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| Excerpt from STORMY WEATHER |
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Although the Baldwin had been around probably for more
years than I had, no one had put any money into the theater
for years, and it showed in everything from the lobby to
the quality of the concessions. So much so that its mostly
black clientele had fled to the better-appointed yet overcrowded
helleplexes in Westwood, Marina del Rey, and Century City.
Looking at the Baldwin's paltry selections of snacks, I
understood why.
But I remained doggedly loyal nonetheless. I'd had my first
real date at the Baldwin in 1968, so I had asked Aubrey
to meet me there out of a sense of nostalgia. That and a
desire to support the black, nonprofit developers who were
trying to get funding to build a new multiscreen complex
on the site. But I was sacrificing to do it—no nachos, a
decade of gum coating the floor, and a date who looked like
he'd rather be somewhere else. By the time I sat down, the
movie had started, and I settled in to watch Whitney and
Kevin throw smoldering looks at each other. And even though
the music was okay, for me neither it nor the chemistry
between the stars could compare to the heat generated between
Abbey Lincoln and Sidney Poitier in "For Love of Ivy," or
Sidney and Elizabeth Anderson in "A Warm December.'
If you would like to read more of STORMY WEATHER check it
out in the Books
page. Get details about "A
Warm December" and "For
Love of Ivy." |
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