That brave Jeanette
Last night, on the 103rd anniversary of the earthquake of 1906, the Castro Theatre showed “San Francisco,” the 1936 film starring Clark Gable and Jeanette MacDonald. I had never seen it, and while my current Personal Economic Austerity Plan (PEAP) does not permit me to see movies, I made an exception.
I am fortunate to live near a movie theater that can turn ordinary movie-watching into a memorable event. There was the night the Mosaic Cadillac was parked in front for the premiere of the Burning Man documentary, “Voyage to Utopia.” I was thrilled to watch “What’s Up, Doc?” on the big screen once again with a San Francisco audience and Peter Bogdanovich answering questions afterward. Seeing ”Milk” there was a stirring experience for the record-breaking crowds reliving for two hours the history that had occurred in that very city block 30 years before.
While this was not one of the sing-along presentations that are becoming more frequent there, a Castro audience is one primed for participation. Applause after the songs, hissing at Trixie, laughter at the bond that Clark Gable’s and Spencer Tracy’s characters shared that might now be construed as something more — all were there. There was one small disappointment: That brave Jeanette did not stand there in the ruins and sing, like Judy always told me. Oh, she sang her heart out moments before the earthquake hit, and she pulled at heartstrings with her rendition of “Nearer My God to Thee” in the park afterward. Just not in the ruins.
Prior to the screening we were entertained by Blackie Norton’s Paradise Club band, a New Orleans-type jazz combo with banjos. As always, the curtain opened with “San Francisco” played on the Wurlitzer organ. I hope the musicians don’t mind if I share some of their performances here.
