Cinemas of North Tyneside now available
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PRESS RELEASE from Kate Taylor
Issued : June 2009 01924-372748 kate@airtime.co.uk
North Tyneside’s 35 picture houses recalled in comprehensive history
Well-known local historian writes fourth book on cinemas
Little remains of the thirty-five picture houses that once provided entertainment in North Tyneside. All have closed and many have been demolished. But now cinema historian Frank Manders has recalled them all vividly in Cinemas of North Tyneside, a comprehensive history of the former cinemas in the area of the metropolitan borough.
Cinemas of North Tyneside, which is richly illustrated with archive photographs, drawings and building plans, is published this month (June 2009) by Mercia Cinema Society at £12 95p
Mr Manders’ account look in turn at the cinemas of each town and of the colliery villages, noting their location, the dates of opening, their character, the proprietors and architects, unusual events such as fires or wartime bomb damage, and their dates of closure and subsequent fates. The book includes brief observations by people formerly associated with the industry.
The wealth of detail offers striking contrasts. In 1910 Forest Hall saw the opening of the modest corrugated iron Picture Hall seating 500 people. The magnificent Ritz at Wallsend, opened in 1939 and one of only two ‘super’ cinemas in the area, was architect-designed in the art deco style and held over 1,600 patrons.
Moving pictures first found a place in popular entertainment in 1896. Mr Manders notes that the earliest exhibition in the area was probably that at the Tynemouth Palace in September 1896 at a show put on to raise funds for a new rugby ground. ‘Living pictures’ were shown during a pantomime at the Theatre Royal, North Shields, in February 1987 and scenes of Queen Victoria’s Jubilee were screened there the following October.
Early cinemas were often conversions of existing buildings. Remarkably, former Methodist chapels provided the Royal Picture Hall, Wallsend, the Tyne Picture Hall, North Shields, and the Carlton, Tynemouth. The Pavilion at Whitley Bay was built originally as swimming baths.
However North Tyneside gained an early purpose-built cinema when T F Macdonald opened the picture-house named after himself at Wallsend in March 1909.
Amongst former cinema buildings which survive today, the author notes the splendid 1937 Reno at Wide Open which is now a Co-operative store and the 1939 Lyric at Wallsend, which provides both a supermarket and facilities for High Howdon Social Club. The unfortunate Palace at Shiremoor blew down in a gale in 1911 when only partially built. It was rebuilt and opened in December 1911. In 1949 it was damaged again in an arson attack. Today it is am equine equipment retail warehouse.
In a postscript to the book, Mr Manders gives an account of the Silverlink Odeon multiplex at Wallsend business park, now the only commercial film venue in the borough.
The multiplex was opened in February 1999 by the Geordie TV duo, Ant and Dec. Other national stars associated in some way with local cinemas also find a place in the book: The great film comedian Stan Laurel was the son of Arthur Jefferson, one-time proprietor of the Borough Theatre, North Shields. It was at the Borough that Jimmy Campbell, songwriter whose hits included ‘Show me the way to go home’, and ‘Goodnight, Sweetheart’ began his career.
Author Frank Manders was born in Carlisle but moved to the north east as a student at King’s College, Durham. Shortly after taking his degree in General Studies he embarked on a career in Librarianship, finally being appointed as the Local Studies Librarian at Newcastle in 1980. He is known for his historical accuracy and insight. His first book, A History of Gateshead, was published by Gateshead Corporation in 1972. Mr Manders had gone to the cinema regularly since the age of five but only became interested in the history of picture houses when the Newcastle library acquired a significant collection of photographs of cinemas. He felt, he says, that ‘something should be done about them’. The ‘something’ resulted in his magisterial book, Cinemas of Newcastle, which was published by Newcastle upon Tyne City Libraries and Arts in 1991. He has also written The Cinemas of Gateshead and, with Charles Morris, Essoldo, an account of the theatres and cinemas of the Tyneside entrepreneur Sol Sheckman.
Mercia Cinema Society is a registered charity and was founded in 1980 as a national organization to promote and publish research into the history of picture houses. It publishes a quarterly journal The Mercia Bioscope and has produced more than sixty well-researched books on cinemas in localities across the country.
