Bill Kay admires Hollywood's Egyptian theatre and Musso & Frank

It's corny, it's tatty, it's trivial, but Hollywood still exerts magic even though they don't make films there any more. Today I took a closer look at two Hollywood icons - the Egyptian Theatre and Musso & Frank - and came away marvelling at how their fascination seems as strong as ever.
The Egyptian tour is organised by the present non-profit owners, the altruistic American Cinematheque, as a once-a-month look at the history and behind the scenes. If you think the newly painted Egyptian theme has just been cooked up by a bunch of 21st century designers, think again. The wall paintings and tiles along the walls of the magnificent courtyard are all either original or repainted from the original plans. I had forgotten from my first visit, in the 80s, that they had had the box office in an isolated booth out front, and didn't realise how many restructurings it had gone through since it was opened by Sid Grauman in 1922.
But, even though I have been back to the Egyptian many times since moving to Pasadena in August 2006, I hadn't realised how cleverly the theatre had been restored.
The main problem, as explained by our highly knowledgeable and articulate guide, Mark, was that it was built as a silent film theatre, to earthquake-resisting building standards that would be considered ridiculously inadequate today. American Cinematheque wanted the best of both worlds: a cinema that could show modern films, but in a restoration that as far as possible recaptured the original building.
The answer, in essence, has been to build two cinemas inside the main shell, with up-to-date acoustic and electronic fittings, that are all easily removable if and when another restoration is mounted. The effect must offend some purists, and it may well be rethought by future owners or guardians, but I think it works.
We can, as a group of about 15 did today, appreciate the original, right down to the dressing rooms used by artists who took part in massive and elaborate prologues before the silent films were shown. But when the lights go down, we could also enjoy a modern film shown to the highest audio and visual standards, in great comfort with uncluttered views. It's a compromise, but everything today has to earn its corn and the owners have to keep the box-office busy. A 1,700-seat theatre showing only silent films would just not work, and I believe it would represent a huge missed opportunity even if the building were bought by a philanthropic billionaire. But the debate will go on, as part of the wider argument about preserving and developing the rest of Hollywood and Los Angeles. It cannot all be preserved in aspic, like some huge museum, any more than London, Paris or New York can. Money will talk: the trick is to make sure it doesn't shout, as it nearly did when Blockbuster wanted to buy the Egyptian in the early 90s.
By the time the theatre tour and accompanying film - an entertaining history called Forever Hollywood - was over it was time for lunch. Musso & Frank beckoned.
This was much more of a tourist visit, no peeks behind the scenes. But it is slowing changing. The famously brusque waiters seemed to have faded away, and there is a long cocktail bar in one of the two rooms. But, despite a vegetable plate on the menu, the food still badly needs updating.
I ordered a salad of lettuce and tomato. And that's exactly what I got: a huge chunk of lettuce, about a quarter of a whole one, with two slices of heritage tomato and a side dish of vinaigrette. A sort of DIY approach, so I set to and it ended up OK, but I expected a little more input from the kitchen to make the salad look more appetising.
And the pasta with mushroom sauce may have been OK in the 1950s but it looked sadly outdated today. The sauce was tomatoey, sweet and almost certainly tinned. The pasta was overcooked and slimy. Next time I'll have a Caesar Salad as a main course, but I'm not sure what I'll get.
So Musso is, it seems to me, relying very much on its reputation as one of Hollywood's fixtures. All very well when it comes to preserving the wood panelling and painted frieze - but not with substandard food.