Movie theater police raids: A relic of the past. Right?

I kept trying to go back in time, to the '70s, and take a picture of the Heights Art Theater, but Mitchell's Candy shop kept photo-bombing me. I finally gave up and went into 1970s-era Mitchell's, instead, for one of their homemade popsicles, an intense cherry-flavored cylinder in a little paper cup. Actually, I might have just imagined that. I'm not sure . . .
You wouldn’t think a church would be very controversial. Of course, it is in Cleveland Heights, so it has that potential. And it is located in Coventry Village, further increasing its chances.
But, wait—it wasn’t a church when it was controversial; it was a movie theater. Though, still, you wouldn’t think a movie theater would be that controversial, either. But it was—at least a couple of times. It never meant to be, but local law enforcement—and the political temper of those times—made it so.
The Heights Theater, located at the curve on the west side of Coventry Road, where it becomes Euclid Heights Boulevard, opened 105 years ago, in 1920. That was one year before my father was born. By the time my father was 5, he lived across the street from the theater. His family’s house was (and the house still is) on Washington Boulevard, three houses back from the Coventry branch of Heights Libraries, which wasn’t there when my father’s family moved in, but was built soon after.
The theater’s first brush with the law came 103 years ago this month, in April 1922, when Cleveland Heights police charged in and stopped the movie that was playing, arrested the theater’s two managers, and sent the 500 angry (and booing) movie-goers home. Why? Because it was a Sunday afternoon, and Ohio’s “blue laws” were in effect. They prohibited "theatrical or dramatic performances," as well as all other forms of commercial entertainment, on the Sabbath (well, Sunday is the Sabbath for some people, the ones who counted, I guess).
Cleveland Heights City Council eventually voted to allow Sunday movies in 1931, after receiving a petition in favor of the change signed by more than 9,000 Cleveland Heights residents.
The first talking musical movie, “The Jazz Singer,” starring Al Jolson, played at the Heights Theater in 1927, and my father, at 6 years old, saw it there, taken by his older brothers. And when I was 5, my older brother used to take me there, too, on Saturday or Sunday afternoons (stopping first at Mitchell’s Candy Store, next door, for popcorn and candy). We didn’t go to that theater as much, though, when I turned 6, because that was when the place became the Heights Art Theater, showing what they described as: "Only distinguished motion pictures of international prestige."
I remember the first one of those I ever saw, when I was 6—a film called “Hill 24 Doesn’t Answer” (the first feature film produced in Israel), about the 1948 war in Israel; maybe not the most appropriate movie for a 6 year old, but my whole family went together (and got dressed up for it). And I still remember many scenes from it. I think it was in English, maybe with a few lines in Hebrew, with subtitles (which my mother or brother would have read to me; had I been sitting next to my father, he would have kept telling me to wait, and then would have tried to explain the whole movie to me afterward).
It was in 1959 when the biggest controversy hit the theater. During a showing of an acclaimed French film, “Les Amants“ (“The Lovers”), police again raided the theater, kicked everyone out, confiscated the film, and arrested the theater’s manager, Nico Jacobellis. A long trial found Jacobellis guilty of possessing and exhibiting an obscene film. But Jacobellis fought the case all the way to the Supreme Court, which, in 1964, finally reversed the conviction, with a 6-2 vote.
By 1964, as a 15 year old, I was going to the Heights Art Theater again, now old enough for the movies that were shown there, especially British ones, like "Blow Up;" "A Man for All Seasons;" "The Pink Panther" and its first sequel, "A Shot in the Dark;" "Tom Jones;" "Lord of the Flies;" and independent American films, such as "David & Lisa."
In the 1970s and ‘80s, the Heights Art Theater started showing actual pornography—movies like "Behind the Green Door"—but, ironically, the police didn’t care anymore. Times had changed. And during the same time, on Friday and Saturday nights, the theater joined the popular national trend, becoming the midnight movie place, with long-term runs of "Harold and Maude," "Women in Love" and then "The Rocky Horror Picture Show."
In 1984, the Heights Art Theater changed its name to the Coventry Theater, then to the Centrum, and showed regular movies again. The theater finally gave up on movies in 2003—probably thwarted by the lack of nearby parking—and has since seen a succession of businesses, including a comedy club and, now, a church.
So things are pretty calm there now. But who knows? In today’s political climate, we might see a return to any kinds of shows—or even a church—being raided because of, well . . . any reason they might want to. But let’s hope for the best.
David Budin
David Budin is a freelance writer for national and local publications, the former editor of Cleveland Magazine and Northern Ohio Live, an author, and a professional musician and comedian. His writing focuses on the arts and, especially, pop-music history.