Though I never formally met Howard Taormino, I knew who he was.
Everyone who had the pleasure of attending one of the many
wonderful films shown at the Granada Theater
”
met
”
Mr. Taomino in one form or another.
Though I never formally met Howard Taormino, I knew who he was. Everyone who had the pleasure of attending one of the many wonderful films shown at the Granada Theater “met” Mr. Taomino in one form or another. He might be the fellow taking money for the show or popping the popcorn, asking the audience to clean up after themselves, or even running the projector. When I recently went to see the movie “Chicago,” Howard was doing all of the above.
Along with the great movies the Granada showed, there was a wonderful atmosphere, something that’s lost in today’s world of cookie-cutter cinemas. Now, that’s not to say I don’t enjoy clean, well-managed theater chains, I do. I go to the movies a lot and know it can’t be easy in this day of lost manners and constantly ringing cell phones to manage a place frequented the general public.
But the Granada has that something special. Even the atmosphere speaks of a bygone era. When you sit and watch a movie at the Granada, it’s not interrupted by loud volume or vibrations of other movies. There are no banging sounds of alien fighting coming through the walls during the quiet moment of the romantic film you’re enjoying. Nothing of the outside world interrupts the moments on the screen.
The Granada Theater has a very warm atmosphere. Perhaps some of this is due to the fact that it’s an older building in an old downtown. Years ago, buildings weren’t just created for function, but for atmosphere, and a theater was a place people would anticipate a good time. Years ago, going out to the movies was considered a special treat, the highlight of the evening, not something to be sandwiched between an already all-too-busy day.
The welcoming atmosphere of the Granada was not only the building itself, but the owner. Howard (or should I call him Mr. Taomino, since I didn’t know him personally) made you feel as if you were going to spend the evening with a friend. He even had pictures of his children (which had a striking resemblance to beagles) on the ticket window. You could read about their latest escapades or enjoy seeing them in costume, on a simple trip to the theater.
And when was the last time you went to a chain-run cinema and had someone ask you to pick up after yourself? It truly made you feel as if you’d just been to a family reunion and were asked to clean up after yourself. There are some (spoiled) folks who might think carrying an empty soda cup, candy box or popcorn bag to the garbage can was a great inconvenience. To me it was simple courtesy, one I do regardless of where I am.
Best of all were the movies. Not all of them hit my fancy, but I will always remember the Granada as the place I saw “Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets,” “Chocolat” (Yum!) and “Chicago.” It was only a couple of weeks ago I found myself once again curled up in the seats at the Granada with family and friends, eagerly anticipating the toe-tapping musical “Chicago.” That was after Howard had taken our tickets, served us our drinks and candy, introduced the show, run the projector and graciously asked us to clean up after ourselves.
If I had only known it was the last time I’d be in the Granada Theater when it was under his ownership, I’d have done what I intended to do years ago – taken a few moments to thank him for giving us a special place to enjoy movies. But I didn’t. When I left that evening I was joking with friends and neighbors who had also attended the movie. We took for granted that sense of small-community warmth, assuming it would be there the next time we went to a movie.
Under new ownership, the Granada will change, and some of the changes may be for the better. But without the pictures of cute little beagles dotting the ticket window, without the wonderful films that are often lost in the shuffle of big-screen bonanzas, and most of all, without the passion of Howard Taormino, the Granada Theater will lose some of its brilliance, and San Benito County will lose one of its quiet stars.