Cinemas of North Tyneside, ISBN 9 780946 406654, is available from booksellers or by post from Mercia Sales Officer, 23 Thrice Fold, Cote Farm, Thackley, Bradford, BD10 8WW. (Enquiries : sales@merciacinema.org) Cheques for £ 12 95p + £ 1.20p+p (total £ 14.15) should be made payable to Mercia Cinema Society.
ends
Demy, laminated card colour cover, section sewn, prelims + 139pp inc. full index
Frank Manders Telephone 0191 5283068
Illustrations for reviews are available as jpgs from admin@merciacinema.org
ends
Two Coventry reviews
Click on the image below to enlarge it
From the Coventry Evening Telegraph:
Gil Robottom’s history of Coventry cinemas
Jun 5 2009 By Jane Stirland
“GIL ROBOTTOM spent 25 years researching the history of Coventry’s cinemas, but died suddenly before his work could be published.
Determined that his efforts should not be in vain, his grieving widow, Lynne, collected all his material together and approached a publisher.
The result is Coventry Picture Palaces, a beautifully illustrated book charting the rise and fall – and eventual resurrection – of the city’s big screens.
Lynne, who lives in Blandford Drive, Walsgrave, said: “After Gil died, I didn’t want to see all his hard work go to waste, so I gathered everything together and contacted the publishers (Mercia Cinema Society) who brought it up to date.
“When they presented me with a copy of the book at The Herbert gallery, I was so proud. Gil would have been so happy; the book is his dream come true. Cinemas were his passion.”
Gil died unexpectedly in October 2007, three days after going into hospital for a minor operation. He was 64.
His legacy, Coventry Picture Palaces, dedicated to wife Lynne, tells of the growth of the city’s cinemas from the days when moving pictures were first shown in the city in the 1890s through the golden years of the 1930s and ‘40s, when for a time there were as many as 30 picture houses, to their slow decline beginning in the ‘50s with the growth of television.
Gil’s interest in cinema began when, as a boy, he attended the Saturday morning club at Coventry’s Gaumont Palace in Jordan Well.
Lynne said: “Wherever we went on holiday he was always taking pictures of old cinemas; he would seek them out and welcomed any chance to get inside with his camera.”
His working life was spent first in the toolroom at Dunlop and then at Jaguar where he become an instructor in the apprentice department and then went into public relations for the company.
But it was as a cinema historian that he became widely known in the city where he often gave talks and took part in radio broadcasts on the subject.
The book highlights 1911 as the year when the first purpose-built cinemas – no fewer than five of them – were opened in the city.
And it shows the devastating effects of the Second World War when raids on Coventry destroyed three picture houses and damaged several others.
The Rex, the most splendid Coventry super-cinema ever built, complete with organ, restaurant and dance floor, was to have the shortest life of all; it was bombed in August 1940, the night before the eagerly-awaited Gone with the Wind was due to open.
The publication includes references to some of the local men, such as Gus Pell, Charlie Orr and Harold Philpot, who invested in cinemas before the big names like ABC and Odeon came to the city. Noted too are the splendid organs which were installed in all the better venues.
An afterpiece by cinema historian Ian Meyrick brings the book right up to date, with accounts of the area’s two modern multiplexes and the ill-fated attempt to provide a suburban twin-screen operation in the former Rialto-Casino building in Coundon.
The many illustrations include a number from the collection of the late W.G. (Bill) Edkins, one-time projectionist at the Astoria (Albany Road) who took over the Imperial (Earlsdon Street) in 1947 and some from the Coventry Telegraph archives.
Publisher Mervyn Gould, administrator of the Mercia Cinema Society, who designed, edited and indexed Coventry Picture Palaces, said: “Regrettably, the author died before his work was finished and so the book has been published posthumously; we hope the end result is as he would have wanted it and that it will be a lasting memorial.”
