handbill

The handbill above is one I did for a fundraiser in Sept. 1972. (R. Crumb's trucking man style was deliberately imitated in the McGovern caricature trying to appeal to hippies.) The other movie theater operators in town and lots of other know-it-alls told me I was crazy to take sides in politics by sponsoring a McGovern benefit. That was still in our first year of operation. Soon they learned the Biograph was going to be something different from business as usual in Richmond.

BuTTercuP

A notice about an upcoming fundraiser for a worthy cause has come in from a locally-based band called BuTTercuP: In the photo above they are (left to right) Cassandra Cossitt, Octavia Carpin and David Stover. Both Cassandra and David were members of the theater's staff in the early-1980s.

The band's harbinger of spring reads:

We have the coolest gig ever! You are cordially invited to the first annual Tricycle Gardens Fundraiser on Saturday, March 11, 2006, to be held at "The Expansion Joint", 211 West Seventh St. (near Legend Brewery).

Tricycle Gardens is a non profit community garden located in Church Hill. Their goal is to help create a better Richmond through community gardening. They are also striving to create educational programs, such as seed starting workshops and working with youth in the community.

Tickets for the dinner portion of the evening (7 p.m. - 9 p.m.) with Buttercup for desert, are $40 each or $75 a couple. This includes a fabulous buffet dinner, wine and champagne, and a silent auction with great donations from local artists, restaurants, and local businesses. Buttercup will be raising the roof from 9 p.m. on. Once again we are honored to be joined by several extra-special guest artists!

"Music-only guests" may come at 9 p.m. Tickets are $15 and will be available at the door. For more info and to reserve your dinner please contact Lisa @ (804) 683-7968. Hope to see you there!

staff: Rebus

Although Rebus was surprised to be called up from the cartoon reserves to serve in the Cartoon War, he's flattered that anyone remembered him. The panel above shows him reacting to the startling notice for him to return to active duty.

Rebus is best known for his role as the theater's official spokesdog. Drawn by yours truly he made his initial appearance on a midnight show handbill in our first year of operation (1972). His name Rebus came a few weeks later. It started as Uncle Rebus, then the Uncle was quickly dropped, when he reappeared in a single panel that I drew for my own amusement. It was titled: "Have a Good Time," which had become the Biograph's motto.

A month-or-so later, that single panel has grown into a nine-panel comic strip. It was subsequently published by VCU's student newspaper, The Commonwealth Times, which morphed into an all-comics tabloid called "Fan Free Funnies" for three issues in the spring of 1973.

What is a rebus?

It’s a word puzzle. The viewer sees a line drawing of an eye, then a plus sign, then the letter “c”, then another plus sign, then the letter “u.” Decoded that means “I see you.” Such little puzzles, usually somewhat more complicated, were common in publications aimed at children in the 1940s and '50s. The original Rebus comic strips all had little rebus puzzles in them, somewhere.

In the 1970s a circle of area artists was into drawing cartoons, making short animated films and even making large cartoon paintings. Inspired by “underground comix,” there was a scene, of sorts, in the Fan District then which revolved around cartooning. In some ways it was a precursor of the illustrated fiction wave that began to be noticed about ten years later. Anyway, in such a make-believe world, Rebus was a minor celebrity ‘toon, perhaps along the lines of local pitchman who appears on TV frequently selling sofas, promoting community events, etc.

Rebus continued to pop up on Biograph handbills and programs all during my tenure as the Biograph’s manager. He also was happy to help out with other projects, such as my 1980s Rock ‘n’ Roll promotions with Chuck Wrenn; we called our partnership Lit Fuse Productions.

Later, to make my then-girlfriend laugh -- she said Rebus was a chump -- I did a black humor series of small paintings called "Documenting the Death of Rebus." In each piece he was being killed off in a different way. Then she moved out.

Undaunted, Rebus made a rousing comeback in a series of 'toons published in SLANT (1985-94), doing some of his best work. As well, he has appeared on various posters, calendars and T-shirts. etc., I've produced over the years since.

Rebus rules!

stories: postmortem anniversaries

A few Biograph Theatre anniversaries have been celebrated since it closed in December 1987. The ones I know about were parties I organized/hosted. In 1989 I had a part-time gig as a bartender at The Attic in Northside, so it went down there. This one happened by word-of-mouth. We showed some videos and looked at old photos.

