Had fun this
morning talking with Craig Cohen of KUHF Radio’s Houston Matters about the colorful past — and current renaissance —
of drive-ins. You can hear that segment of the program here.
No joke: The first
movie I ever saw at a drive-in really was The 30 Foot Bride Candy Rock, in Mobile, Alabama. And yes, my wife and I really
did see Gone with the Wind at a New
Orleans drive-in during one of its many theatrical reissues back in the day.
On a related
note: Here is the story I wrote for The Houston Post back on Feb. 29, 1992 — Leap Year Day — to mark the closing of Houston’s last drive-in.
FOR ALL OUTWARD appearances, it will be business as usual
tonight at the I-45 Drive-In. You can stock up on popcorn, pizza and Pic insect
repellent in the concession shack. And you can take your pick of the boffo box-office
hit Wayne's World, or the multiple-Oscar-nominated
Bugsy, or four other major studio
releases.
But once the final frames flicker
across the outdoor screens sometime past midnight, the projector will shut down
for the last time. Because tonight, the main attraction is The Last Outdoor
Picture Show.
The I-45 Drive-in — the largest
outdoor cinema in Texas, if not the entire United States, and the last of its
kind in Houston — will close down for good after tonight's screenings. The
admission, as always, is $6 per adult, children 11 and under free.
The 46-acre theater site, at I-45 North
and West Road, has been obtained by Weber & Co., a Dallas-based development
group that wants a K-Mart and a Builder's Square, not six battleship-size movie
screens, on the property.
“We had originally hoped to stay open
until Sunday,” says manager Jan Bettis, “and had a March 1 closing date in our
ads. But then they sent us a letter saying that we needed to vacate by March 1.
So we’ll be closing Saturday the 29th — Leap Year Day.”
The I-45 Drive-in will close just
seven years after opening its gates — and nearly six decades after entrepreneur
Richard Hollingshead opened the first U.S. drive-in in Camden, N.J. Camden's
theater closed four years after its 1933 debut, a victim of public
indifference. The I-45 closes tonight after fighting the good fight against
home video, steadily increasing operating and film rental costs, and Daylight
Savings Time — but finally losing to the rules of the real estate game.
Ironically, says Bettis, the I-45 was
enjoying a slow but steady upsurge in business at the time she received the bad
news of its impending close.
Bettis’ father, Cotton Griffith, has
operated the I-45 through his Griffith Theaters Co. since 1987, when he leased
the drive-in from its original owner, the Dallas-based McLendon Co.
“When we took over,” says Bettis, ''we
heard that there had been trouble in the past, as far as rough crowds go. And
they had kept kind of B-class movies showing. So when we came in, we added
security, and we started doing our best to keep a first-run feature all the
time, and just really built up a family atmosphere to where it is now.
“It’s kind of sad to see it go, because a lot
of the baby boomers are coming out with their kids. Like, your parents used to
bring you to the drive-in in your pajamas, and they watched the movies, and you
went to sleep. Well, that’s what’s happening all over again.”
Bettis smiles when reminded that drive-ins
have traditionally been viewed as “passion pits” rather than family affairs.
“I’m sure that was true for some
people,” she says. “You always have people that come and tell you, ‘My first
child was conceived at the drive-in.’ But I think that’s not all it’s cracked
up to be.”
Drive-ins enjoyed their heyday during
the 1950s, and continued to attract large audiences well into the early '70s.
At one point, Houston moviegoers could choose among such outdoor picture shows
as the Market Street Drive-In, the Tidwell, the McLendon 3 and the Thunderbird,
where double (and sometimes triple) bills were always available at cut-rate
prices. And because drive-ins always needed movies for the bottom half (or two-thirds)
of their bills, some movies (especially cult favorites like Thunder Road, Vanishing Point and Walking
Tall ) remained in continual circulation long after their initial release.
By the '80s, however, drive-ins were
in a state of free-fall decline. Movies began to appear on home video and pay-cable,
sometimes even before they made the bottom half of drive-in bills.
“Daylight Savings Time did a lot to
hurt drive-ins,” says Bettis. “Because a lot of times, people just don't want
to stay up that late. In the summer, we don’t start showing until almost 9 p.m.
And by the time that’s over, most people want to be home in their beds.”
“At one time,” says Cotton Griffith, “there
were over 20 drive-ins in Houston alone. At the I-45, we’re the Last of the
Mohicans, in a sense.”
The target audience for the I-45?
“Anybody and everybody,” Bettis says. “We
have grandmas and grandpas that come out here and bring their grandkids, and sit
in lawn chairs. And then we have the younger couples that come out with their
kids.
“And then we have teen-agers — a lot
of teen-agers. Since most of the drive-ins in Houston closed in the early '80s,
they’ve never been to a drive-in before. We’ve had several that just drive
through the box-office, and just park on the lot. And you go out, and say, ‘Well,
did you plan on paying, or what?’ And they’ll go, ‘Oh, doesn’t somebody come
out to your car to get your money? How do you do this?’”
Joe Bob Briggs, the nationally
syndicated drive-in movie critic, has waxed wroth and waxed nostalgic about the
closing of Houston’s final outdoor cinema.
“I’ll never forget my happiest moment
at the I-45 Drive-In,” says Briggs, “at the world premiere of Yor: The Hunter from the Future, in
1984. The whole thing was staged by Columbia Pictures so that I would see the
movie, but none of the indoor movie critics would. And their efforts paid off.
Because of my review, Yor: The Hunter from the Future made $15, instead of the mere $5 it would have made.
“Also, I can't think of the I-45 without
remembering that it was the last drive-in built by the late Gordon McLendon,
the godfather of the drive-in, the man who built more drive-ins than any man in
America. If Gordon could see what’s happening to the I-45…
“Actually, now that I think about it,
Gordon would be happy to see what’s happening to the I-45, because Gordon
always regarded his drive-ins as investments in raw land. And when it’s time to
sell, it’s time to sell.”
On a more serious note, John Bloom,
Joe Bob Briggs' more sober-sided alter ego, suggests that economics, not home
video or Daylight Savings Time, is the chief culprit in the decline of drive-ins
nationwide.
“When most drive-in were built in the
1950s,” Bloom says, “they were on the edge of town so they could be away from
the lights. As the towns grew, especially during the 1970s, the town would grow
out and surround the drive-in. Depending on what was built around it, the land
would become more valuable and the offers for the property would become so big
that eventually the owners would sell out.”
And even if the drive-in site itself
isn’t sold, Bettis says, the development of surrounding land can hurt business.
“Like, with the I-45,” Bettis says, “you
have all the surrounding light that we have out here now. When they put in
these freeway lights, that really killed us. And then they built the Wal-Mart,
and took down our fence.”
Griffith would like to see some bold
entrepreneur take a stab at filling the void that will be left with the I-45’s
demise. But he doesn’t hold out much hope for that happening.
“It’s very doubtful,” Griffith says, “because
of the land costs and the installation costs. And the film rentals are
extremely high. These days, the only way a (drive-in) makes money is with the
concession stand. That’s why popcorn prices are so ridiculous.”
So, in all probability, tonight will
mark “The End” for outdoor moviegoing in Houston. There are no sequels in
store. That’s all, folks.
“That's the drive-in way,” says Joe
Bob Briggs. “It's also the Texas way. They can rip down those six drive-in screens,
but they can’t take away our memories. We’ll always have Yor.”
