I wrote this piece in 2005, when the Lafayette Theatre in Suffern, NY was named one of the country's Ten Best Cinema Treasures by the authors of "Cinema Treasures: A New Look at Classic Movie Theatres."
According to most scientists, time travel is not possible. Sure, it's been the subject of many classic films -- "The Time Machine" and "Back to the Future" to name a few -- but the physics just do not exist for it to work in reality.
Yet, on any given Saturday afternoon, that's just what many people do when they walk through the doors of the Lafayette Theater in Suffern, New York.
Owned and operated by Fort Lee Film Commission Chairman Nelson Page, the Lafayette Theater-which offers both first-run and classic films-recalls the golden age of film, when movie audiences bought tickets to theaters, not just movies.
Located off Route 59, The Lafayette Theater is a movie palace in the tradition of the old Loew's theaters, and was recently named one of the country's Ten Best Cinema Treasures by the authors of "Cinema Treasures: A New Look at Classic Movie Theaters".
"Everybody wants that nostalgic experience," Page said about his approach to the exhibition of movies.
Nostalgia was one of the driving forces behind Page's restoration of the 80-year-old movie house.
Built in 1924, the Lafayette Theater reflected the era's attention to style and comfort, creating an experience for the moviegoer.
"You know, it's like what Marcus Loew said, 'We sell tickets to theaters, not movies'," Page commented.
Over the years, the Lafayette-with it's 1,000 seat auditorium, and it's ornate chandelier, and opera boxes on either side of the auditorium-fell into disrepair.
Although it was still a destination for many film lovers through the '80's and '90's, the spirit of the Lafayette was no more than a phantom-as tangible as the flickering images projected on the screen.
Page said he still remembers his first visit to the Lafayette in the early '80's. "I saw 'Something Wicked This Way Comes'. And I thought 'One day this theater will be mine'. I didn't see what was wrong with it-the bland paint and dirty seats and floors-I saw how it could be."
In 2002 Page's Galaxy Theater Corporation purchased the Lafayette and began the process of restoring the theater to its former glory.
This included repairing the seats, reinstalling a chandelier, and giving the auditorium a new coat of paint.
"When I was going to the theater as a customer, the walls were painted white. There had been sconces on the walls, but no one could tell because they were painted over."
With a classic red, green, and gold color scheme, the Lafayette offers movie audiences what Page calls "opulence on a budget."
Page recalled a recent film festival at the Lafayette featuring Stanley Kubrick's "2001: A Space Odyssey."
"We had one of the stars, Gary Lockwood, as a guest speaker. And we were in the lobby, which is-deliberately-plain and unremarkable. I was talking to Gary before he walked into the auditorium and I said, 'Enjoy the theater'. And he looked at me kind of puzzled, then he walked in. A few minutes later, he came out enthusiastically saying, 'Oh my god! Have you seen inside? I can't believe it!'
"That's the effect we're trying to go for. The lobby is subdued, but when you walk into the auditorium, you're blown away. It's like our way of telling a story."
In keeping with the golden age of cinema experience, the Lafayette features live organ music played by organist Jeff Barker before most screenings. Barker also plays during the theater's silent movie festivals.
"Everything I ever wanted to do in this business culminates in the Lafayette," Page enthused. "You have to remember to give the audience what they want. This is a shared experience, and I try to touch all the right notes -- we try to educate, and we try to entertain."
Page attempts to do both through the Big Screen Classics presentations, that feature older movies that appeal to both mainstream audiences and those with more avant-garde tastes. For Page and his staff, preparing these schedules is a balancing act.
"We schedule movies that will appeal to a wide audience-popular, classic movies," Page commented. "But we also try to through in some personal favorites that might be a little more obscure. Like for me, last season it was 'Portrait of Jennie'."
On a recent Saturday, Big Screen Classics screened Orson Welles' film noir classic "Touch of Evil."
"He was some kind of a man," Marlene Dietrich nostalgically emotes before she walks off into the night.
And the Lafayette is some kind of a theater.
Thursday, June 18, 2009
A Star Wars Review from 2005
I wrote this review of Star Wars Episode III: Revenge of the Sith after a midnite premiere screening at Abbey Cinemas in West Milford, NJ. This review won an NJSPJ award for best review writing in 2005.
"You will discover emotions you thought you had lost as a child," I was told by someone who had seen "Star Wars Episode III Revenge of the Sith" at a charity screening weeks before the premiere.
So it was with this inner child in tow that I went to Abbie Cinemas in West Milford to see a midnight screening of the final installment of a film series that has affected popular culture like no other film before it.
The members of the audience came from all walks of life. Yes, there were high school students, but there were also families-parents who grew up with the saga on the big screen, and their children who grew up with it on VHS. And there were the twentysomethings-we who collected toys and commerative glasses from fast food chains.
