It was 6 pm October 24, 1971 and 600 people were inside the Playboy Theater on 57th Street in New York City. Another hundred or so were lined up outside waiting for tickets to see the next screening of the satire on sex, "Is There Sex After Death?"
After a year of sweat, blood, tears and money, my wife, Jeanne, and I had completed our first feature film with the great Buck Henry doing his best comedy. I produced and she directed. We were sitting in balcony with our attorney, Bob Schwartz, nervously waiting for the lights to dim. It was now 6:10, we could see the 86 year-old projectionist fumbling with the 16 mmfilm, trying to open the film gate in the projector.....it was a new Hortzon, developed by a French inventor, loaned to us and it enlarged 16 mm to 35 mm on the screen. Even critic Pauline Kael admitted later she was fooled.
Now it was 15 after 6, the projectionist was still fumbling and feet began a rhythmic thump downstairs in the orchestra section. The three of us became even more nervous and exchanged concerned glances. What in the world was wrong? Then a sigh of relief as the lights dimmed and the projector could be heard whirring. Then grinding to a halt. On the screen was a huge red fire as the film began to burn, fueled by the 1,500 watt bulb and clogged up on sprocket teeth.
Almost by instinct, Jeanne sprang up from her seat and ran into the projection booth. I inquired of Bob what the penalty was for 1st degree murder. Before he could answer, amid the groans of the audience, I hurried downstairs and up on the stage. Jeanne brought up the house lights and began cleaning out the burnt film so she could re-thread. After all, she was an experienced film editor with many hours at the Steenbeck and Kem machines.
I had just appeared on radio station WBAI to promote the film's opening, so I had enough material to hold the audience's attention and stall any mass exodus. This was our only print available and I knew that critics were in the audience. So it was really and truly showtime!
"Ladies, gentlemen and germs. My name is Alan Abel and I am the producer of this dirty, rotten, filthy film. And I never thought there were so many degenerates in this city. Just stay where you are because I'm placing everyone under house arrest. Why did you come here? No pun intended. Did you think you were going to be entertained? Perhaps meet the love of your miserable life? Well, think again. If you came here to learn about sex, you're in great trouble. Consider the dinosaurs. They had no sex lives and soon became extinct. Oh, they tried things. For example, tying a string at the base of the genitals to remember something. They remembered it was very painful. By the way, we will be giving free vasectomy operations in the lobby during intermission......."
The lights were dimming, the crowd gave me a very large round of applause and thus began "Is There Sex After Death." The early newspaper editions that night gave rave reviews, as did both radio and television news programs. We were on a roll indeed and never looked back. Oh, the old projectionist? He retired before I could kick his ass.
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