Movies On The Move

IN SHOW BIZ, as her father’s helper, was the author, pictured here in ’48.

Dad’s portable entertainment was big in small towns…and it was free!

With men returning from their World War II service, jobs were scarce and people had to become innovative. My father, Harold Muir, was one of these creative entrepreneurs.

Dad realized that kids in small communities, including our hometown of Imlay City, had limited entertainment. So he started up Muir Entertainment, a business of showing free movies in the “thumb” of Michigan—the state’s lower peninsula is shaped like a mitten, and the thumb area is bordered by Lake Huron.

My father solicited small-town merchants to advertise their specials for a small fee to pay for the movies and Dad’s time. From year to year, cities would drop out and others would join up. Over 7 years, Dad took movies to nearly three dozen towns in seven counties, towns with populations of usually much less than a thousand. He limited the number of towns to stay on a weekly schedule.

My father would promote the merchants’ wares over his public-address system. Sometimes, I’d accompany him, collecting money and ads from the merchants. If there were a lot of announcements to read, Dad would have me change the movie reel. I’d also help with the screen and run wires.

The movies, from a film-rental company, were most often shown on a white screen. Poles with pulleys were set up by the electric or telephone company in a vacant lot or park, or the pulleys were attached to the side of a building. A large, white canvas screen was fastened to the pulleys, pulled taut and fastened securely. In a few towns, the movie was shown on the side of a cinder-block building painted white.

Large speakers were fixed to the top of Dad’s Plymouth, one side of the car parked parallel to the screen. The projector was set up with the lens pointing out a backseat window. A business ran a power cord or the city installed an outlet to run the projector and sound system.

Kids brought blankets, pillows and popcorn, spreading the blankets on the grassy area in front of Dad’s car. Their parents sat in cars to the side of the projection car or far enough behind it to view the films. Families sometimes bought candy, pop or ice cream from a nearby store.

As the sky grew dark, Dad would announce, “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. Welcome to this evening’s movie…”

Everyone would applaud as the cartoon came on the screen for the little ones. A thrilling serial followed the cartoon each week and ended with the hero or heroine in peril—a big draw for people to return the following week to find out what happened to the Green Hornet or another hero.

Finally, a two-reel feature was shown. Between reels, my father advertised the sponsors’ specials and encouraged those in attendance to support the merchants who brought them the night’s entertainment.

Shows went on even during a rainy evening; I remember people sitting in cars with the windshield wipers going. Only a couple of times do I recall the movie being postponed by a power outage or heavy rainstorm. The movies were shown only in the summer; in the winter, my father showed educational films in one-room schools or ran movies with support from local school boards or fund-raising money.

Dad continued showing free summertime movies until 1952, when he was recruited to manage movies at a local drive-in. Such theaters were making inroads at the time, and some indoor theaters were closing. Drive-ins were cheaper to attend, with the whole family entertained for the price of two adult admissions of a regular theater.

Kids who’d sat on blankets to watch movies on a white wall or a canvas screen came back to Dad’s drive-in as adults. They’d reminisce about seeing those earlier movies for free.

By Arlene Muir Corriveau, Ypsilanti, Michigan