THE HUMAN SIDE OF PROMOTION A Small-Town Theatre Manager Visits the Sick, Makes a Hometown Movie, Keeps Attendance and Patrons Keyed to His Activities by HOWARD MOBLEY There are five candidates for mayor in our town of Minerva, Ohio. The Roxy Theatre, through Manager Wilton E. Gross, has made it known to each candidate that he will run screen advertising free for each one. This is typical of Gross's quick reactions to Minerva's pulse. this year, he noted that kiddy attendance had fallen off to where it was practically nil. He found out why during a series of calls he paid to all of our residents when he first arrived. He did something about it, enough to pack the house every Saturday matinee. He assured mothers that there would be no rowdyism, and invited them to see for themselves. He arranged for $25 worth of merchandise to be given" away Gross is no Johnny-come-lately. He's been in the business for 21 of his 39 years. He began at the Newman Theatre in Kansas City, worked for the Publix chain and RKO Theatres. For a number of years he worked under Nat Holt, now a Paramount producer, and was manager of the Palace in Columbus when Jean Peters won the Ohio State U. beauty contest sponsored by the theatre, which sent her off to a film career with 20th Century-Fox. Variety in Promotions There is nothing Gross won't do to promote his theatre and product. Good taste and decency are his only boundaries. Ideas, he claims, are plentiful, and every picture has a selling angle. He gets a good many angles from the Showmandiser, switches them to fit his own situation. BoxoFFiCE is the only tradepaper he gets. Some examples of Gross promotion : The local Firestone store for tie-in advertising and full window display on "Alice in Won- -^eriand." For "Bedtime for Bonzo," a live monkey around town, ten hours a day, word of mouth, no signs. For "Kentucky Jubilee," salt spread in front of the theatre; since it was August, everyone stopped to ask why, and was told that there was something in the film that suggested it might be a good idea to do this for the sidewalk. Result : packed house. That old curiosity; it gets 'em every time. Great for Lobby Displays W. E. Gross, manager of the Roxy Theatre, right, is shown with Richard Byers, local photographer, as they discuss production of the local movie they undertook as a civic project. Gross operates like the slickest of the socalled "big city slickers" in his on-yo'urtoes management of the Roxy, and what he has done for attendance at the Roxy proves it. At the same lime, he has become part of our town; people like him, respect him, have condifence in him, follow his recommendations as to pictures, and have made the Roxy the town's meeting place once more. Personally, I think he's the finest thing to hapjien to Minerva in a long time. A lot of other residents think so, too, as well as every businessman. We all know he's a "promoter," and we love to be "promoted" a la Gross. It's become a pleasure to plunk the price of admission down at the Roxy boxoffice. When he shakes hands and asks about Aunt Mabel's rheumatism, he is genuinely interested. We can tell. When he asks about Johnny's recovery from the measles, he means it. We know. You get to know a man quickly in a small town. I,et's continue with Johnny and all the kids. When Gross arrived here in April of free at Kiddy matinees. Naturally, he credits the merchants who donate the prizes. When a boy becomes too boisterous. Gross slides into a seat next to the offender, hands him a note, and walks away. Knowing children, he knows that the youngster will get to where there is some light, so that he can read the note. Gross is there waiting for him, and the boy is bewildered when he sees that the note is nothing but a theatre pass, or an okay for some free candy or popcorn. He says, "Johnny, got any sisters?" and Johnny says "Yep." "Well then, Johnny, suppose your sister were in the theatre and you were throwing popcorn and a piece hit her in the eye." Johnny always gets the idea. There is always a shamefaced apology, and rowdyism is pretty rare at the Roxy. The "little things" count most with Gross. He checks to see which of his patrons is ill, calls on them, or telephones and sends cheerful greeting cards. He's in the forefront on any civic project. He's a great one for lobby displays. Props simulate Ma and Pa Kettle, and a dummy of Frankenstein blinks brightly from a corner well enough in advance of playdate to whet film appetites. There has been a steady procession of stunts—a car driven by the "Invisible Man," a parade of antiquated autos for Red Skelton's "Pardon My Dust," a special greeting telegram from Howard Keel for "Showboat," kiddies' pie-eating contests. Maybe all this is what you term exploitation. I call it promotion. There are 20 merchants literally waiting in line to tie in with Gross and the Roxy. \^Tien he gives away something as simple as a watch, for instance, it becomes a production, with all the attendant ceremonies on stage. The merchant gets more from Gross than Gross gets from the merchant. That's pretty smart. Gross never studied api)lied psychology, but he certainly knows how to practice it. He thinks in terms of what he can give Minerva, not what he can get from Minerva. He was thinking just like that when he decided to film this year's Memorial Parade in our town. He figured folks might PROMOTION SECTION i
I j Weeks I hearsals. I Officialdom frequently shows up when Gross has special events at the theatre. When the hometown picture was premiered Leander Zwick, assistant attorney general, was present. He is shown addressing the crowd, with Mayor W. Ray Brown looking on, and Exhibitor Gross in the rear. Right, an ad on the premier of the hometown production. Watch for the World Premier of "Rhythm on Parade" .\ Hiiiind moUnn plctiir«i ulth All Local Talent Sept. 18 - 19 : nilh.:- K.\ll'.M*N «ncl FLINT n «• • T li .Sti.ilinls ut HIM ra«»l
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