The movie opens with an establishing shot of the Golden Gate Bridge - we are in San Francisco. The view looks from the ocean side into the Bay; the misty outline of Angel Island is discernible under the span on the right.
We tag along with a nautical guide as it leads us into the city …
Then … A birds-eye view shows San Francisco’s crowded Financial District/Downtown area clustered around its tallest building, the 52-story Bank of America Center completed in 1969. Over on the right the Bay Bridge reaches out to Yerba Buena Island on its way to Oakland.
… and Now, it’s even more crowded today because of the encroachment of the Financial District into the South of Market neighborhood. In 2018 the 61 story, 1.1 billion dollar, bullet-shaped Salesforce Tower assumed the tallest building bragging rights. In the center Market Street, arrow-straight, points directly to the Ferry Building at the Bay’s edge.
Then … Finally we arrive in Nob Hill. The camera slowly pans from the Park Lane Apartments on the left past distant high-rise apartments atop Russian Hill, ending up at the classy building on the right where we see an apparently suicidal man standing on a ledge.
… and Now, that building is the Brocklebank Apartments at 1000 Mason Street (map). The photo below looks over the rooftop of the Pacific Union Club to the Brocklebank. On the left is the Park Lane Apartments and at far right the Fairmont Hotel from whose roof the above panorama was filmed (photo by Ron Henggeler. Check out his excellent website of San Francisco and Marin County photographs).
… and Now, here’s a closer look at the Brocklebank, again with the Fairmont at far right. The elegant building is approaching its centennial - it was built in 1926.
In 1958 Alfred Hitchcock chose the Brocklebank for the home of Kim Novak’s character Madeleine in ‘Vertigo’. Below, she walks to her green Jaguar parked in the courtyard. (Trivia time - San Francisco’s favorite journalist Herb Caen lived in this building and was a less-than-proud owner of a white Jaguar - persistent reliability problems prompted him to refer to it as “the white rat”).
Then … The seagull alights right next to the man on the ledge. This view looks out from the Brocklebank to the Pacific Union Club at lower right, the Huntington Hotel in the upper right corner and the Fairmont Hotel’s international flag array at lower left.
… and Now, viewed from behind the Brocklebank, here’s a recent Google aerial of those buildings. This wider view also shows Huntington Park on the right and the Mark Hopkins Hotel at upper left.
The man on the ledge is Theodore ‘Teddy’ Pierce (Gene Wilder). But why is he there? And why is he wearing a bathrobe? And what’s the significance of the seagull next to him? Even he doesn’t seem to know, asking himself in voiceover … “How the hell did I get up here?”. This scene is a flash-forward; all will be explained as the movie unfolds.
(If you are wondering if that really was Gene Wilder nine stories above the Brocklebank’s courtyard, not so - a stunt man was used for the wide shots. Gene filmed his close-ups at ground level on a Hollywood backlot).
Down in the boiler room Red Moran, determined to avenge the Chronicle’s exposé of his boss, plies the boilerman with booze and challenges him to a coal shoveling contest, having first closed off the steam line. Tension mounts as the camera cuts repeatedly to the pressure gauge slowly moving into the danger level, an audience suspense-building technique often used later by the master of suspense, Alfred Hitchcock.
Then … His sabotage causes an explosion and fire at the Chronicle headquarters; multiple alarms summon a frantic response from the city’s fire brigade.
… a vintage photo … here’s a 1915 photo image showing the Chronicle Building as it was when the movie was filmed.
… and Now, the building, also seen earlier in the movie, is still there today at 690 Market on the corner of Kearny Street. It has since been remodeled and doubled in height to create the swanky condominiums of the Ritz-Carlton Club and Residences.
Then … Firehouses in San Francisco and in Los Angeles were filmed for the response scenes. The director jumps all over the place with random cuts between the locations but for this post shots from the same firehouse are presented together. After this first truck exits the firehouse (top left) the camera cuts to a wider view allowing us to see where it was filmed.
… in 1950 … here’s that location, unchanged even though this c. 1950 photo was taken 25 years later. The arched doorway at the bottom right corner is where the fire engine exited, top left above. In San Francisco, this is the Truck Company 1 firehouse at 418 Jessie Street, South of Market, in what’s now known as Mint Plaza (map).
… and Now, a recent view of Mint Plaza today, again mostly unchanged except the firehouse is no longer there; today it’s the restaurant Burma Love, now readdressed as 8 Mint Plaza.
Then … In this shot the building on the left looks familiar …
… and Now, that’s because we are still in Mint Plaza alongside the old Mint Building. The restaurant that replaced Truck Company 1’s firehouse is over on the right side and the building facing us is the one on the left, two images above.