The paperback publication, priced at £14.95, is available now from The Herbert art gallery and museum in Jordan Well, from bookshops or, post-free, from the address below:
HOW TO ORDER
Orders to the sales Officer:
Martin Hall, 23 Thrice Fold, Cote Farm, Thackley, BRADFORD BD10 8WW
Cheques payable to the Mercia Cinema Society
Tel: 01274 583251
e-mail: sales@merciacinema.org
(Please note that only the Sales Officer knows the current availability of items in stock. Please enquire about availability from him – other officers will have no idea what is left).
Mercia Cinema Society is a registered charity, founded in 1990 to promote and publish research into the history of picture palaces.”
2008 Mercia AGM Minutes now online
MERCIA CINEMA SOCIETY
MINUTES of the ANNUAL GENERAL MEETING 2008
held at the Tyneside Film Theatre Newcastle-on-Tyne Saturday 13 December at 1.45
1 Chairman’s welcome : Miss Taylor welcomed all present, and as there were members who were attending for the first time, introduced herself and those members of the committee present. She then checked the quorum.
2 Quorum & Proxies present, Derek Atkins, Dave Biscombe, Mervyn Gould, Ian Grey, Ian Houseman, Frank Manders, John Prickett, George Reywer, Harry Rigby (CTA Bulletin editor-observer), Colin Sanders, David Simpson, Kate Taylor, Nick Taylor (12 members); proxies, Patrick Butler, Jack de Coninck, Victor A. Edwards, D. J. Gammage, John R. Hunt, Ian Meyrick, Philip J. Roberts, Peter Sagar, John G. Slater, Paul Smith, Frank D. Snart, D. T. Swaffer, Neville C. Taylor, H. V. Vahey, Ian Van Ryne, Victor Welland, David R. Williams (17) – more than the required 10% of membership.
2a Sanction for present meeting : The chairman obtained the permission of the meeting to sanction this present meeting, as by constitution we had to hold the meeting in the first week of December, but could not get in here then.
3 Reading/adoption of minutes of 2007 meeting : The minutes were printed on the agenda sheet. Their adoption was proposed by Derek Atkins, seconded by Ian Grey, and they adopted nem. con.
4 Matters arising from 2007 minutes : There were none.
5 Reports : Chairman’s review of the year : see end The meeting accepted this on the proposal of Ian Houseman, seconded by Derek Atkins.
Membership : Colin Smith reported that we had 205 members at present. During the year, we had gained 23 new members, but lost 16, sadly, some through death.
Sales : Stuart Smith – read in his absence by the chairman : 366 copies of Mercia titles sold : double-digit sales were Barnsley 87, Basingstoke 163, Durham 22, Medway 44, Swale 15, and York 11. 14 other titles were sold in single digits. Together with other publisher’s titles (342), total 708 copies / 146 invoices issued.
Treasurer : The audited report was before members. We are solvent, and have a good balance with the Charities Official Investment Fund account (COIF). The printing & postage totals were up with two books published and sent out. We are very grateful for donations received with membership renewals from no fewer than 32 members. Gift Aid is yet to be claimed for the year, but clarification had now been received, and we would claim for it. No charge for the web-site this year, so next year will register as double, for the two years. The meeting agreed to write off the former old and out of date sales computer. Ian Houseman could not report on condition, but there is no book value for it : this write-off was agreed.
Editor : Paul Smith reported through the chairman that he would be taking a sabbatical until September to write up his M. Phil. He thanked the committee for their support. ‘The year has seen varied, and I think, interesting copies of the Bioscope. We have had to rely on members of the committee for articles. Once again we have had to withdraw an article when prepared for publication, due to it having appeared elsewhere. Presentation of the Bioscope is now of a very high quality and continues to benefit from the adminstrator’s unstinting efforts.’
Administrator’s report : see end Comments : David Simpson expressed his gratitude to the editor and administrator for his wife Diane’s Bioscope obituary.
6 Elections: Chairman: The vice-chairman took the chair, asking if there were any nomations for the post of chairman: there being none, he proposed Kate Taylor to the assembly. She was unanimously re-elected and resumed the chair.
Officers The chairman asked if there were any nominations. On receiving none, she proposed the following (en bloc) : Mercia Bioscope Editor: Paul Smith, Administrator: Mervyn Gould, Treasurer: Ian Grey Web-master: Ian Grey Membership Secretary & Vice-Chairman: Colin Sanders, Public Relations: Vacant, Sales: Vacant. There were no offers for the vacant posts, and the existing officers were unanimously re-elected.