In 1992, for the 20th, I booked two acts, lined up a room -- Twisters (it was the Back Door in the 1970s, now it's Nanci Raygun), promoted the event and even made up some T-shirts. We had the Useless Playboys as the headliner; Rebby Sharp did an opening set. I remember the late Carole Kass (perhaps the best friend the Biograph ever had) was there. The reunion aspect of it was nice.

For the 30th, in 2002, working with the Richmond Moving Image Coop, we showed several films and presented three bands at Poe's Pub. Colleen Curran at Richmond.com wrote a piece about the occasion. That party -- featuring Page Wilson with Reckless Abandon; Burnt Taters (now The Taters); Used Carlotta -- packed the house and raised a little money for RMIC. A good time was had by all, as far as I could tell.

What next?

stories

The staff art show that hung during the Biograph's second anniversary party on Feb. 11, 1974 -- which featured the well-attended "The Devil and/in Miss Jones" prank -- included various works by several then-current employees and some former staff members, too. Most of those who worked there in the early days were artists of one stripe or another. This piece, by yours truly, was made to hang in the space of the lobby’s gallery that usually featured the artists' statements.

I also had a couple of pieces in the show. One of them sold and that was fun. Another piece was stolen. That was a bummer and a weird kind of violation.

Although most of the art shows that hung in the gallery displayed the work of local/VCU-connected artists, that was not always the case. In the first three or four years, when the walls of the lobby regularly featured shows that changed every couple of months, or so, occasionally art by then-renown artists, usually printmakers, was on display. Among them were Ernest Trova, Robert Indiana and sculptor George Segal.

From Ernest Trova's Falling Man series

In the summer of 1978, the same time as the Rocky Horror Picture Show began its five-year run at midnight, we had a show up that was memorable for an odd reason. It was a group of silkscreen prints and paintings by Barry Fitzgerald, who drove a cab and sometimes played keyboard in a popular local band, Single Bullet Theory.

Fitzgerald’s work had a pop art, reaction-to-advertising look. His droll sense of humor showed in a series of a half-dozen similar paintings. Each had a large line drawing in black against a background of a flat field of a single color. The renderings were done in the sparse style of a government pamphlet. Each had the same girl, Lois, coughing as she faced the viewer. Each had a caption written across the bottom of the colored panel which explained that Lois was choking on something. I think Barry was asking about $100 apiece for them.

Let’s say the first one was blue. It might have said, “Lois chokes on a gumdrop.” I think one of them did say that. The next one could have been yellow, it would have said something like, “Lois chokes on a pocket watch,” and so forth. The only other caption I remember had Lois choking on an Egg McMuffin; that one I’m sure of.

One day a man claiming to be a lawyer called me to say I had to take the Egg McMuffin piece down, pronto. He told me he was a local guy, who’d been talking that day with an attorney for the McDonalds fast food empire. He asserted that if I didn’t take it down McDonalds was going to lay some legal action on the artist, the Biograph and me.

For my part, I said something like, “What!”

The caller explained that it wasn’t a matter of Fitzgerald saying anything against McDonalds’s signature breakfast sandwich, which was fairly new then. No. The problem was that McDonalds wanted to protect the use of the words “Egg McMuffin.” They didn’t want it to become a generic term for a sandwich made by anyone using the same ingredients, etc.

Then I must have said something like, “What!”

Anyway, the threat finished with how I better do what the caller said, because all the law was on McDonalds’ side.

Well, I called a friend who is a lawyer to ask him what he thought. He said I ought to buy the painting. Then I told Fitzgerald what had happened. He loved it. We decided to leave it up.

So, what happened? Never heard from the wannabe McDonalds lawyer again. For a long time I've wished I had bought the painting.

articles

There was a time when February 11 meant a party was brewing, maybe a few surprises, too, on West Grace Street. Tomorrow is the 34th anniversary of the opening of the Biograph. Accordingly, here's an excerpt of "Thanks Aimee," written for Richmond.com in 2000:

"...Times had changed and the theater could no longer pay its way. But in that little independent cinema's heyday, Feb. 11 meant something to those familiar with the nightlife in the VCU area. The Biograph's second anniversary was the party that established the occasion of the theater's birthday as a date to mark on the calendar. That was the year of The Devil Prank."

softball

Here's the handbill for the 1984 Fan District Softball League's All-Star Game/Picnic. It was the first year we had amplified music.

