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For castle hours and directions, you can visit its website.
And if you really want to make it a Disney-themed experience, pack an outfit accordingly.
We all have our origin stories—our radioactive spider bites or parents gunned down outside the Gotham opera. He didn’t know how far awry this trip to the movies would go.
Mine occurred in a movie theater when I was a wee child and features blood, tears and the Devil. All he could see was little me, so excited for the film that I got nosebleed from pure joy.
In 1982, my father was thirty-two and I, his youngest child, was three. I demanded that my parents play a 45 of “Duke of Earl” as part of my bedtime ritual. We passed Yuen Hing Palace, the Chinese restaurant where men in dark suits and heavy-framed glasses planned both the Bay of Pigs and Nixon’s visit to China.
Back then we were a family of five standing in line for tickets, followed by an even longer line for seats.
Despite its massive screen, the Uptown’s lobby could not hold more than a few dozen people.
In middle school I played hooky and navigated the bus system to watch “2001,” Keir Dullea’s trans-dimensional psychedelic eye blink rendered mythic by the sheer scale of the Uptown’s curving screen.
In eighth grade I snatched the very last ticket to the very last seat of the first screening of “Blade Runner: The Director’s Cut.” In high school I lay down in front of the front row to watch “Empire Strikes Back: The Special Edition,” AT-AT walkers attacking the Ice Planet of Hoth while looming like skyscrapers about to fall onto my body.
The 200CD became a ubiquitous audio generator in engineering laboratories worldwide from the 1950s to the 1990s.