Committee (en bloc) : Derek Atkins, Ian Houseman, Frank Manders, Ian Meyrick, Christopher Stacey, Frank Wright. No proposals were received to add to the members, so the above were re-elected. (Note: the day after the meeting the chairman was informed that Frank Wright had died.)
Honorary Independent Reporting Accountant : Philip M. Hollins, M.A. (Cantab.), F.C.A. The chairman said how grateful we were for his work and we would ask him to continue.
7 Constitution – all committee members to be of Trustee status – Charity Commission requirement
- alteration of AGM to any December day / date - Administrator
After explanations, it was decided to take no action on either of these points.
8 Publication plans: Coventry is at the printer, and Frank Manders is about to deliver North Tyneside. Huddersfield: Paul Smith reported via the chairman ‘Progress is slow due in large part to my being unable to devote enough time to move the project on at a quicker rate; this is unlikely to alter until after September 2009 when the first year of the writing-up period for the M.Phil. comes to an end. I am hoping to finish it at this time and avoid having to enter the second year of the writing up period. I will of course keep Kate and Mervyn aware of the position.’
9 Publicity / web-site : We have now an e-mail order address, and are hoping to set up a web-shop. Perhaps a charity account with e-bay. One or two members have asked for leaflets to give out at gatherings, and we have supplied them with these and supplementary copies of the Bioscope. We have no specific knowledge of extra members recruited by this means, though.
10 Any Other Business (only by permission of the Chairman) : A member brought up the restoration of the Plaza Stockport, and asked if we should hold an AGM there. The chairmen replied we had indeed had an AGM there, and the administrator added that we hadn’t printed anything about it as they had not sent any information or press release.
11 Close : The chairman closed the meeting at 2.45, thanking Frank Manders for the arrangements: members then viewed the Classic auditorium.
Chairman’s Review of progress during the year The year has again been one of steady achievement. We have gained sufficient new members to balance the loss of others. The Bioscope has been issued each quarter with its customary promptness and with material from new, as well as quite regular, contributors. It has been well illustrated with photographs etc from a range of sources, not least from the accumulating archive of our own administrator, Mervyn Gould. We remain grateful to editor Paul Smith (who has himself contributed some very useful research studies of cinemas in towns in the Calder valley) and to Mervyn.
We have published two new books. Mervyn Gould’s substantial Basingstoke Entertained was published in December 2007, has been warmly reviewed and is selling well. Kate Taylor’s more modest Barnsley Cinemas came out in time to be issued to members as a freebie with the May 2008 Bioscope and is also being sold at outlets in Barnsley and Penistone. At the time of our March committee meeting in Birmingham, we were able to meet Chris Clegg, one of the founders of the Society, who passed on to us the manuscript of the late Gil Robottom on Coventry’s cinemas. Since then Mervyn and new member Ian Meyrick have given many hours to extending the research and the book is ready for sending to the printer. Other manuscripts are in preparation.
Our web site has continued to be updated frequently by Ian Grey and is a vehicle for sales as well as for the recruitment of new members. Colin Sanders has worked steadily on building up his archive of accounts of cinemas across Britain and has proved a useful source of information–at least for myself–in my work for the quarterly journal Screentrade.
We have been very pleased to welcome Ian Meyrick, author of the Tempus publication Oxfordshire Cinemas, onto the committee as well as Ian Houseman, who gave valuable assistance at all our former conferences. We were greatly saddened to learn of the death earlier in 2008 of our former treasurer, Anthony B Phillips, who had been a most dedicated officer and a loyal member. We have lost contact with our former publicity officer, Derek Atkins, who remains a committee member but who was, when we last had news of him, very ill.
The year has ended on a sad note with the resignation, after seventeen years of highly efficient service, of our Sales Officer, Stuart Smith. Stuart has dealt not only with the sales of our own considerable range of books but also with Brian Hornsey’s Fuchsiaprint publications which remain a very useful source of income for ourselves. Brian continues to produce new work with amazing frequency and most generously gives all his work to us. The sale of 333 items of his during the past year indicates something of the value of this contribution.
