The history of the Egyptian Theatre
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Hello friends & happy November! Today's story is about the history of one of Boise's most famous (and supposedly haunted) buildings, The Egyptian Theatre. Enjoy! The history of the Egyptian TheatreBy Julie Sarasqueta In November 1922, telegraph lines around the world furiously buzzed with the news of one of the greatest archeological rediscoveries of the 20th century. After more than a decade of searching, a British-American team had located the tomb of the Pharaoh Tutenkhamun, which had been lost over centuries of development. The treasures inside — golden thrones, gem-encrusted robes, rolls of ancient papyri, statues featuring the now-iconic image of King Tut — brought a glittering respite of wonder to a world reassembling itself after a world war and a global pandemic. That wonder reached all the way to Boise, Idaho. On April 19, 1927, the city’s newest movie theater, the Egyptian, flung its doors open to a huge amount of fanfare. And like its inspiration, it was almost lost forever, buried under the detritus of a city’s misguided attempt to reinvent itself. But all that came years later. First, there was a party. ‘One of the Most Beautiful Cinema Houses in America’Downtown Boise had earned a reputation as a hard-partying area of Boise full of bars and houses of ill repute. By the 1920s, local entrepreneurs had had enough. It was time to reclaim Downtown, one new building at a time. Some of the city’s most historic (and still-standing) landmarks went up during this era, including the Boise Depot, the Alexander Building, and the Broadbent Building. The Egyptian Theatre wound up with some prime real estate, tucked into the corner of Main Street and what would become Capitol, a grand, European-inspired boulevard designed to create a through line between the Statehouse and the Depot. In the 1920s, a new movie theater was a solid economic bet. In the era before television, and with radio still a fairly new medium, movies were king. By the time the Egyptian opened, Boise supported the Pinney, the Strand, the Grand, the Rialto, and the Majestic. To stand out, the new Egyptian would have to be trendy and over the top. Luckily, its developer had money to spare. Leo Falk’s family had been entrepreneurs in Boise since the 1860s, so by the time he bought Falk Mercantile Company in 1915 his last name was synonymous with Boise business. He approached Boise’s premiere architectural firm, Tourtellotte and Hummel, to design his new movie palace. Architect Fritz Hummel’s plans included concrete stamped to look like ancient pyramid stones, seating for more than 1,000 people, an opulent lobby, and space for a grand organ near the curtained stage. The opening hype was intense. The Idaho Statesman, Boise’s biggest newspaper, went all out in its promotion. Boise’s newest playhouse, the Statesman reported, was “known to theatrical men as one of the most beautiful cinema houses in America.” “For three weeks the big corps of painters, decorators and furnishers have been straining every nerve to bring the interior and exterior to the final pitch of perfection for opening night,” it breathlessly reported. “... But the whole effect leads straight toward the climax, which is the bewildering magnificence of the proscenium. High above the stage, in the exact center of the arch, is a great gold scarab, wings, with conventional designs radiating from it.” A two-page spread in the paper featured the names and caricatures of nearly everyone involved in the project’s construction. Even the plasterer got a nod for his application of newfangled “Jazz plaster.” No expense was spared: The 1927 2m/8r Robert Morton, opus 2298 organ — an essential during the silent movie era — cost $25,000, or about $430,000 today. On April 19, the new Egyptian Theatre opened with “Don Juan,” featuring John Barrymore, one of the biggest stars in the world. Usherettes in “costumes of extreme brevity” paced the aisles. An organist, Gretta Brattain, was brought in from Salt Lake City to play the new organ. “The organ cannot be excelled and I am delighted with it,” she raved to the Idaho Statesman. “The acoustics of the theatre assure perfect rendition.” A long decline and a near-missThe Egyptian was popular and important to a newly-revived Downtown. But it was also a business. In the 1930s, its operations were taken over by the Fox Theater chain and renamed The Fox; by the 1940s, the Fox chain had changed hands and the theater was renamed the Ada. (Fun fact: Actor Jimmy Stewart, who was stationed at Gowen Field during World War II, would sometimes visit the theater to play its organ.) Movies — although still much more of a draw than they are today — had to compete for people’s attention over radio and TV. By the mid-century, many cities were pulling down their once-famous movie palaces. There were still moments of old-fashioned glamor to be had. In 1972, “Jeremiah Johnson” — based on the novel by Idaho native Vardis Fisher — made its world premiere at the Ada, a.k.a. the Egyptian. Its star, Robert Redford, and its director, Sydney Pollack, attended and were feted at a reception hosted by Boise’s elite. But not even the appearance of an honest-to-God movie star could ease the threats against the Ada/Egyptian. In 1965, the Boise City Council created the Boise Redevelopment Agency, which has gone down