“Enemy At The Gates”

  While back in New York,  I had wanted to see Alan. We were going to go to a movie, but nothing that was playing was of interest to us except for a movie called “Enemy At The Gates.” This is a movie about a WWII Russian sniper that became so much of a propaganda hero that the Germans were gunning for him.

  The problem with the movie was it had been out for a while and was now only playing in one theater on Long Island. According to the newspaper, it was playing in Westbury, a bit of a trek but we had little choice. I picked Alan up at his new apartment and we raced to the theatre. We were running late and feared we would miss the start of the movie. We got to the theater and ran into the building. The place looked abandoned and was desolate except for one old man playing solitaire at the concession stand counter.

  “Hi there.” The old man said. “Can I help you?”

  “Ummm… we are here to see Enemy at the Gates.” We bought our tickets even though I immediately felt like I didn’t want to see it now after all. “Did it start yet?” I asked,.

  “No. It didn’t start yet. I was just about to close the place down for the night.” He responded.

  “No one else is here? Umm, okay… we’ll go then.” Actually relieved.

  “Oh no. I’ll play the movie. Would you like any refreshments?”

  Alan looked up at the board and said “I’ll have the Nachos, please.” I was shocked that was bold enough to order something from this place.

  “Oh, don’t pay attention to that board. We don’t have any of those.”

 “Okay… what do you have?” Alan asked. In the end he ordered a soda. The man literally pulled a can of Coke out of a plastic cooler and poured it into a cup. He then turned around to look at the same board he had told us to ignore for a price and said “That’ll be $3.00.” Alan was about to spout off about everything that was wrong with this transaction, but I pretty much convinced Alan to let it go. I did not want to anger the only person that would be creeping around in the dark while we were alone in this theater.

  He then looked at our tickets and said, ”It will be in theater 2. Just wait in the foyer over there.”  We went into the foyer. It was pitch black. In the theater, so we couldn’t go in if we wanted to. We heard noises from out in the lobby or above us. He was apparently going up to the balcony, although to us it was unclear what he was doing. While we waited, we cracked a few jokes about the whole experience thus far. “Nachos, Alan? Really?”, “People have died in this theater. Whole families.” I cracked, paraphrasing John Lennon in ‘Backbeat.’

  Finally, after seemed like forever, the old man turned on a spotlight in the theater and followed us down the aisle until we found our seats. There were quite a few broken seats and what little light reflected off the walls showed that the paint was chipping and brick-face was showing.

  The movie started (No previews) and ended up being really good. The theater made the experience even better because we felt like we were in war-torn Europe. And the idea of that weird old man lingering in the dark kept us on the edge of our seat.

  When the movie ended (he turned it off before the credits rolled) we sat in the dark wondering if we had to wait for the spotlight again. We didn’t. The house lights came on and we saw how bad the place really looked. Condemned. We went into the lobby and the old man started to discuss the movie with us. No quick escape for us.

  Alan decided he needed to use the rest room. While he was in there the old man started to discuss the plans they were having for main street. They had visions of converting the entire block to a “Renaissance Faire” themed area, kind of like Old Bethpage Village Restoration was a “colonial times” park where you see what Long Island was like during the times of the settlers.  He was talking about restoring the theater to be able to host Shakespearian Plays and rejuvenate the area. He then showed me a lst of 5 names of people who donated to try and get them up to the millions and millions they needed to raise. He asked me to donate $100.00 to a project that would never happen. I politely told him that I wasn’t from around here and to ask Alan. When Alan got out I had the man tell him what he told me and Alan nodded and said “People actually donated to this cause?”

  It’s now been ten years since that night. The town is not Renaissance themed. The theater is still there, long abandoned and shuttered. But I’ll always remember goi

ng to that movie.