We can report that our finances remain in a very sound state and are very well looked after by our treasurer, Ian Grey. We have continued to deal with requests for information from students and from the media and some of us remain in demand for talks. Digital projection equipment and the Powerpoint program have meant that these can now be easily and well illustrated.
Our experienced team of officers has remained dedicated to furthering the interests of the Society, giving much of their time. They have met as a committee once, in March, in Birmingham and members have remained in contact regularly otherwise by telephone, letter and e-mail. We are most grateful to them. And we are grateful, too, to Philip Hollins for again examining our accounts.
Kate Taylor for, and on behalf of the Committee, December 2008
Administrator’s report A duck, perhaps, not a graceful as a swan, illustrates our year. As the chairman reports, we have published four Bioscopes, a booklet, and a small book. Our membership climbs slowly: books continue to sell. A calm glide on top of the water: but, underneath, the webbed feet are paddling madly. Coventry is at the printer; the web-site has been revised and enlarged; Frank Manders’ North Tyneside will soon be with us; Huddersfield is in creation; sales promotion through web-site e-mail and other plans are afoot; we have a re-invigorated committee; there are further book possibilities, such as Halifax; and still my own books to research, write, and launch on a (mainly) ungrateful world. And I’ve probably forgotten a few more things.
I value highly our links with other organisations and people. We get any illustrations we need from Clive Polden and the CTA archive, Harry Rigby will send his photos by return (and, in the case of Coventry, a memoir to go with them) Allen Eyles always gives a friendly hand in need, Richard Norman forwards requests from the Tony Moss collection, and Jeremy Buck and the CTA shop is our best regular customer. The PPT is supportive, and Steve Baker of Rewind advertises us and reviews our publications.
We can be proud, I think, of the quality of our output – it looks good and reads well! Paul has increased the coverage of the Bioscope enormously, and we hope readers appreciate the range. For getting the Bioscope files to the printer, and then the Bioscopes to the post, time and time again either Ian Houseman or Terry Simmons takes me and the carrier-bag-fulls to the post office. Between them, they save the society many pounds a year in ferrying me instead of paying taxi fares. Q3 of Loughborough does all our work, and we thank them for their friendliness and the quality of work that they produce on our behalf. In addition, Ian Housemen has fetched two collections from Coventry for me, and transferred the Mercia sales stock from Sheffield to secure temporary storage. And, of course, his work is evident to all in the covers of Barnsley (which got a special appreciation in the PPT’s Rewind notice) and Coventry.
Membership rises, oh so slowly, but rises. Our finances are sound. But, and a huge But, in spite of the hard work of officers, we have two vital vacancies – sales and press. We don’t need more money, more members would be nice, but we can run as we are, however, the twin spires of publicity and promotion and sales of our products must be addressed. There is no longer any fat in the organisation (though the administrator and treasurer still tend to block the sunlight at meetings) – one more of us goes down and we’re out. Please, please, please, one or two of you – come over into Macedonia and help us!
I am delighted to thank all my officer colleagues for the work that they do, and the committee members for their support. I enjoyed working with Ian Meyrick on fleshing out Coventry, and am awed by the work Ian Grey does for us in a busy life in the matters of web-site and finance. I look forward to working with Frank Manders and Ian Houseman on North Tyneside. And talking of a busy life, we are, as always, fortunate and grateful that our chairman finds time for us in hers.
Mervyn Gould
June Gallery- Cinema in Braintree
from Mercia Bioscope no. 94 February 2005
CINEMA IN BRAINTREE
Richard Cooper
When I first came to live in the Essex town of Braintree, it was a relatively small community that boasted little more than a quaint High Street with a couple of supermarkets, a number of pubs and a twice-weekly market. Already struggling for survival by the early 1980s was the one remaining cinema, the Embassy, which was, at this time, splitting the weekly programme by showing films for four nights of the week and bingo for the remaining three.