as one of the most ill-conceived ideas in the city’s history. Over the course of 12 years, the agency pulled down historic building after historic building in the Downtown core to make way for a “megastructure” shopping mall encompassing seven blocks and requiring a realignment of Downtown. Just for perspective of what we almost lost, the plan would have eliminated the 1925 Alexander Building, the 1902 Union Block (now facing an existential threat and closed to the public), and the 1910 Idaho Building, among many others. The fight over Downtown’s redevelopment was bitter and long, with complaints about the mall’s possible chilling effect on culture, its lack of entertainment options other than shopping, and its wholesale razing of city history. The battle reached a fever pitch during the 1970s, and it was during this era that preservation advocates made courageous choices that reverberate throughout Downtown today. Charles Hummel, the son of the Egyptian’s original architect, banded with other preservationists to form the Egyptian Foundation. At first, the demise of the Egyptian seemed inevitable and they set their focus on saving and preserving the organ, raising funds by hosting a benefit screening of the silent masterpiece “Wings.” To complement the movie’s WWI fighter pilot storyline, organizers received permission to hang a vintage Sopwith Camel plane outside the theater. But the threats kept coming. The Egyptian Foundation worked with local entrepreneur Ed Hardy, who said he would buy the movie palace and fund its restoration. The deal finally came through in June 1977, when the Boise Redevelopment Agency sold the landmark to Hardy for $115,000. The estimated restoration work would bring the bill closer to half a million dollars, but preservation grants offset Hardy’s costs. “Hardy said he does not expect to make a profit on his half-million dollar outlay,” the Statesman reported. “He noted that there are much safer investments.” An Egyptian revivalRestoration complete, the Egyptian reopened for movies in 1979 with “Battlestar Galactica.” Twenty years later, the elderly building was in need of repairs. Out of the more than 100 Egyptian-themed theaters that popped up in America the 1920s, the Egyptian was one of the few that would make it into the 21st century. But that would require a rethinking of how it could be used. In 1999, Earl Hardy died and passed the building down to his daughter, Anita Kay Hardy, who managed it through the Earl M. Hardy Foundation. But the new Edwards cineplex on the other side of town made the last single-screen cinema in town a relic. Cultural leaders mused about the possibility of the space being used for lectures or intimate concerts. That year, the Hardy Family Foundation embarked on a major restoration project. Artists carefully repainted the worn-away faces of the sphinxes flanking the building and installed an updated sound system. “The Egyptian Theater stands out in downtown Boise like an orchid in a patch of bluegrass,” reporter Marianne Flagg wrote in the Idaho Statesman in 1999. “A technicolor reminder of the city’s brush with the exotic.” In 2001, guitarist Leo Kottke performed what would become the first of many live concerts at the Egyptian. Throughout the 2000s, the Egyptian made a steady transition from first-run movies to performance. It became the go-to location for The Cabin’s Readings and Conversations series and attracted world-class musicians searching for an intimate concert experience. Today, the Egyptian still hosts film festivals, classic movies, and musicians and speakers from around the globe. Inevitably, artists performing at the Egyptian make the same comment when they address the crowd assembled underneath its blue ceiling and scrollwork: “What a beautiful theater.” A word about the ghostWe are right on the heels of spooky season, so let’s get into Joe the Projectionist. According to city lore, Joe was the longtime projectionist at the Egyptian, lasting through its iterations as the Fox and the Ada. In the ’50s, as the story goes, he was climbing the stairs to the projection room when he had a heart attack and died. His voice and presence still sends chills down visitors’ spines. I love a good ghost story. I love a ghost story even more when there is some historical evidence that it might be true. But after combing through Statesman stories of the era, I can’t find a single column inch devoted to Joe — and this was a paper that reported on everything back in the day, including who was hosting a dinner party that night and whose cousin was visiting from Salt Lake. I’ve also read about a female ghost in 1920s clothes who roams the theater, but she seems to be less popular. All that said: Who knows? The Egyptian itself is something of a ghost, an anachronism from another time — one when actors could be movie stars and not multi-hyphenates, when going to the movies was a treasured part of the week, when entrepreneurs created palaces rather than utilitarian strip malls. Thanks for reading! With love from Boise, Marissa This story was written by Julie Sarasqueta, a writer and tarot reader who lives in Boise.
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From Boise
Every Tuesday, read a story about a person, place, piece of Boise history, or local happening. Every Thursday, get a huge list of things to do over the weekend. No news, no politics - just the fun stuff.