It's down to the last (outdoor) picture show
Friday, 26 July 1996STARLIGHT 9D
Hans Pedersen, Special to The Arizona Daily Star
THE ARIZONA DAILY STAR
At the drive-in, you only have to swerve your neck to catch your favorite disaster scene from ``Independence Day'' once again.
Outdoor multiple-screen drive-ins are like multimedia events, with dynamic Technicolor frames hanging from the heavens. Watching four movies outdoors at the same time is a bit surreal.
It's also a bit more difficult than it used to be.
In 1975, Tucson had eight drive-in theaters. In 1985, only three had endured. By 1995, the DeAnza Drive-In, at 1401 S. Alvernon Way, just off 22nd Street, was the sole survivor among Tucson's outdoor theaters.
General manager Ewart Edwards, a congenial 62-year-old with a professional demeanor, has worked for the DeAnza Land and Leisure Corp. for more than 33 years and witnessed the industry's troughs and humps.
The Los Angeles-based company owns six other drive-ins in California, Utah and New Jersey. Over the years it has turned its attention more toward shopping centers and other rental properties, mostly in California.
With the Tucson outdoor market to itself, the DeAnza is bustling with bodies, even on weeknights. Lines of cars snake from far down the street toward the entrance. What other forces keep the DeAnza hopping?
``Cheaper admission prices,'' Edwards said. Adults pay $5 each, kids 13-17 pay $3.50, and pre-teens get in free.
In the 1950s, drive-ins were social vortexes in Tucson. They almost outnumbered indoor theaters by a ratio of 2-to-1.
``The drive-ins went through different phases,'' recalled Edwards, rustling through a catalog of memories of pre-showtime promotional events like watermelon busts, lookalike contests and tugs-of-war over portable swimming pools.
At the Cactus Drive-In (which changed its name to DeAnza on Feb. 1, 1977), kids with permission slips from their parents could enter on foot and sit in seats in front of the concession stand.
For the premiere of the John Wayne movie ``McLintock!'' (1963), which was filmed at Old Tucson, props, sets and costumed gunslingers from the amusement park made the trip around Gates Pass to stage a show at the old Midway Drive-In at 4500 E. Speedway.
For the 1964 premiere of The Beatles movie ``A Hard Day's Night,'' Edwards' associate, Jim Hilkemeyer, booked mop-haired bands to play during intermission at the Midway.
But despite such sideshows, several factors killed off our nation's drive-ins during the 1970s. Land values soared, especially in Tucson and its outskirts.
The quality of indoor theater sound improved, and cost-efficient multiplex theaters multiplied through the cities.
The advent of cable television and VCRs in the 1980s also hampered the industry. And, although daytime swap meets began to provide extra revenue for drive-ins elsewhere, Tucson's 115-degree summers prohibited the success of outdoor flea markets.
In the checkered history of outdoor theaters, the type of film that played was also a crucial factor to success.
``In the late '50s and early '60s, drive-ins got a reputation for motorcycle and beach party pictures . . . and seemed to aim for the teen-age audience only. The family movies seemed to disappear for a while,'' Edwards explained.
The return of Disney films to drive-ins brought the families back in the mid-'70s. Multiple screens also emerged in the '70s.
These days, first-run blockbusters have washed ``Beach Blanket Bingo''-style flicks off the DeAnza's four screens - but teen-agers and people in their 20s still make up much of the audience.
The movies have changed, but Edwards has been projecting the same delightfully hokey, old-time refreshment clips for more than 20 years, with new copies arriving every five years as the celluloid deteriorates.
Speaking authoritatively and without a trace of irony, the announcer in these clips states brightly, ``Hamburgers. Grilled to your taste.'' (Pause. Pause.) ``Fresh milk daily.'' (Pause. Pause.)
With production values from the 1950s and the pacing of a death scene, these kitschy refreshment-time clips are specters of an era when drive-ins held mystique, and sales pitches were unpolished and absurdly simple.
Savoring such campy nostalgia is just a part of today's drive-in experience. More than the brief escape offered by indoor theaters, drive-in double features are still evening-length events.
The ritual used to begin by backing and filling until your car was close enough to a speaker post for you to pull in a speaker. Today, crystal clear FM radio sound has eliminated the old tinny audio. But if your car radio is on the blink, only one of the DeAnza's four screen setups carries speakers.
Whether you're hanging a speaker from your window or boosting the Blaupunkt, your car offers the privacy of home in a public setting. You can smoke, wear jammies, bring snacks, and put your feet up on the dash. But you can also still watch a movie on a social level, with an audience, and even honk when the refreshment reel rolls.
The drive-in is not only a private yet public outing; it is a living monument to nostalgia.
Return to Drive-Ins