As a non-profit organization, The Polk Theatre is supported by revenue from its films, a packed performing arts schedule, two yearly fundraisers, theatre rentals and the donations of altruistic patrons.
Photo by Cecil Thronhill
False balconies and windows decorate the walls of the
theatre.
“Notoriously, you never know when your next dollar is coming in,” says executive director Leslie Sikora.
“You have to rely on the kindness of strangers,” Sikora says, affecting a honeyed Southern drawl a la Scarlett O’ Hara.
“Well, others – not strangers,” she reemphasizes, dropping the lilt.
The theatre itself offers opulence unknown to those accustomed to the dreary sameness and the candy-crusted dinginess of the common megaplex.
The sidewalk leading to the glass entrance is lined with brass stars engraved with patron’s names. The old-fashioned marquee’s blue, white and yellow bulbs flash overhead, signaling that movie going at the Polk is an event, a spectacle.
A sign near the door reads: “When you’ve been around as long as we have, you’re either good or you’re history. We’re both.”
The freestanding ticket booth, usually manned by a rotation of kindly octogenarian attendants, is modeled in ornate pale rose marble. The walls of the theatre, a rich terracotta color mottled with blue and mauve, are lined with Italian frescoes, carved niches, aged bronze scones and false balconies and windows.
Squint, and you’re transported to an Italian villa. An impromptu staging of Romeo and Juliet wouldn’t seem out of place.
The theatre’s architect, J.E. Casale, an Italian immigrant, designed the theatre in three tiers: a sloping ground floor complete with an orchestra pit and a lower and upper mezzanine. The seats are plush red velvet, spaced for optimum leg room.
The cobalt-blue ceiling is dotted with twinkling stars, and when the lights dim, soft, drifting clouds are projected, mirroring a clear night sky.
The attention to detail makes movies seem like an afterthought compared with the architectural spectacle, the result of a $1.5 million restoration project completed in 1999, aiming to return the theatre to its original splendor.
Constructed in 1928 under the patronage of Lakeland businessman John E. Melton, the theatre’s extravagance had to have been a dream-like anomaly to Lakeland’s rural population of 15,000.
In the late 1920s, residents could escape from swampy Florida summers in the innovative 100-ton air wash system and enjoy Hollywood’s newest invention, “talkies,” through the Vitaphone sound system.
The theatre screened Hollywood’s prestigious films, labeling the Polk as the venue to draw “respectable people to a respectable theatre for a respectable product.”