Partying With The Deceased At Hollywood Forever Cemetery

Who knew when my husband and I set out on our trip to Los Angeles, we’d be partying with the deceased. Our mission was to drop off our fifteen year old grandson at SOCAPA, a film camp in Pasadena. But first we planned some sightseeing, one of the sights being the Griffith Observatory overlooking the famous Hollywood sign. There on the hill overlooking Los Angeles, we met a former actor who told us about Saturday night film screenings at the Hollywood Forever Cemetery . We were intrigued. We didn’t know if it was a well kept secret or what, but it certainly wasn’t listed in any itineraries for what to see and do in L.A.

Back in the hotel that night, I searched the internet for “movie” and “Hollywood Forever Cemetery” and discovered Cinespia has been hosting summer film nights at this burial ground for the past ten years.

As the three of us are all film buffs, we embraced the idea of seeing a film in an unusual setting. The film advertised was the 80s cult classic, Flash Gordon produced by Dino De Laurentis of Ragtime and Blue Velvet fame. When we arrived at the Hollywood Forever cemetery on Santa Monica boulevard just across from Paramount studios, we found to our surprise, a well organized event. There were collectors of fees at the gates—parking, $10 and admission for each person another $10—and other personnel directing us to parking down the roads. The show was to start at 9, and since we were one of the last cars let in, it was almost pitch black by the time we parked our car by some gravestones.

Carrying blankets and water bottles, we walked gingerly past the deceased. I kept glancing at the headstones we passed, thinking there might be some recognizable names. I later discovered that Hollywood Forever cemetery is the oldest memorial place in Los Angeles and contains the burial remains of many famous Hollywood celebrities; among them, director John Huston, actor Tyrone Powell and actress, Jayne Mansfield.

Near the site of the screening—a large open grassy space the size of a football field—there was a small stand with a man selling bottles of wine. I was taken aback. Wine by the glass would be shocking enough, but bottles? At the open air theatre space, already occupied by hundreds of people on blankets with candle-lit picnic meals, there was a line of port-a-potties to the right. On the wide screen, the side of a mausoleum, was a slide show of posters touting bygone movies—some of them to be shown in future screenings—and next to it, a DJ was blaring music from his loudspeakers. The sweet smell of marijuana wafted over the crowd, and at one point, I wondered if it was possible to get stoned just by inhaling what was around us. I wished we had at least brought popcorn. Still, we were happy just to be there.

The movie turned out to be a lot of laughs, given the performances, the directing and the dialogue. Some of it good, some of it very bad. In fact, the lead actor, was nominated for a Razzie in 1981 for worst actor. Among the film’s admirers, there’s an ongoing debate as to whether the film was meant to be tongue in cheek or a serious superhero movie. We were also astonished at how well-behaved the crowd was, despite the wine sales and obvious toking up of grass. The audience kept the area clean and conducted themselves respectfully as if the cemetery’s residents could rise from their graves and complain if they didn’t.

The night made me think of another celebration my husband and I attended decades earlier in the colonial town, San Miguel de Allende, Mexico. It was the Day of the Dead and while walking the town streets, we stumbled upon family upon family bearing flowers and picnic baskets. We followed them to the cemetery where a Catholic priest conducted prayers for the masses gathered there. My husband and I prayed as well and shed tears for those we’d lost. But when we looked around, we only saw joyous faces. For the Mexicans, it wasn’t a time of grieving. It was a time for celebrating life.

We left the Hollywood Forever Cemetery with the feeling we’d participated in something very special—a party with the deceased in attendance. What better way to spend an evening than in a place where the line separating the dead from the living is erased. It was as if those that departed were watching the film with us. And for all we know, they did.