Then … Inside the next firehouse a message is received on a Gamewell Punch Register (top corner) that identifies the source of the originating alarm on a ticker-tape. Firemen waste no time manning a fire engine (on the left) and a fire truck (on the right). Fire engines usually carried water; fire trucks usually did not , instead carrying a rescue ladder and other equipment such as jaws of life.
Then … As the fire engine leaves, the firehouse name is the clue to its location; this was filmed at the Engine Company 24 / Truck Company 1 firehouse in Los Angeles’ Little Tokyo district at 204 South Hewitt Street (map).
… in 1922 … here’s a vintage 1922 photo showing the station three years earlier. At that time a different truck company, No. 5, shared the building with Engine Company 24.
… and Now, the station, on the corner of S. Hewitt and E. 2nd Streets, is no longer there; the space is now a parking lot. What a waste of a fine old building.
Then … Two engines from Engine Company 2 at 460 Bush Street in San Francisco’s Financial District are the next to respond. The compact 1908 firehouse, at far left, was the first firehouse rebuilt following the 1906 earthquake. The columned building next to it was a Pacific Telephone & Telegraph Company building at 444 Bush Street.
… and Now, the classy Beaux Arts firehouse building is still there but it has been converted to office space.
Chan is never found, leaving one to suspect that Chan per se did not exist. Was he a representation of Chinatown’s Asian community? If so, Chan is captured everywhere in this selection of photographs of 1970s Chinatown residents taken by photojournalist Bob Eckert. These images and many more are on Bob’s website.
Then … Clarence happens to be parked across from the police station when the police arrive; he sees them hustling Ray McDonald inside. This was filmed in Hollywood as evidenced by the stores behind him - Ford & Ford Chiropractic on the right was listed in the 1925 Los Angeles city directory at 5911 Hollywood Blvd and Star Cleaners was listed at 5913 Hollywood Blvd.
… and Now, the chiropractor’s office at 5911 is now Sparadise Massage & Spa; Star Cleaners at 5913 is now Bread and Butter lunch and coffee shop. Note the lamppost in the center - remarkably it appears to be the same one a century later as in the movie shot above.
Then … He rushes over to see what’s going on; inside he is astounded to hear that Ray is being charged with accepting a $50,000 bribe; he is helpless as Ray is manhandled, protesting the whole way, to a jail cell.
Police Station 6 appeared earlier in the movie. It’s on the right side in this vintage photo where it shared a building with LAFD’s Engine 27 from 1913 to 1930.
… and Now, what’s more, it wasn’t opposite where Clarence was parked; it was a good 7 or 8 blocks away at 1629 N. Cahuenga Blvd. Check the location now, completely rebuilt. (Note the adjacent brick building partially visible at far left, above, - it’s still there today).
As a close friend of the McDonald family Clarence can’t bring himself to call the shocking news into his newspaper, leaving it instead to the local beat reporter who doesn’t hesitate to call the city editor. With eighteen minutes to press time it’s all hands on deck to rewrite the front page in time for the day’s last edition.
Then … In the next sequence the audience gets to see step-by-step how a newspaper story is created - from its initial composition to the final printed page. It begins with the copy editor receiving the story outline from the city editor. He writes the story and sends it on to linotype machine operators who turn his words into metal ‘slugs’ - lines of text cast from molten metal as fast as the operator types them in.
This and the sequence of operations that follow were all filmed in the Chronicle’s newly built 901 Mission Street building in San Francisco’s Soma district (map); the 1920s photograph below shows the composing room where the linotype machines were filmed.
Then … The metal slugs and an etched photo plate are arranged by compositors at makeup tables (on the left, below) into a full page format (on the right). The words and images are reversed, like a negative, so that when printed they will read in normal format.
The makeup tables were in the same composing room as the linotype machines. This photograph of them also shows a linotype battery at far right.
Then … When the page is complete a sample sheet is printed out and checked for errors. A papier-mâché sheet is then beaten against the completed layout to form a mold (called a ‘flong’) which in turn is used to cast a curved metal plate (called a ‘stereotype’) which will pair with a rotary press to print the newspaper page.
Here’s a photo taken at 901 Mission Street of the same equipment being used to cast stereotype plates.
Then … With time running out the finished plate is winched down to the press room below. Tom’s supervisor grabs it and sends it along a conveyor to Tom, waiting at a press. He bolts it into place, jubilant, knowing they’ve pulled it off - the presses start rolling just in time for the day’s last edition.
This 1920s photo taken in the Chronicle’s press room looks from the opposite direction along the plate conveyor seen above. Alongside it are the massive rotary printing presses, 14 of them in a row.
Tom’s celebration is cut short when he sees the front page with a photograph of his son under a huge headline trumpeting the bribery charge.