Growing up in Southern California was a cinephile's dream! My hometown of Bellflower, California, was perfectly situated between Long Beach, Hollywood, and Westwood—each brimming with movie theaters that beckoned me. Starting in 1955, at the age of 10, my parents allowed me to take the bus every Saturday morning to my grandmother’s house in Long Beach. There, I earned a dollar an hour doing yard work, arriving early so my afternoons were free to catch as many movies as possible before the 6:00 pm bus took me home. As I entered my teenage years, my parents extended my movie-going radius to include Hollywood and Westwood.
Hollywood, the movie capital of the world, introduced me to the thrilling tradition of the "Major Studio Sneak Preview." There are two types of sneak previews: nationwide promotional screenings designed to generate buzz for a new film, and genuine test screenings in and around Hollywood. The latter are attended by studio executives to gauge audience reactions and refine marketing strategies. These genuine sneak previews are often included for free with the admission to the regular feature, and audiences are sometimes asked to fill out survey cards to rate the movie.
The excitement of attending these sneak previews lay in the mystery of what new movie would be screened. Typically scheduled on a Friday or Saturday night, a small notice in the newspaper would announce: "Major Studio Sneak Preview Tonight at 8:00." The secrecy was crucial, as studios sought genuine reactions from an audience not predisposed to favor the stars or genre of the film. To ensure I got in, I would arrive around 6:00 pm and sit through the regular feature, even if I had already seen it. The importance of the screening was evident when several rows of seats were roped off for studio brass.
One of the most thrilling sneak previews I attended was for What Ever Happened to Baby Jane? at the State Theater in Long Beach. The audience grew restless as the black-and-white film began with a long sequence before the opening credits. Booing turned into cheers and wild applause when Bette Davis and Joan Crawford's names appeared. The studio was concerned about retaining a scene where Bette serves a dead rat to Joan—a concern that seems almost quaint today.
Another memorable experience was the sneak preview of Play Misty for Me. Clint Eastwood had not yet achieved his iconic status, and the audience was initially unsure where the story was heading. Once it became clear that the film was a thriller and Jessica Walter's character was a psycho, the audience was fully engaged. This film established Eastwood not only as a capable actor but also as a promising director.
The sneak preview for Days of Wine and Roses was equally disconcerting. Jack Lemmon, known for his comedic roles, delivered an incredible Oscar-nominated performance in this drama. The audience, initially expecting laughs, was moved to enthusiastic applause by the end.
The most fun I had at a sneak preview was for Blazing Saddles at the U.A. Theater in Westwood. Early in Mel Brooks' career, the film had the audience rolling in the aisles, especially during the infamous campfire scene. After the movie, I noticed an exhilarated Mel Brooks sitting in the roped-off section, along with Harvey Korman and other actors from the film.
One Friday during my junior year in high school, I was excited about a sneak preview announced in the L.A. Times. The ad hinted it was Jerry Lewis's newest movie. However, that Friday was November 22, 1963—the day President Kennedy was assassinated. The preview was canceled, as were most entertainment venues.
By the 1970s, the quality of life in Southern California and the movie-going experience seemed to deteriorate. In 1977, I left a budding real estate career and moved my family to Southern Oregon in search of a more purposeful life. Three years later, my passion for classic movies led to a new career, recreating the movie-going experiences of the 1930s, 40s, and 50s for PBS in an original TV series called Matinee at the Bijou.
The last sneak preview I attended was during a trip to L.A. for the Bijou series. As a political junkie, it was especially gratifying to see The Formula (1980), a "big oil" conspiracy thriller starring Marlon Brando and George C. Scott. During the intermission, I learned that several major oil executives were in attendance, checking out the proceedings. The final shot of the film, lingering on a congested L.A. freeway interchange, resonated with me as a personal affirmation of my new life in Oregon.
Sneak previews were a magical part of my youth, offering a unique glimpse into the world of cinema. They provided not just entertainment but also a sense of community and excitement that is hard to replicate today. As the film industry continues to evolve, the memories of those sneak previews remain a cherished part of my cinematic journey.
For more information on classic movies and sneak previews, visit MovieFanfare and Matinee at the Bijou.
This article is a nostalgic journey through the golden age of Hollywood sneak previews, capturing the excitement and unpredictability of discovering new films before they hit the mainstream.
The Cartel - America’s Education System Examined
The Cartel - Bob Bowdon discuses his new documentary The Cartel a powerful account of America’s education system:Kansas City Bomber: From the Files of Dr. Strangefilm Case #006
Summary: Dive into the roller derby world of the 1970s with MGM's "Kansas City Bomber," starring Raquel Welch. This article explores the film's plot, its place in sports entertainment history, and the unique charm of its era. Discover the highs and lows of roller derby, the film's underdeveloped subplots, and Welch's noteworthy performance. Plus, learn about the fascinating history of roller derby and its cinematic portrayals.Cast Against Type: Actors in Unexpected Roles Breaking the Mold
Seeing a beloved actor step into an unexpected role is a delightful surprise for audiences and a refreshing challenge for the performer. Whether it's a typically charming star taking on a dark, twisted character or a glamorous actor transforming into a less-than-glamorous figure, these role reversals are memorable. Here are some of the most striking examples of actors breaking their typecast molds.