As with the premiere of Episode I, the audience cheered when the 20th Century Fox logo and Fanfare first appeared. They cheered when the Lucasfilm logo first appeared. And they cheered even louder with the first chords of the Star Wars Main Theme and the iconic opening crawl that stretches out into the infinity of the galaxy.
They reacted just as they would if they had been encountering an old friend. Which is exactly what the Star Wars universe is to the people of my generation. As I looked around the room, I realized that most of the people in attendence, however, were no older than high school seniors - probably not even alive when the last of the orignal trilogy movies (Return of the Jedi) was released in 1983.
Was their experience, then, any different from mine? After all, I had been with the saga from the very beginning. I was there with Luke when he received his "call to adventure." I was there when Han was frozen in carbonite. I was there when a band of primitive furballs helped take down the Empire.
In a way, seeing the final installment of this saga felt like the end of my own "hero's journey." Then again, according to Lucas mentor Joseph Campbell, aren't we all on that journey?
And that really is the point of the movies. Lucas set out to create what is known as "monomyth" - a tale that incorporates the archetypes of all the great myths of the world. The Star Wars saga was meant to stimulate the imaginations of everyone who experienced it,regardless of age, religion, or gender.
Throughout the entire saga, we have been introduced to archetypes whose incarnations span the whole of the world's cultures. From the samurai inspired Jedi order, to Luke Skywalker the reluctant hero, to Anakin Skywalker the tragic hero, the characters and events that make upthe Star Wars universe resonate within the audience because they are really part of what Carl Jung called "the collective unconscious" - the myth models that everyone is born with and exist in our subconscious minds.
It was this idea, which was further explored by scholar and writer Joseph Campbell, that Lucas adopted as the basis for his space opera. Much has been written about Lucas' cinematicinfluences - Kurosawa's samurai epics, the Flash Gordon serials, even The Wizard of Oz - but it was the idea of all the world mythologies having a common bond that spurredhis creative impulses.
Lucas drew much inspiration from Campbell's influential work "The Hero with a Thousand Faces," which explored the similarities between various cultures myths, and how they rely on narrative archetypes that propel the story and give it emotional weight.
The story of fallen Jedi Anakin Skywalker - the man who would be Vader - is the true narrative arc of the saga, and the prequel trilogy explores his descent into the Dark Side of the Force. His story is ripe with classical archetypes, namely the catalyst for his fall. InCampbell's "Hero" he speaks of the influence of the mother on the child's life. "Anyprolonged absence of the parent causes tension in the infant and consequent impulses of aggression," Campbell writes. In Episode II, we learn that Anakin's mother, a slave on Tatooine, had been abducted and murdered by Tusken Raiders. His slaughter of her killers in an act of revenge, sowed the seeds for his fall from grace.
By Episode III, Anakin is married to Padme, who informs him that she is pregnant. In prescient dreams, Anakin learns that she will die in childbirth. He also learns that Dark Side powers can grant a practitioner control over death itself. But death is a natural part of life, and as Campbell meditates we must say "yes" to death in order to say "yes" to life as well. Anakin's denial of a natural part of living is the impetous for his descent, and it is up to his children to redeem him.
After all, "Vader" is Dutch for father, and their existence reawakens the compassion of the parent that has been dormant for so long.
Throughout this final installment, Lucas makes connections to the fondly remembered original trilogy-when we first see Padme, she sports a hairdo reminiscent of Princess Leia's cinnamon roll haircut; even the beloved Millenium Falcon makes a brief appearance.
However, the real reason people flocked to see Episode III was to see the transformation of Anakin Skywalker into the iconic Darth Vader-and this "rebirth" carries the emotional weight of a grand opera. Even the final image is evocative of an iconic moment from the original trilogy.
Just as Episode III links the new trilogy to the original trilogy, fans who were there from the beginning will rediscover a link to the innocence and imagination of childhood.
"You will discover emotions you thought you had lost as a child," I was told by someone who had seen "Star Wars Episode III Revenge of the Sith" at a charity screening weeks before the premiere.
So it was with this inner child in tow that I went to Abbie Cinemas in West Milford to see a midnight screening of the final installment of a film series that has affected popular culture like no other film before it.
The members of the audience came from all walks of life. Yes, there were high school students, but there were also families-parents who grew up with the saga on the big screen, and their children who grew up with it on VHS. And there were the twentysomethings-we who collected toys and commerative glasses from fast food chains.
As with the premiere of Episode I, the audience cheered when the 20th Century Fox logo and Fanfare first appeared. They cheered when the Lucasfilm logo first appeared. And they cheered even louder with the first chords of the Star Wars Main Theme and the iconic opening crawl that stretches out into the infinity of the galaxy.
They reacted just as they would if they had been encountering an old friend. Which is exactly what the Star Wars universe is to the people of my generation. As I looked around the room, I realized that most of the people in attendence, however, were no older than high school seniors - probably not even alive when the last of the orignal trilogy movies (Return of the Jedi) was released in 1983.