From this year's event through 1988's, this annual mid-summer party consistently drew between 250 and 300 people to the Columbian Center, in the Westend a long way from the Fan. One year, the temperature was at a blistering 99 degrees all day and the thirsty group went through 21 kegs of beer in the afternoon.

The beer truck driver was amazed. Do the math.

Image by F.T. Rea

softball

It's been a while since any new softball photos were put up, so to respond to the requests for more of such nostalgia, here's another batch from the days of the Fan District Softball League. Above is a random gathering of Back Door Bombers, and others -- such as Darryl Cohen (drinking the beer on the left):

In the above phograph, top row (left-to-right) they are: Karen Smith, Les Smith, Dennis Madigan, Trent Nicholas. Second row: Chuck Wrenn, Gussie Armeniox.

The Back Door's nearly-svelte owner John "Big Daddy" Richardson was perhaps more of a "Medium-Well-Done Daddy" in this era. The picture above, as well as the two above it were all shot at John Marshall HS by Danny Brisbane in 1977.

This 1983 team photo of the Biograph Naturals, a group of semi-wily veterans who finished the season at 18-15 and may have surprised themselves by having a winning record, was taken at Chandler Ballfield by David Stover.

The black and white above was shot at the Fan District League's 1985 All-Star Game at the Columbian Center. On the left in shades without a beard is Artie Probst. His two thirsty buds to the right are the late Fitz Marston and the late Paul Soble. When one recalls the pedal-to-the-metal scene at any of Soble's legendary Christmas parties at the original Floyd Avenue location, Paul and his pal Fitz are missed all the more at this time of year.
And speaking of Soble, here's a shot of Paul enjoying himself on July 4th as only he could, from the same summer as above. (the last two are from SLANT's first year archives)

stories

The Orthotonics (first and briefly known as the Orthotones) were a notable art-rock/jazz-fusion band based in the Fan District in the early-to-mid-1980s. Oddly, their recordings were probably more popular in Eastern Europe than here. Phil Trumbo, mentioned in the post below, was one of the originals and the group’s handbill artist for the first couple of years.
The Orthotonics were key players in Richmond’s then-peak of a certain culture that had the Fan’s music scene closely connected to the coolest of such scenes on the East Coast and beyond. In those days a band’s handbills/graphics were a big part of its image. That was just as true in New York as Richmond. Also in the original group were Pippin Barnett, Danny Finney, Rebby Sharp and Paul Watson. They were funny, they took chances and they could play. The Orthotonics practiced in the empty Biograph, after the place was cleaned up in the wee hours. It was convenient because half of them worked as the theater's janitors at the time. Today Trumbo lives on the Left Coast. Always a snappy dresser, he is shown above with his daughter Leela, 10, in October of 2005.
And, above is a shot of Phil talking with one of the original cashiers, Susan Eskey, at the Biograph's first reunion party on Feb. 11, 1975, the theater's third anniversary.

stories

The Halloween photographs in this post were taken by Tom Campagnoli in 1980. They were sent in by Phil Trumbo who found this site by luck. I hadn't heard from Phil in nearly 20 years.

As it was in the day, the theater’s lobby doubled as a gallery space. Trumbo had the distinction of having his paintings on the walls of the Biograph more often than any other artist. Trumbo was the leader of a pack of VCU fine art students/grads who painted in a cartoon style. His handbills for the band in which he was an original member, the Orthotonics, remain collector’s items today.

Phil and his then-partner Steve Segal directed a short sci-fi film (40 minutes of cartoonish footage known as pixilation), “Futuropolis,” that premiered at the Biograph in 1984. As I recall, it took them five or six years to make it, one frame at a time. Two of the Biograph's cashiers played the same part, because the first one moved away after a couple of years of it.

Later Trumbo was an art director for Pee-wee’s Playhouse. Now he's art-directing video games out on the West Coast.

This site has also brought in emails from others who have moved away from the Fan District and haven't been heard from in a long time, including David Giles, who was an usher/projectionist (1979-82) and a fine cartoonist in his own right.