Now, more than twenty years later, ideally situated with easy access to London-Stanstead airport, Braintree has extended its boundaries and become a place to visit rather than just pass through. The town centre remains relatively unchanged, but the developments on the outskirts of the town include a designer shopping village, a bowling alley, nightclubs, restaurants and a twelve-screen Cineworld.
My first experience of the Embassy, as a visitor to Braintree in the late sixties, was to see a revival double-bill of The Wizard of Oz and Tom Thumb. Being a holiday attraction, almost all of the 1005 seats were taken (333 of these were circle seats) and the theatre was buzzing with usherettes with ice creams being sold from trays and a family atmosphere rarely experienced in this new century. The Embassy had been a successful place of entertainment since opening in April 1933, where it was built on the site previously occupied by the Palace.
The Palace, owned by Cyril Getliffe, opened in 1912 featuring films and stage productions. It was extended in the early 1920s under a change of ownership to Tozer & Linsell to counter opposition from the new Central. There was a café. Shipman & King took control of the theatre in 1929, and they or earlier owners had installed a Picturetone sound system. By 1935 the Palace had been demolished and replaced by the Embassy.
About 200 yards along the High Street, the Central Picture House was also functioning as a cinema/variety theatre. It opened in the early 1920s with stalls and balcony offering a total seating capacity of 685, and a stage with dressing rooms, and boasted a ‘café lounge’. By the late 1920s it, too, had come under the control of Shipman & King. They installed Western Electric sound. Later they shortened the name to the Central Cinema.
Purchase of these two cinemas brought the fledgling circuit up to 10 halls. Prices under S & K after sound were 5d. to 1/10d at the Central, and 4d. to 1/3d. at the Palace.
The Central continued to show films until about 1957, when it closed, and the building was reopened as a retail store. This is still the case in 2004 with the frontage above the shop fascia remaining unchanged (see right).
The Embassy was designed by Kemp & Tasker, and opened in April 1935. It was the circuit’s first new cinema, and their first called Embassy. Seating 1,005, it had a café, stage facilities, dressing rooms, and a 3c/6 Christie organ with illuminated console on a lift, opened by Thomas W. Grosch. The architect stated later that ‘the client was responsible for the somewhat unusual type of decoration.’
CinemaScope was fitted in the middle 50s, and dressing rooms are no longer listed, so it may be stage shows finished after the new screen was installed. It continued to flourish under Shipman & King throughout the sixties and into the seventies. During these years the theatre showed new releases about one month after their London general release. Films that went on general release after a West End run would invariably reach Chelmsford, which is closer to London, after two weeks and then Braintree and Maldon (where another Embassy, also under Shipman & King, was providing a similar programme) one or two weeks later. The main feature would run for six days with a change of programme for Sundays. This was usually a restricted release film or occasionally an ‘adult’ feature. Sometimes the week was split into three, with general releases shown for three days each, as well as a Sunday special.
By 1972 the Embassy, no longer under Shipman & King, had been renamed Studio One – along with the Embassy at Maldon. It was at this time that the stalls seats were removed to accommodate the split weekly programmes of films and bingo, and the organ went to a private collector. This proved relatively successful throughout the remainder of the seventies, although the new name did not last and it reverted to its former name. The Embassy lettering at the top of the building had never been removed; the Studio One name was only in place above the main doors.
Into the eighties difficulties arose when fewer people used the Embassy, which was then under the control of the Coral group. Full-time bingo did not provide the answer and ultimately ceased. Over in Maldon the other Embassy closed in 1982 and was demolished in 1985. In Braintree, the Embassy closed from time to time during the late eighties and early nineties with different proprietors trying various ways of keeping the theatre open. It was never twinned, but the stalls seating was never replaced, and films were shown to the circle seats. The stalls was occasionally used as a disco and even as an indoor market, Braintree Lanes, though this curious and rather disgusting idea – the cinema smelt of burgers and onions – failed after a few months. Films continued until 1993 when the tabs closed for the last time. My last visit to the cinema, like the first, was to see a reissue of a family feature; this time Disney’s The Jungle Book.