Was their experience, then, any different from mine? After all, I had been with the saga from the very beginning. I was there with Luke when he received his "call to adventure." I was there when Han was frozen in carbonite. I was there when a band of primitive furballs helped take down the Empire.
In a way, seeing the final installment of this saga felt like the end of my own "hero's journey." Then again, according to Lucas mentor Joseph Campbell, aren't we all on that journey?
And that really is the point of the movies. Lucas set out to create what is known as "monomyth" - a tale that incorporates the archetypes of all the great myths of the world. The Star Wars saga was meant to stimulate the imaginations of everyone who experienced it,regardless of age, religion, or gender.
Throughout the entire saga, we have been introduced to archetypes whose incarnations span the whole of the world's cultures. From the samurai inspired Jedi order, to Luke Skywalker the reluctant hero, to Anakin Skywalker the tragic hero, the characters and events that make upthe Star Wars universe resonate within the audience because they are really part of what Carl Jung called "the collective unconscious" - the myth models that everyone is born with and exist in our subconscious minds.
It was this idea, which was further explored by scholar and writer Joseph Campbell, that Lucas adopted as the basis for his space opera. Much has been written about Lucas' cinematicinfluences - Kurosawa's samurai epics, the Flash Gordon serials, even The Wizard of Oz - but it was the idea of all the world mythologies having a common bond that spurredhis creative impulses.
Lucas drew much inspiration from Campbell's influential work "The Hero with a Thousand Faces," which explored the similarities between various cultures myths, and how they rely on narrative archetypes that propel the story and give it emotional weight.
The story of fallen Jedi Anakin Skywalker - the man who would be Vader - is the true narrative arc of the saga, and the prequel trilogy explores his descent into the Dark Side of the Force. His story is ripe with classical archetypes, namely the catalyst for his fall. InCampbell's "Hero" he speaks of the influence of the mother on the child's life. "Anyprolonged absence of the parent causes tension in the infant and consequent impulses of aggression," Campbell writes. In Episode II, we learn that Anakin's mother, a slave on Tatooine, had been abducted and murdered by Tusken Raiders. His slaughter of her killers in an act of revenge, sowed the seeds for his fall from grace.
By Episode III, Anakin is married to Padme, who informs him that she is pregnant. In prescient dreams, Anakin learns that she will die in childbirth. He also learns that Dark Side powers can grant a practitioner control over death itself. But death is a natural part of life, and as Campbell meditates we must say "yes" to death in order to say "yes" to life as well. Anakin's denial of a natural part of living is the impetous for his descent, and it is up to his children to redeem him.
After all, "Vader" is Dutch for father, and their existence reawakens the compassion of the parent that has been dormant for so long.
Throughout this final installment, Lucas makes connections to the fondly remembered original trilogy-when we first see Padme, she sports a hairdo reminiscent of Princess Leia's cinnamon roll haircut; even the beloved Millenium Falcon makes a brief appearance.
However, the real reason people flocked to see Episode III was to see the transformation of Anakin Skywalker into the iconic Darth Vader-and this "rebirth" carries the emotional weight of a grand opera. Even the final image is evocative of an iconic moment from the original trilogy.
Just as Episode III links the new trilogy to the original trilogy, fans who were there from the beginning will rediscover a link to the innocence and imagination of childhood.
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
Adventures in Speed Dating
This article appeared in the Valentine's Day edition of the paper in 2005. For research, I went to an Speed Dating event in Hasbrouck Heights, NJ. Because my editor at the time didn't like first person stories, I had to invent "Barry" to be my surrogate in the article.
In the corner of the bar, a lonely old lady nurses a half-filled glass of white wine. Her face is a mirror to every romantic disappointment and bitter dissolution of long ago love affairs.
"I don't want to end up like that," Barry confesses over a Miller Lite and a cigarette. "Drinking alone in a bar, surrounded by young people, who must be a constant reminder of the potential of love that will probably never be realized."
He shudders.
"Barry" is no stranger to the dating scene; no stranger to internet dating services and the occasional, "I have a friend who is a perfect for you," blind date. So, he decided to give Speed Dating a try.
"A friend of mine from the office suggested it," Barry explains. "She had heard about it on the news, and didn't want to go alone. So I said, 'Sure,I'll give it a shot'."
In a mad dash to not be alone for Valentine's Day, Barry-a 28-year-old writer from Bogota-accompanied his friend to the Verbena Bistro at the Holiday Inn on Route 17 in Hasbrouck Heights.
Moderated by Irina Tesoriero, 8 Minute Dating sets up single men and women on several 8 minute dates over the course of an evening.
The singles are given a scorecard, and name tags with their first name and an ID number. On the scorecard is a schedule that lists the date number and the table number for that assigned date.
On that Tuesday evening last week, nearly 20 single men and women-between the ages of 25 and 35-brought their hopes for romance to the banquet room of the Verbena Bistro, which was decorated with hearts and Cupids for the holiday season.
