three years later, I had the title role in The Cricket on the Hearth, progressing, or retrogressing, from fowl to insect.
Sam would like that.
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Saratoga, California Since 1955
