For years, Colin Egan has been telling people that he doesn’t need to go to a gym to work out; he gets all the exercise he needs working around the theater.
That theater is the historic Landmark Loew’s Jersey Theatre in Journal Square, where he has become something of a fixture, helping to lead the movement to restore the movie palace to some of its former glory.
“I still do a lot to keep in shape,” says Egan, who is executive director of the theater and a founder of Friends of the Loew’s (FOL).
This is no exaggeration. Following him around the theater for his daily routine is like tailing an acrobat. He climbs a platform outside the theater to put up letters on the marquee one minute, next he’s rushing down an aisle, running upstairs to one of the numerous alcoves off the balcony, or climbing the metal stairway behind the stage.
I watch anxiously as he ventures onto the scaffolding high above the stage, a daredevil feat.
Egan is too busy to look down or worry about falling.
A former teacher and public-relations professional, Egan now breathes and bleeds show business.
In 1987 he happened to be passing the theater with an architect buddy when local residents were protesting its imminent demolition.
The old theater had become a victim of its own excess at a time when home video and multiplexes made such movie palaces obsolete.
Yet venues like the Loew’s speak to the part of the human psyche that craves nostalgia and grace. As with an old cruise ship, no amount of decay can mask its luxurious bones.
Egan didn’t think at the time that he could save it, but he wanted to try.
“So when my friend suggested we go to the Planning Board that night, I went,” he says. “I never thought we could do it, but as it turned out, we didn’t actually lose.” The city refused to give the developer the permits to raze the building.
Act Two
It was a different Journal Square back then; the city envisioned tall office towers that would draw workers, similar to Newark’s high rises.
“The problem was they couldn’t find tenants for the building they had already proposed,” Egan says, “and so they would have demolished this building and ended up with a vacant lot.”
The theater was in terrible shape but had potential. Sewerage, water, and electric service had been cut. The stage and lobby were filled with trash. Prior management had divided the once elegant interior into mini-theaters in an attempt to increase profits by running simultaneous movies.
The developer allowed Egan and other volunteers access to the theater. Peggy Giodan, one of the earliest volunteers, says they petitioned to get services restored and then slowly began cleaning the interior. They started with the magnificent lobby, as big as a mansion’s ballroom, with grand ornamentation that seems to glitter in the dark.
“We held our first functions in the lobby,” Egan says.
The city eventually purchased the building, but money for restoration was hard to come by. Volunteers, meanwhile, invaded the place like an army of ants, carrying away debris bit by bit.
The theater eventually got grants from the Hudson County Open Space Trust Fund and other sources, but restoration is expensive, requiring expert consultants.
Egan became his own expert and relied on the expertise of volunteers, who often came up with innovative and inexpensive solutions.
He claims that previous administrations failed to live up to their financial obligations, but earlier this year, the city attempted to wrest control of the theater from FOL and transfer it to corporate production companies. The court ruled that the city’s contract with FOL was valid, and FOL retained control.
But Egan says he and Jersey City Mayor Steven Fulop want the same thing.
“We just don’t agree on how to get there,” he says. “We are willing to let a big entertainment producer get involved. We just don’t want local artists to suffer.”
Act Three
Egan acknowledges that the theater is far from what it ought to be. It lacks air conditioning, which would allow programs to run during the summer.
“Most of the money we get from the county goes toward bringing us up to code,” he says.
So he, Giodan, and other volunteers continue to get exercise by doing things the old-fashioned way: fixing what needs to be fixed, installing what needs to be installed, and staging shows that will keep people interested in the theater.
Educating the public is a big part of the restoration process. The more people he can reach by teaching them about the history of the theater, the more incentive there will be to restore it to its original grandeur. He leads tours and hosts weddings and receptions. In fall, winter and spring the theater shows movies. Egan will have no shortage of exercise for the foreseeable future as he puts up letters on the marquee or climbs stage stairs or balances on narrow scaffolding high above the stage.
He says, “If you love something that much, you want to do it.”—JCM