As the event begins, the singles find their assigned tables for their first date of the evening. Barry finds himself with an attractive brunette named "Jenna."
Tesoriero explained the ground rules. The participants cannot ask for personal information, like last names or phone numbers, and they cannot set up second dates on their own. The point of this service is to provide a safe dating environment.
For the next 8 minutes, they discuss restaurants, travel, and "what they do for a living." Barry said later that he, "was really digging her. She was interesting; good conversation. But she talked a little too fast, and was a little too chatty, but it was her first time doing this, so she was probably as nervous as I was."
On his scorecard, next to her name and ID number, Barry checked the two boxes that would be used over the course of the evening to rate the date. The three options for the post-date wrap-up are 2nd Date, Friendship, and Business Contact.
For Jenna, Barry marks the 2nd Date and Friendship options.
At the beginning of the event, Tesoriero explained that the participants can select all three options if they really liked the person and wanted to pursue some kind of relationship after the dates are over. All they had to do was go to the Web site -- www.8minutedating.com -- where they registered for the event and sign in using their e-mail address and password.
The participants are then guided through the matching process. Using the names and ID numbers of the evening's dates, they would then select the options they chose for each date. If there is a match, a screen appears with that person's contact information.
Also listed on the back of the scorecard are suggested conversation topics, in case the date falls into an awkward lull-which Barry found would happen regularly for the first couple of dates, till he became more comfortable with the situation.
"It's amazing how quickly you can pick up on a person's personality type, even within the seemingly short span of 8 minutes," Barry commented during the halftime break. "It's almost like a game show, 'Spot the Personality Quirk.'."
Like the one date who kept looking around the room for "better prospects."
"First of all, she had that glazed over, deer caught in headlights look about her. She clearly was not engaged in our conversation; she was really just waiting for her turn to speak. It's like what I was saying was going in one ear and out the other. And then, when I casually glanced down to the cheat sheet for conversation topics, she got offended. 'You think I'm boring? I'm boring to you?' Right away, I knew she had to be insecure. Too bad, she was cute, too."
Perhaps his favorite date of the evening was "Erica," the petite blonde with "amazing green eyes and a warm smile." Barry had his liveliest conversation with this 27-year-old retail buyer from Lodi.
"She was a lot of fun to talk with. Erica was the first girl that I had a real conversation with. I think we really hit it off. There was definitely some kind of chemistry. When the buzzer sounded to end the date, I didn't want to move on; I wanted to hang out with her for a while."
Barry checked all three options for Erica on his scorecard.
Perhaps the worst date of the evening for Barry came in the form of "Linda,"a 31-year-old woman from Clifton who spent half their date in the ladies room.
"She had an allergy attack," Barry explained matter-of-factly. "The flowers on the table irritated her allergies, her eyes started to water and her nose got runny. I hate to say it, but I welcomed the disruption. There was something...off...about her. Honestly, she came across as being a little crazy. Not my type."
Next to her name Barry wrote two simple words, "No way."
As the event comes to a close, several participants find their way into the adjacent lounge for drinks and a postgame wrap-up.
"It's amazing how relaxed the atmosphere was. Before I got here, I was kind of nervous, but after awhile I got into it and was more comfortable."
Barry stamps out his cigarette, settles up with the bartender, and prepares to head out. The lonely old lady with the half-filled glass of wine hangs around, a specter of what could go wrong in the world of the single person.
Epilogue
Barry got to work the next day and immediately signed on to the Web site. With anticipation mounting, he filled out the preliminary survey about the quality of the event.
Then came the moment of truth. He selected the women he wanted to get to know a little better and hit "Submit".
Five grueling seconds later, the Match screen appeared.
He had two matches. Both were for "Friendship"; one of them was his friend who dragged him to the event.
The other one was Erica.
"She selected the 'Friendship' option, and that's cool. I can live with that. At least I wasn't rejected."
In the corner of the bar, a lonely old lady nurses a half-filled glass of white wine. Her face is a mirror to every romantic disappointment and bitter dissolution of long ago love affairs.
"I don't want to end up like that," Barry confesses over a Miller Lite and a cigarette. "Drinking alone in a bar, surrounded by young people, who must be a constant reminder of the potential of love that will probably never be realized."
He shudders.
"Barry" is no stranger to the dating scene; no stranger to internet dating services and the occasional, "I have a friend who is a perfect for you," blind date. So, he decided to give Speed Dating a try.
"A friend of mine from the office suggested it," Barry explains. "She had heard about it on the news, and didn't want to go alone. So I said, 'Sure,I'll give it a shot'."
In a mad dash to not be alone for Valentine's Day, Barry-a 28-year-old writer from Bogota-accompanied his friend to the Verbena Bistro at the Holiday Inn on Route 17 in Hasbrouck Heights.
