With broadcast footage of the August ceremony hitting television screens across the country, it soon became apparent that Star Wars and the Chinese Theatre would become inseparable icons of the new Hollywood. If Star Wars sparked a revolution in cinematic content, the Chinese was there to present it in the best possible light. With Star Wars in tow the Chinese had once again become the toast of Hollywood, reclaiming the luster that had waned through the difficult cinematic decades of the sixties and seventies. Bucking the trend for a film to perform progressively weaker with time, the Chinese brought in $88,451 after its first week of returning Star Wars, about $25,000 more than it had been making just two blocks away at its sister theater. The hard lesson that Hollywood learned by the move was that sometimes the medium is as important as the message.
Throughout the remainder of the year, the Chinese remained Hollywood's Star Wars Mecca, pairing its name and image with Star Wars' on postcards and bumper stickers. By Christmas, the calls to local information operators for theaters showing Star Wars were not coming in at 100 per hour like they had in June, but the Star Wars juggernaut still forged ahead at record-breaking speed. Even with the 10:30 a.m. show removed and the midnight shows relegated to Friday and Saturday nights, Star Wars still showed a respectable return throughout the winter and spring of 1978. By the time Star Wars had reached its first year anniversary in May, it had grossed $219 million worldwide and had been seen by 87 million people. More people, the Dallas Times Herald pointed out, than had voted in the 1976 presidential election.
Fox decided that a celebration was in order to commemorate the achievement, and Hollywood chose the Chinese Theatre to stage its anniversary ceremony. Los Angeles Mayor Tom Bradley was on hand to cut an enormous blue and white Star Wars cake commissioned to Cake and Art, the same people who produced the now famous cake depicted on the Star Wars Happy Birthday poster. In theaters across the country, thousands of children were treated to free viewings of Star Wars as well as complimentary candy, drinks, posters, and action figures. At the Chinese, the coveted red-shrouded usher flashlights were made available to theatergoers for a small price, which were often waved like mini lightsabers by kids when the lights dimmed out.
With its viability intact and its legacy firmly grounded in the forecourt's cement, Star Wars quietly left the Chinese and passed on to other venues when it went into general release that July. Ted Mann had successfully isolated its limited release to the flagship in his Hollywood theater circuit, thereby hallowing the venue as the perceived destination of choice. Though Star Wars played concurrently in two other major Hollywood theaters, history casts them aside when it remembers the torrid Star Wars summer of 1977. The image of enthusiastic crowds and Star Wars celebrity fanfare at the Chinese seems branded into the public memory, when a critical juncture joining new and old Hollywood transformed the cinematic landscape. Today, the Chinese, which regained the original "Grauman's" name several years ago, has become so intimately associated with Star Wars that it has become a virtual shrine to visiting fans. One magazine said it best a few years ago, when it called the Chinese Theatre "The Spiritual Center of All Things Star Wars".
