“Zing Boom Ta-ra-rel. Join in a glass of good cheer.” Welcome to Hank’s Bar at the Hotel Stillwell. Hank first tapped the kegs in 1954. Since then, his bar has become a bed rock haven for downtown’s barfly jambalaya. Henry “Hank” Holzer (R.I.P 1998), born 1908 in Greenwich Village, NYC, opened Hank’s after retiring from a lauded career as a professional prizefighter. Apparently, Hank gathered inspiration for his bar from the classic Noir ficiton of Damon Runyon and Raymond Chandler. He came out West looking for adventure, and, by all accounts, was a stand up guy who took to memorizing his patrons’ names, faces, and favorite drinks. Hank sold the bar in 1970 in order to look after his ailing wife, but returned in 1984 to run the bar until his death in 1998 at the age of 88. He’s said to have credited his longevity to drinking Screwdrivers and not smoking tobacco. Go figure. Hank’s Bar delivers on all fronts: nostalgia, seediness, odd customers, strong drinks, charming bartenders, wall to wall eye candy, live fish, popcorn, and a healthy prescription of low light.
Criminey. I’m light-headed just thinking of the evenings I nearly died stumbliung across the street out of that place.
I can almost hear the sound of tinkling glass, as you try to juggle a martini, and I still feel the cold stare of the regulars which followed . . . .
Ah, memories. Makes me want to steal the neighbors’ newspapers or stare forlornly out my window, hoping to get a glimpse of Whoopi Goldberg or Club Galaxy.
I’ll go one step further than the rest of you. I’ve stayed at the Stillwell. Who among you can claim the same?
I’m not sure I understand . . . did the bar close its doors for good? Did Hank make movies in the backroom? Is this just an exercise in nostalgia? What exactly did John do in that hotel room?
What happens at the Stillwell, stays at the Stillwell.
i’m with jeff. first we start talking about books, then the boys share stories about bars… arnab, i demand that you take down this thread.
gio, jeff, will it change your minds to discover that a film was once made in a backroom at hank’s, the “talent” of which included john, a female iguana, two hard boiled eggs, and a silk cravat? if i remember correctly frisoli was the director. at least he was listed as such–he did most of his directing at the bar, while mike and a creepily giggling mauer made most of the movie.
I took my name off that! it’s now credited to Alan Smithee.
and, John, I stayed one night at the Stillwell when I returned to LA for my defense–it was memorable for the sticky substance on every surface and for my next door neighbor who played the television at a remarkable volume and spent the night coughing up his remaining lung. I got smart and the next day made my upgrade to a downtown motel for $200 a week–now that was luxury!
I still giggle creepily. It’s my trademark.
I have not however attempted to juggle martinis since then.
Though in retrospect, it’s the kind of performance art that kids today would probably benefit from seeing.
“I’m not the crazy one… You’re the crazy one.”