Moderated by Irina Tesoriero, 8 Minute Dating sets up single men and women on several 8 minute dates over the course of an evening.
The singles are given a scorecard, and name tags with their first name and an ID number. On the scorecard is a schedule that lists the date number and the table number for that assigned date.
On that Tuesday evening last week, nearly 20 single men and women-between the ages of 25 and 35-brought their hopes for romance to the banquet room of the Verbena Bistro, which was decorated with hearts and Cupids for the holiday season.
As the event begins, the singles find their assigned tables for their first date of the evening. Barry finds himself with an attractive brunette named "Jenna."
Tesoriero explained the ground rules. The participants cannot ask for personal information, like last names or phone numbers, and they cannot set up second dates on their own. The point of this service is to provide a safe dating environment.
For the next 8 minutes, they discuss restaurants, travel, and "what they do for a living." Barry said later that he, "was really digging her. She was interesting; good conversation. But she talked a little too fast, and was a little too chatty, but it was her first time doing this, so she was probably as nervous as I was."
On his scorecard, next to her name and ID number, Barry checked the two boxes that would be used over the course of the evening to rate the date. The three options for the post-date wrap-up are 2nd Date, Friendship, and Business Contact.
For Jenna, Barry marks the 2nd Date and Friendship options.
At the beginning of the event, Tesoriero explained that the participants can select all three options if they really liked the person and wanted to pursue some kind of relationship after the dates are over. All they had to do was go to the Web site -- www.8minutedating.com -- where they registered for the event and sign in using their e-mail address and password.
The participants are then guided through the matching process. Using the names and ID numbers of the evening's dates, they would then select the options they chose for each date. If there is a match, a screen appears with that person's contact information.
Also listed on the back of the scorecard are suggested conversation topics, in case the date falls into an awkward lull-which Barry found would happen regularly for the first couple of dates, till he became more comfortable with the situation.
"It's amazing how quickly you can pick up on a person's personality type, even within the seemingly short span of 8 minutes," Barry commented during the halftime break. "It's almost like a game show, 'Spot the Personality Quirk.'."
Like the one date who kept looking around the room for "better prospects."
"First of all, she had that glazed over, deer caught in headlights look about her. She clearly was not engaged in our conversation; she was really just waiting for her turn to speak. It's like what I was saying was going in one ear and out the other. And then, when I casually glanced down to the cheat sheet for conversation topics, she got offended. 'You think I'm boring? I'm boring to you?' Right away, I knew she had to be insecure. Too bad, she was cute, too."
Perhaps his favorite date of the evening was "Erica," the petite blonde with "amazing green eyes and a warm smile." Barry had his liveliest conversation with this 27-year-old retail buyer from Lodi.
"She was a lot of fun to talk with. Erica was the first girl that I had a real conversation with. I think we really hit it off. There was definitely some kind of chemistry. When the buzzer sounded to end the date, I didn't want to move on; I wanted to hang out with her for a while."
Barry checked all three options for Erica on his scorecard.
Perhaps the worst date of the evening for Barry came in the form of "Linda,"a 31-year-old woman from Clifton who spent half their date in the ladies room.
"She had an allergy attack," Barry explained matter-of-factly. "The flowers on the table irritated her allergies, her eyes started to water and her nose got runny. I hate to say it, but I welcomed the disruption. There was something...off...about her. Honestly, she came across as being a little crazy. Not my type."
Next to her name Barry wrote two simple words, "No way."
As the event comes to a close, several participants find their way into the adjacent lounge for drinks and a postgame wrap-up.
"It's amazing how relaxed the atmosphere was. Before I got here, I was kind of nervous, but after awhile I got into it and was more comfortable."
Barry stamps out his cigarette, settles up with the bartender, and prepares to head out. The lonely old lady with the half-filled glass of wine hangs around, a specter of what could go wrong in the world of the single person.
Epilogue
Barry got to work the next day and immediately signed on to the Web site. With anticipation mounting, he filled out the preliminary survey about the quality of the event.
Then came the moment of truth. He selected the women he wanted to get to know a little better and hit "Submit".
Five grueling seconds later, the Match screen appeared.
He had two matches. Both were for "Friendship"; one of them was his friend who dragged him to the event.
The other one was Erica.
"She selected the 'Friendship' option, and that's cool. I can live with that. At least I wasn't rejected."
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
Edison's Frankenstein
I wrote this as an obituary and memorial of a film archivist who possessed the only surviving copy of Thomas Edison's 1912 film production of Frankenstein.
The old man in the tri-corn hat and white cape stood in front of the hotel waiting to greet his coming guests. In one hand, he held a megaphone that also played "On Wisconsin," in honor of his beloved home state. In the other hand was an hourglass.
Al Dettlaff, film collector and self-dubbed "Father Time," waited for members of the Fort Lee Film Commission, who were on their way to meet this quirky old man whom they had heard so much about – an old man who held a living history in his basement. With his long, white beard, and thinning white hair, he probably could have more easily passed for Rip van Winkle.
