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Don't call it a failure. It was a survivor
No one will be saving souvenirs from the Sea Vue when and if it's torn
down. It's not the kind of building people discuss with awe and admiration.
When I first heard it had closed, the key word I heard was "failure." It
wasn't a failure. Like the Ocean Shore Railroad that once operated nearby
for thirteen years, the Sea Vue became rather grubby and beat down. Unlike
the rail line, no one will write books about it. No one will remember it
fondly 80 years from now. But the Sea Vue was a success. The magnificent
Fox Theatre on Market Street in SF lasted fewer than 35 years. I have a
souvenir tile. Hundreds of theatres across the country, most with a lot
more pizzaz than the Sea Vue, including several on the northern Peninsula,
came and went in less than a half-century, some in ten or 15 years. In the
full face of television, computer games, and multiple-screen competition,
the Sea Vue survived 51 years, 6 months and 13 days. Unlike the Fox, it had
no magnificent organ. Unlike the Fox, it wasn't known for its décor. Like
the Fox, however, it eventually became a dinosaur, an uneconomical place to
show a movie. By the time it was twinned, over a quarter century ago, the
handwriting was already on the wall. I've been expecting its demise more
than half its existence. For quite a few years, the Sea Vue was one of my
advertising accounts when I was working for the Tribune. I saw managers
come and go. I heard many of the strategies intended to keep the theatre
going during adverse times, which seemed to recur regularly.
I was aware of the Sea Vue several years before I ever knew there was a
Pacifica. The theatre was built in 1951, but it wasn't until 1957 that I
began driving to the San Mateo County coast periodically to satisfy my
taste for waves and beaches. In those years before freeways, I'd drive to
the west end of Alemany extension, (now John Daly Blvd.) and turn south. A
sign with an arrow would direct potential movie-goers to the Sea Vue a
couple of miles further down the road. More than once in those days, I'd
wonder where that elusive theatre was located.
Pacifica was a mystery to me. Even as I drove through it, I didn't have a
clue that this would be the place where I'd spend most of my life, or even
that there was a city in the making along the wave washed coastline.
The Sea Vue has had its share of drama. The new city of the Coastside came
close to being named "Sea Vue." Political meetings seeking incorporation
often took place in the movie house in those early days. Arguments over
that name and especially that spelling may have put off incorporation for a
few years. The theatre was there before Pacific Manor shopping center.
There were some Pacific Manor tract homes before 1951, but Save More Meats
and Super X Market, (now Safeway) Bank of America and most of the other
stores didn't arrive for a few years.
The post office was in Sharp Park. Local residents often shopped in the
West Portal area of San Francisco. Serramonte was a dairy ranch, and
Tanforan a horse track. Henry Doelger, who would later be maligned by
Malvina Reynolds for "ticky tacky" homes in Westlake, was still mainly
known for homes in the Sunset that had sold, in some cases, for $29 a
month. They were known by some as "The White Cliffs of Doelger."
I have watched the movie business from a distance for most of my life. My
great uncle built the California Theatre, the finest movie house in Santa
Rosa many years ago. It was one of three movie palaces in Santa Rosa when I
was growing up. Though Santa Rosa has ten times the population, those
theatres are long gone. The projectionist's union and the profits from
candy, popcorn and cola have had more to do with the success or failure of
theatres than most other factors, even the movies themselves. When better
equipment made it possible for one union projectionist to deal with giant
film reels and several screens, the fate of the single screen theatre was
sealed.
It has taken skilled and intelligent management to allow the Sea Vue to
last as long as it has. One previous owner-manager without those skills
went through chapter seven bankruptcy (the worst kind) many years ago. The
famed silent movie series called the "Perils of Pauline" had nothing on the
bookkeeping, scheduling, and cost cutting gymnastics that have kept the Sea
Vue open all these long years. The survival of the Sea Vue is a tribute to
the skills and perseverance of its long succession of managers in the face
of competitive forces that must have seemed overwhelming. Now the
westernmost movie house in the Americas between the Cliff House and Tierra
Del Fuego has closed its doors. May it enjoy a peaceful future existence,
free of sticky floors, screaming kids, and finicky film projectors.
The Reactor is a column of personal opinion, mostly on
Pacifica topics. Paul Azevedo's e mail address is Paul@thereactor.net.
Check his website at www.thereactor.net.
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