Hopefully, as the word spreads and others stumble across the Biograph Archives, we'll have more pictures to put up and more stories about where they are now. By the way, for readers who wonder what is happening in the old Biograph building today, it is still standing and has been converted into a cyber cafe called Hyperlink.

staff

Every Halloween there was a costume party, usually a contest at the Biograph. In that time such elaborate merriment was much in fashion in the Fan District. Several of the popular bars held contests, too.

However, the first time the theater's staff was asked to put together costumes for a midnight monster show, maybe three or four months into the first year's (1972) operation, no one really did all that much. We held back. Then cashier Susan Kuney, on the right, showed up last with a great make-up job and wild get-up as a skeleton. It put the rest of us to shame and set a standard.

After that night the die was cast. With one provocation or another the Biograph regularly had parties/promotions that included costumes several times a year. And, the staff generally set a pretty good example.

(Photo Credit: F. T. Rea)

Here's a shot in the lobby (left) depicting members of the Biograph's crackerjack staff at 814 West Grace Street hard at work at one of the usually planned, but sometimes spontaneous, costume promotions.

As the six are in-character, so to speak, let's play along and not identify them at this time. Rather, we'll see how long it takes readers to guess their names and leave comments accordingly. The photograph -- sorry, it's a little beat up -- was probably taken in early 1974. (The photographer is unknown.)


And, here's one more shot of the theater's willing staff (right) and a few somewhat jolly friends in the lobby before the candy counter from Halloween 1979. (Again, the photographer is unknown.) Who knows what nonsense might have been going on down in the two auditoriums?

films: art movies

"El Topo," by director Alexandro Jodorowsky, was an art house moderate box office success in 1972/73. Jodorowsky mixed spaghetti westerns, hippie philosophy, aspects of exotic religion and fantasy into a witch's brew of quirky action and near-comedy, all on a shoestring budget. The plot was nowhere to be found. This handbill was created to promote its first run stint. Only a few years later, touring as a midnight show, the film came to be seen more as camp, or even a scam.

staff: Tom Campagnoli

Tom Campagnoli (1975)
Photo credit: F. T. Rea

Of all that reported to work at the yellow cinderblock cinema, who had the key to the front door of the funhouse the longest? It was Tom Campagnoli, who came aboard as an usher in 1973. With shore leaves in Europe, and other ports of call, Campagnoli stayed on through more sea changes than anyone else and went down with the theater's ship in 1987.

Campagnoli had 13 Biograph years-plus and actually wore more hats than anyone else over the long haul -- he was an usher, a janitor, a projectionist, an occasional substitute cashier or sandwich-board-carrier, and lastly a manager. When Tom wasn't busy with all that he published comic books and fronted a band, too.

The original manager, Terry Rea, was the Biograph's skipper from late-1971 through mid-1983. Tom's partner at the end of the Biograph's run, Mike Jones (see post and link to article below), was there from 1976 through 1987, again with a little time off for European adventures. The only other employee close to those three was the original projectionist the late Howard Powers, who labored and caught cat naps in the booth about 10 years.

stories

(Photo Credit: Tom Campagnoli)

Director John Waters’ Polyester opened for its first run in Richmond at the Biograph in November of 1981. Waters also had a new book, Shock Value, out at the time. So the offbeat Baltimore filmmaker/author made his way to the Fan District to sit for interviews by the media and to sign books for the public at a little wine and cheese party in the theater’s lobby before the first screening of Polyester, which featured a gimmick -- cards with 10 different smells on them to be scratched-and-sniffed at certain times during the playing of the movie -- called “Odorama.”

films: repertory festivals

In its day RKO was known for its ability to produce well-crafted, sometimes artsy or offbeat features using a smaller budget than the other so-called major studios. Nonetheless, it was almost always in trouble, financially. RKO stopped making movies in 1953 and eventually sold its lot and production facilities to television's Desilu Productions.

In July and August of 1982 program No. 60 played out in Theatre No. 1, the larger of the two auditoriums. It was an unusual program in that all 24 of the features were from one company, RKO, which still operated as a distributor.