"That was the first time we saw him," Tom Meyers, executive director of the Fort Lee Film Commission said, "when we went to meet him at the Holiday Inn on Route 4 in Fort Lee."
Dettlaff had been on the East Coast for several events the film commission had planned. These events all centered around screening of a film that turned out to be the Holy Grail of his film collection: the only known existing print of Thomas Edison’s silent film version of "Frankenstein," considered by historians to be the first horror film.
For Dettlaff, it was his claim to fame…and infamy. And long after his death earlier this summer, it is a notoriety that will live on.
On July 26, the 84-year-old Dettlaff was found dead in his Wisconsin home apparently of natural causes. Authorities believe he had been dead a month before he was found. But like Dr. Frankenstein himself, he found a way to cheat death through the legacy he left behind.
In the beginning…
Dettlaff’s interest in film was ignited when he was a young boy in Cudahy, Wis. According to Frederick C. Wiebel, Jr., who chronicled the strange history of the lost horror classic in his book "Edison’s Frankenstein," Dettlaff’s father ran a drug and candy store and would advertise for the local theaters in his store window. As a result, they were often given free movie tickets.
"One of those theatre owners had given Al some cartoons and films. He got an old hand cranked 35mm projector and used to show them in the basement of the store where he charged local kids a penny to see them," Wiebel explained. Later on, Dettlaff would screen the films for his coworkers during lunch breaks, or at special events where he invented the "Father Time" character to hype his presentations.
It was believed that he had at least 1,000 silent films in his collection, in 8mm, 16mm, and 35mm formats. At the time of his death, he had just started to catalog his collection.
"Back then many film distributors would cut off the titles for the old silent films laying about," Wiebel said, "and send them in for credit, or they would sell them, or throw them away or strip salvage them for the silver content."
According to Wiebel, this was how Dettlaff collected most of the works in his collection.How he acquired Edison’s "Frankenstein," however, is a bit more enigmatic and open to debate.
"It depended on who was asking him," said Nelson Page, chairman of the Fort Lee Film Commission. "His story always changed when it came to how he found that movie."
Wiebel believes that Dettlaff acquired it from another collector who had connections to his family. In his book, Wiebel cites an interview he conducted with Dettlaff, in which the collector recalls how the film came into his possession through his wife’s family. Originally, his wife’s grandmother owned the film, which she screened during her traveling roadshow. The film then was passed on to his father-in-law, and on to Dettlaff’s brother-in-law, who in turn sold it to film collector Herman Schmidt. In the mid-’50’s, Dettlaff acquired the film from Schmidt, along with about 20 other titles for $30. Dettlaff said he did not know that "Frankenstein" had been included in that batch of films, and he had no idea how rare it was when he discovered it. The film collector had been using the silent films to teach his children how to read by using the title cards.
According to Wiebel, Dettlaff had a feeling that there was something unusual about the "Frankenstein" when he ran it through for the first time.
The plot thickens…
In 1980, his suspicions were confirmed when the American Film Institute (AFI) released a list of the most important "lost" films of American cinema, and "Frankenstein" was on that list. Dettlaff was soon courted by several film preservation organizations, including AFI, to obtain a copy of the film, but none of the parties involved could reach a satisfying agreement.
With interest in "Frankenstein" mounting, Wiebel said, Dettlaff released portions of the film to be used in documentaries about film history or the legacy of Mary Shelley’s "Frankenstein." He began to appear on local TV shows, and even made an appearance on CNN, showing clips from the long lost film.
Film historians began to throw their hands up in frustration with Dettlaff’s unwillingness to release the film for a larger audience than the small presentations he held.
In the mid-’90’s, Wiebel said, Dettlaff—who had made several backup copies of "Frankenstein" on 16mm and 35mm—held Halloween screenings of "Frankenstein" at local theaters in Wisconsin.
In 1991, Dettlaff was the subject of an article for Film Comment magazine written by Jim Beckerman. It was Beckerman who connected Meyers and the film commission to Dettlaff.
"We were looking to do some fundraisers," Meyers explained, "and we wanted to use ‘Frankenstein’ for one of our Cliffhanger Film Festivals."
Thus began a year of courting the enigmatic Dettlaff.
"I would talk to him on the phone for hours," film commission member Lou Azzolini said. "And not just about movies. He’d tell me about his health problems, whatever was going on. He just wanted someone to listen to him."
Eventually Dettlaff was satisfied that the film commission’s intentions were genuine, Wiebel said, and he accepted their invitation to come to New Jersey and screen the film in April of 2003. First, there was a special screening at the Galaxy Theatre in Guttenberg, followed by "The Many Faces of Frankenstein" film series at the Lowes Landmark Theatre in Jersey City.
