The Two Dollar Movie Theatre

Fresh Popcorn, Warn Down Seats, and a Second Chance for a First Run Movie

One of the great treats of kid-dom in the 1980s was the second-run theatre (also known as the two-dollar theatre). For a kid, with little money, a bike for transportation, and a few friends: you could easily get into these theatres and spend the afternoon watching a few movies. These were older places that have been left behind for expansion to today’s multiplex. Smaller size auditoriums, with a box office in front, sticky floors from various soda products dropped on them, and the smell of popcorn oil everywhere. They were known as “second run” as newer movies went to the more modern theatres first, then would wind up at the “second run” theatre for a few weeks on their way out to the vault (or wherever they kept the old films once they were no longer in the public’s eye).

When I was a kid, and my Mom and I went to the movies, this was the place we went. Between work, school, chores, and the usual grind of overtime: We didn't get a chance to hang out that much. We lived in the same house, but with two different schedules, and it was hard to always connect. So, getting together at the same place at the same time was important. Also, it is easy to spend four bucks, two tickets, on a second-run movie instead of a first-run movie at the multiplex. The hard part, for a kid, was waiting for a new movie to get to the second-run theatre! That timeline was about four to six weeks. Every time you went to school, all of your school friends have already seen the movie. Then, when the conversation came to you, asking how you liked it, you smiled, arched your shoulders, and lied your ass off.

On movie day, Mom would get a bag of microwave popcorn, set the timer for two minutes, and take it with us.

I stated, “But they have popcorn there! Why are we bringing our own?”

Her reply, “It’s too damn expensive. That’s where they get you.”

There was a drugstore nearby where we picked up candy and soda, set in the back of Mom’s “extra big” purse. Same purpose. It was cheaper at the drugstore than buying it at the movie theatre. After a small walk, we got the tickets and walked in. As all of my friends were at the concession stand getting large bowls of popcorn and soda, I walked by. The person tearing the ticket stubs smelled the popcorn in Mom’s purse, but let us in any way.

By the time we stepped into the theatre, the familiar sound of sticky floors followed you everywhere. All of the seats had patches, most of the time the patches were of a different color than the seat itself, so simply taped over with duct tape.

As the lights went down, the light shone from the back of the room, putting images on the screen. Nothing else mattered. Until I reached into Mom’s purse for some popcorn, then the light of the usher’s flashlight hit my hand, then a voice called out, “You can't do that! You can't bring your food …”

Mom stood up, looked directly at the usher, and said, “That’s enough. Jimmy. I know your Mother. She will not be happy if you kick us out of the theatre because we brought our popcorn and soda! Do you hear me?”

Yes, Mom. Everyone in the theatre heard you and turned around to look at us. Even though there was a movie on the screen, the commotion in the back from with myself, the usher, and my Mom were worth the price of admission.

A standoff started taking shape. Was Jimmy going to kick out my Mom and me because we brought our popcorn? Was my Mom going to call Jimmy’s Mom (no cell phones at this time. Well, let me take that back, cell phones were as big as bookbags, so not everyone had one.) and give her hell for Jimmy being a dumbass?

Jimmy turned off the flashlight, beaten by my mother, and said, “Have a good time at the movie.” Then, he walked away. I sat back down, everyone’s eyes went back to the movie, and I grabbed some popcorn.

These are the times I would remember at the second-run theatre. Not that movies, or the sticky floors, or the overpriced popcorn. But, for a few moments, just being a family, hanging out and enjoying the moving images on that old second-run theatre screen.

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