The 12 double features in this festival were: Top Hat (1935) and Damsel in Distress (1936); The Hunchback of Notre Dame (1939) and The Informer (1935); King Kong (1933) and Mighty Joe Young (1949); Suspicion (1941) and The Live By Night (1948); Sylvia Scarlett (1936) and Mister Blandings Builds His Dream House (1948); Murder My Sweet (1945) and Macao (1952); The Mexican Spitfire (1939) and Room Service (1938); Journey Into Fear (1942) and This Land Is Mine (1943); The Thing (1951) and Cat People (1942); The Boy With Green Hair (1948) and Woman on the Beach (1947); Citizen Kane (1941) and Fort Apache (1948); The Curse of the Cat People (1944) and The Body Snatcher (1945).

stories: A Flashback

Working in show bidness can be tough duty. Ask anybody who knows. It’s not all laughs.

For instance, one evening a couple of traveling porn queens came by the theater. Naturally, they asked for the manager. So I was fetched from my santuary office to talk with Annie Sprinkle and another woman (the one in the photo) who claimed she was from Richmond (Hermitage High). Sometimes, the X-rated touring performers from the live shows at the Lee Art Theater in the next block of Grace stopped by, so I figured that was the deal. Like, maybe they were film buffs who wanted free passes?

They had a limo parked in front of the theater. Their driver was a dwarf. No joke. After what sounded to me like a lot of cocaine-driven nonsense about a glossy magazine spread, and how they'd been to other local landmarks, Annie asked me to pose in front of the theater with the other lady.

Those were simpler times. Why not?

As Annie told me to stand a little closer, what’s-her-name? -- I think it might have been Honey -- gave me a hug and flashed what I quickly suspected to be her left breast. My reaction was honest, spontaneous. The duo had what they wanted, so they giggled and piled back into the limo. My co-workers couldn't stop laughing, as they had seen the whole thing through the cinemascopic front windows.

Later the silly picture showed up in Partner, a forgettable low-rent rag . The feature displayed other shots of Honey in similar flash modes in front of various familiar local backdrops.

To change the subject, the very next year Grace Street was changed from a west-only one-way street to two-way. The change was probably toughest on the winos, but it wasn't easy on anybody. That neighborhood hasn't been the same since. And, good night Mrs. Calabash, wherever you are..."

stories

As a VCU fine arts student in the early-80s Tana Dubbe became a familiar face around the Biograph. She was partial to the European first run pictures and Marx Bros. films. Tana played on a co-ed Biograph softball team (1981) and was an excellent Frisbee-golfer, a sport played regularly by several on the theater's staff.

After moving to Manhattan in the mid-'80s Dubbe eventually became a professional photographer, studying under the legendary Eddie Adams. Since then she has moved to the West Coast and earned some interesting movie credits in recent years.

(Photo Credit: F. T. Rea)

films

For the staff a workhorse of a time-killer between shows, during lulls, was making top ten lists and comparing them. We listed our favorite films of all-time, or our top ten westerns, or film noirs, etc. Here's a current list of my favorite ten titles that were Richmond premeires (still in their first-run bookings) when they were screened at the theater during my tenure:

1. Chinatown (1974)
2. The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie (1972)
3. The Conformist (1971)
4. The Conversation (1974)
5. Seven Beauties (1976)
6. Amarcord (1974)
7. Wiseblood (1979)
8. Bread and Chocolate (1978)
9. Napoleon (1927) This was the restored version which came out in 1981
10. My American Uncle (1981)

And, with no apologies, here's my list of the ten weirdest movies that I presented, with the actual date they opened at the Biograph in parenthesis:

1. Honeymoon Killers (10/22/82)
2. Eraserhead (2/16/79)
3. Fingers (2/8/80)
4. Eyes of Hell (3/16/73)
5. Heart of Glass (4/26/82)
6. El Topo (5/25/73)
7. Freaks (3/31/72)
8. Thundercrack! (11/26/76)
9. Greaser's Palace (5/5/73)
10. Pink Flamingos (7/18/73)

staff: Gussie Armenoix

In the hallway with the huge collage made up of movie posters, etc., which ran from the lobby to Theatre No. 1 (the larger of the two auditoriums), longtime cashier Gussie Armenoix struck a fetching patriotic pose during one of the many costume party situations that played out inside the Biograph (circa 1976, photographer unknown).

The second picture of doll-faced Gussie standing behind the candy counter is from 1977, it was shot by Ernie Brooks. She worked at the theater, with time off to travel sometimes, from 1975 through about 1980.

It would be a genuine treat to hear from Gussie, to know she's OK. If you know how to reach her, please let her know.