The next stop was Chiller Theater, a horror movie convention in the Meadowlands. Dettlaff signed sold DVD copies of "Frankenstein" and signed autographs for the crowd.
"We had a little scare at Chiller," Meyers recounted, "when he disappeared for awhile. He just wandered off when we weren’t looking. Eventually we found him in the celebrity tent sitting next to Soupy Sales, signing autographs.
"There was a B movie actress there known as Nurse Blood," Meyers continued, "and she was standing there watching Al. She asked us, ‘Who is that?’ so we told her he was the oldest living Revolutionary War veteran. She goes, ‘Oh wow! Really? I have to get his autograph’."
As a result of the time he spent with the film commission, Dettlaff provided them with another rare find from his collection: a silent film version of "Robin Hood" shot in Fort Lee in 1912. Over the past couple of years, the film commission has been working to restore this surviving copy of a film that had been shot in the woods that are now Constitution Park.
Final curtain call…
Film collector. Showman. Huckster. Al Dettlaff had been called all these things throughout his life. He was a man whose love of silent film started as a past time in which, as Wiebel writes in his book, "he projected the films for fun, not for preservation or monetary gain."
Although he would have a preferred an Oscar for his efforts. When the Academy of Motion Pictures Arts and Sciences approached him about receiving a copy of the film — or the original itself — for their archives, as part of the deal Dettlaff requested a special Academy Award for his efforts in restoring the film.
Neither party could reach an agreement.
However, "Frankenstein" eventually provided Dettlaff with the international recognition that he desired. As a result of the publicity following his trip to New Jersey, screenings of the film were requested at film festivals across the globe, including the Pordenone Silent Film Festival in Italy.
It even brought him back to New York City, a town he hadn’t visited since he came home from the Navy in 1945.
"We took him to New York," Meyers said, "after the events were finished. He wanted to see the Statue of Liberty the way he saw it when he came home from the war."
Meyers added that, "he had the best couple of years of his life after the New Jersey screening. He got to travel all over. That night at the Galaxy Theatre was really his moment of glory when he saw how many people came out for him."
Film commission member Kevin Cerragno feels that everyone who knew him was touched by him.
"He was a true original," flim commission member Scott Manginelli said wistfully. "Ultimately, he will be probably prove to be as important to film history, if not more so, than these celebrities working today."
The old man in the tri-corn hat and white cape stood in front of the hotel waiting to greet his coming guests. In one hand, he held a megaphone that also played "On Wisconsin," in honor of his beloved home state. In the other hand was an hourglass.
Al Dettlaff, film collector and self-dubbed "Father Time," waited for members of the Fort Lee Film Commission, who were on their way to meet this quirky old man whom they had heard so much about – an old man who held a living history in his basement. With his long, white beard, and thinning white hair, he probably could have more easily passed for Rip van Winkle.
"That was the first time we saw him," Tom Meyers, executive director of the Fort Lee Film Commission said, "when we went to meet him at the Holiday Inn on Route 4 in Fort Lee."
Dettlaff had been on the East Coast for several events the film commission had planned. These events all centered around screening of a film that turned out to be the Holy Grail of his film collection: the only known existing print of Thomas Edison’s silent film version of "Frankenstein," considered by historians to be the first horror film.
For Dettlaff, it was his claim to fame…and infamy. And long after his death earlier this summer, it is a notoriety that will live on.
On July 26, the 84-year-old Dettlaff was found dead in his Wisconsin home apparently of natural causes. Authorities believe he had been dead a month before he was found. But like Dr. Frankenstein himself, he found a way to cheat death through the legacy he left behind.
In the beginning…
Dettlaff’s interest in film was ignited when he was a young boy in Cudahy, Wis. According to Frederick C. Wiebel, Jr., who chronicled the strange history of the lost horror classic in his book "Edison’s Frankenstein," Dettlaff’s father ran a drug and candy store and would advertise for the local theaters in his store window. As a result, they were often given free movie tickets.
"One of those theatre owners had given Al some cartoons and films. He got an old hand cranked 35mm projector and used to show them in the basement of the store where he charged local kids a penny to see them," Wiebel explained. Later on, Dettlaff would screen the films for his coworkers during lunch breaks, or at special events where he invented the "Father Time" character to hype his presentations.
It was believed that he had at least 1,000 silent films in his collection, in 8mm, 16mm, and 35mm formats. At the time of his death, he had just started to catalog his collection.
"Back then many film distributors would cut off the titles for the old silent films laying about," Wiebel said, "and send them in for credit, or they would sell them, or throw them away or strip salvage them for the silver content."
According to Wiebel, this was how Dettlaff collected most of the works in his collection.How he acquired Edison’s "Frankenstein," however, is a bit more enigmatic and open to debate.
"It depended on who was asking him," said Nelson Page, chairman of the Fort Lee Film Commission. "His story always changed when it came to how he found that movie."
