On 6 July in 1963, Blood Feast had its premiere at the Bellevue Drive-In Theatre in the suburbs of Peoria, Illinois.
You may be wondering why producer David F Friedman chose this little town and not Chicago? Because he didn’t want to risk the film being seen by critics, which he thought could doom its distribution. And he was right! When the reviews came, they were savage. But Variety didn’t review it until 6 May 1964 — over a year later, by which time the film had made millions.
I have written extensively about Blood Feast. If there is anything you want to know about it, you should go check out my main article. Right now, I’d like to concentrate on the drive-in.
Bellevue is a tiny town. During the heyday of drive-ins, it had a population of roughly 1,500 people. That was certainly the case when, in 1948, the Bellevue Drive-In Theatre opened. That may seem like a poor place for a drive-in, but that tended to be the case. Drive-ins sprang up where land was plentiful. And the area had no problem supporting the theater for three decades.
It was apparently destroyed in a fire and demolished to make way for a K-Mart that was never built. And today, it appears to have an automotive repair and tractor retailer.
In later years, like many struggling drive-in theaters, it switched to airing pornography. But for one brief instant, the Bellevue Drive-In Theatre was part of film history!
Bellevue Drive-In Theatre image taken from Cinema Treasures under Fair Use.
A thing I read — I don’t remember where — explained that the death of the drive-in in modern times wasn’t necessarily because people hated the notion itself. In the old days, ticket prices were per the car, not the occupant, so it was great cheap entertainment for families. We went as late as the early 2000s, because you could bring your own beverages/snacks.
The problem was, drive-ins (in urban areas) had been built on the very outskirts of the metro. Where the property was super-cheap (you needed a lot of space for a parking lot theater). Not too far, though, or people wouldn’t want to make the drive. The very edges.
As urban sprawl expanded, that super-cheap land became the new suburbs! The property values (and taxes) went WAY up. So, eventually, owners just sold the land. A drive-in with two or three screens — and not a lot of structures to tear down — could go for over a million, easily. Heck, single HOUSES where our drive-in used to be now go for over a million. No wonder the owners cashed out.
I’m currently reading a history of the drive-in theater. You are right: it was property values that doomed the drive-in. But there are still some around. I love them. They provide the privacy of streaming with the event-nature of going to the theater. I remember going with my sister in PJs with feet…
When we were kids, going to the drive-in was sometimes a surprise. But… I couldn’t necessarily see them.
We went to nighttime Catholic masses sometimes, and I hated those, so I refused to wear my glasses. I liked regular Sunday church enough, just hated extra saint days stuff.
So, sometimes, we’d be told we were going to church, and I wouldn’t bring my glasses. And then it’d turn out to be a drive-in movie! That I couldn’t see at all. This was supposed to teach me a lesson about bringing my glasses to extra church. It didn’t take. I still enjoyed being at the drive-in, though.
That’s a clever parent move. But if I were around, I would have recommended taking your glasses but hiding them. Then, if you landed at the drive-in, you could suddenly find them!
But I think there is a connection here. I see going to the drive-in as a kind of worship.