Wiebel believes that Dettlaff acquired it from another collector who had connections to his family. In his book, Wiebel cites an interview he conducted with Dettlaff, in which the collector recalls how the film came into his possession through his wife’s family. Originally, his wife’s grandmother owned the film, which she screened during her traveling roadshow. The film then was passed on to his father-in-law, and on to Dettlaff’s brother-in-law, who in turn sold it to film collector Herman Schmidt. In the mid-’50’s, Dettlaff acquired the film from Schmidt, along with about 20 other titles for $30. Dettlaff said he did not know that "Frankenstein" had been included in that batch of films, and he had no idea how rare it was when he discovered it. The film collector had been using the silent films to teach his children how to read by using the title cards.
According to Wiebel, Dettlaff had a feeling that there was something unusual about the "Frankenstein" when he ran it through for the first time.
The plot thickens…
In 1980, his suspicions were confirmed when the American Film Institute (AFI) released a list of the most important "lost" films of American cinema, and "Frankenstein" was on that list. Dettlaff was soon courted by several film preservation organizations, including AFI, to obtain a copy of the film, but none of the parties involved could reach a satisfying agreement.
With interest in "Frankenstein" mounting, Wiebel said, Dettlaff released portions of the film to be used in documentaries about film history or the legacy of Mary Shelley’s "Frankenstein." He began to appear on local TV shows, and even made an appearance on CNN, showing clips from the long lost film.
Film historians began to throw their hands up in frustration with Dettlaff’s unwillingness to release the film for a larger audience than the small presentations he held.
In the mid-’90’s, Wiebel said, Dettlaff—who had made several backup copies of "Frankenstein" on 16mm and 35mm—held Halloween screenings of "Frankenstein" at local theaters in Wisconsin.
In 1991, Dettlaff was the subject of an article for Film Comment magazine written by Jim Beckerman. It was Beckerman who connected Meyers and the film commission to Dettlaff.
"We were looking to do some fundraisers," Meyers explained, "and we wanted to use ‘Frankenstein’ for one of our Cliffhanger Film Festivals."
Thus began a year of courting the enigmatic Dettlaff.
"I would talk to him on the phone for hours," film commission member Lou Azzolini said. "And not just about movies. He’d tell me about his health problems, whatever was going on. He just wanted someone to listen to him."
Eventually Dettlaff was satisfied that the film commission’s intentions were genuine, Wiebel said, and he accepted their invitation to come to New Jersey and screen the film in April of 2003. First, there was a special screening at the Galaxy Theatre in Guttenberg, followed by "The Many Faces of Frankenstein" film series at the Lowes Landmark Theatre in Jersey City.
The next stop was Chiller Theater, a horror movie convention in the Meadowlands. Dettlaff signed sold DVD copies of "Frankenstein" and signed autographs for the crowd.
"We had a little scare at Chiller," Meyers recounted, "when he disappeared for awhile. He just wandered off when we weren’t looking. Eventually we found him in the celebrity tent sitting next to Soupy Sales, signing autographs.
"There was a B movie actress there known as Nurse Blood," Meyers continued, "and she was standing there watching Al. She asked us, ‘Who is that?’ so we told her he was the oldest living Revolutionary War veteran. She goes, ‘Oh wow! Really? I have to get his autograph’."
As a result of the time he spent with the film commission, Dettlaff provided them with another rare find from his collection: a silent film version of "Robin Hood" shot in Fort Lee in 1912. Over the past couple of years, the film commission has been working to restore this surviving copy of a film that had been shot in the woods that are now Constitution Park.
Final curtain call…
Film collector. Showman. Huckster. Al Dettlaff had been called all these things throughout his life. He was a man whose love of silent film started as a past time in which, as Wiebel writes in his book, "he projected the films for fun, not for preservation or monetary gain."
Although he would have a preferred an Oscar for his efforts. When the Academy of Motion Pictures Arts and Sciences approached him about receiving a copy of the film — or the original itself — for their archives, as part of the deal Dettlaff requested a special Academy Award for his efforts in restoring the film.
Neither party could reach an agreement.
However, "Frankenstein" eventually provided Dettlaff with the international recognition that he desired. As a result of the publicity following his trip to New Jersey, screenings of the film were requested at film festivals across the globe, including the Pordenone Silent Film Festival in Italy.
It even brought him back to New York City, a town he hadn’t visited since he came home from the Navy in 1945.
"We took him to New York," Meyers said, "after the events were finished. He wanted to see the Statue of Liberty the way he saw it when he came home from the war."
Meyers added that, "he had the best couple of years of his life after the New Jersey screening. He got to travel all over. That night at the Galaxy Theatre was really his moment of glory when he saw how many people came out for him."
Film commission member Kevin Cerragno feels that everyone who knew him was touched by him.
"He was a true original," flim commission member Scott Manginelli said wistfully. "Ultimately, he will be probably prove to be as important to film history, if not more so, than these celebrities working today."
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