The fate of the building was in jeopardy until it reopened as a Wetherspoon’s pub in 1997. Once again, the Embassy is a thriving concern, with many original features still apparent. The name remains at the top of the frontage and the circle seating is untouched. The bar stands in front of the screen, which occasionally shows (in a reduced size format) special TV events such as Euro 2004. Members of staff have been spotted sitting in the circle to view these, although the area remains closed to the public. The art deco designs on either side of the proscenium have been restored, and are complimented by a specially-created carpet featuring the same design. The dividing wall between the foyer and the stalls has been removed to make an open plan bar area. Not perfect: at least the Embassy has not suffered the same fate as many contemporaries and disappeared altogether.
In November 2002 cinema returned in the shape of the 12-screen Cineworld. Business was good from the start and remains so. We in Braintree can consider ourselves fortunate that we have 12 screens to view the latest releases, and ageing enthusiasts like me can have a pint at the Embassy on the way home and reflect on days gone by.
1 Central Cinema
2 Embassy still as cinema in 1987.
3 Embassy ante-proscenium plenum grille today (former stage on right).
4 The former Embassy as Wetherspoon’s today.
5 The 12-screen Cine-World.
All the photographs in this article are by the author.
Coventry review
REVIEWS
Coventry Picture Palaces Gil Robottom
Coventry : the City where Cupid rubs shoulders with Godiva
As a country boy (by persuasion, anyway), I am always staggered by the number of cinemas that were busy in cities during the heyday of film-going. In the case of Coventry, the tally is over 30, some of which had several names, as the managements changed. Of course, where you have such a number of cinemas, you have a rich variety of independents and the names of Bill Edkins, Charlie Orr, Gus Pell and H T L Philpot, to name a few, feature throughout the pages of this very comprehensive book.
The accessibility of the detailed information is exemplary. There is an elaborate index where Architects, Builders, Circuits, Companies, Decorators, Organs, Projectors and Sound Systems all merit sub-headings. The Organs themselves rate a chapter in the book and it was good to see that the Mustel instrument at the Grand is defined as a reed organ, as opposed to the serried ranks of pipe organs that otherwise kept Coventry harmonised. In fact the Mustel was probably that superior sub-species of reed organ known as an Art Harmonium. The Forum’s 1934 Conacher 3(coupler) / 8 rank organ is illustrated - looking uncannily like the Compton-made Drury Lane 1950 Strand Electric 216-circuit Light Console.
The history of first openings and last shows is dealt with first, not forgetting the emergence and disintegration of various local chains of cinemas and the personalities that forged them. Then the cinemas themselves and their landmark years are listed chronologically. The longest entry refers to the 1939 to 1945 war years, when four cinemas and a theatre were lost to enemy action. After a page that lists the buildings remaining in November 2008, we have a page giving every cinema (with all its names), its years in use and the page of its main entry in the book.
The detail in the text from here on is prodigious. We have first-hand information from ex-cinema workers and from letters and financial records of the managements. A picture is built up of how complex the entertainment scene was in Coventry and how the launch of a new cinema led to some older houses closing. The only possible omission and one that would be so difficult to execute, due to the war damage and the subsequent re-build of the city, is a map showing where the cinemas were in the conurbation.
Gil Robottom uses the research documentation to get beyond the factual to a point where you can sense what seeing a film in each cinema was like and how you, the audience, would be treated. He is at his best when he uses his vast knowledge to interpret the merits of the various houses, as in his evaluation of the super-cinemas and the merits of the later tripling or rebuild.
This book is generously illustrated, with some early floor plans as well as the more usual 1930s opening souvenir book sketches and elevations. There are contrasting advert blocks from 1938 and 1952, as well as a lively set of colour promotion items on the back face. I particularly liked the exterior photos of the Redesdale and the Regal, both taken at night, after rain.
The Coventry cinema scene has been brought up to date by Ian Meyrick, who takes the story into the multiplex era. No amount of darkness, rain, and soft-focus, could make these latter-day sheds look alluring but it is good to read that there are still 24 screens, albeit in just three venues.
Sadly, Gil Robottom died in October 2007. This very readable account of Coventry’s cinemas will be a great way to remember him. He leaves a cornucopia of cinematic delights for you to dip in to. If, like me, you don’t know the City, by reading Coventry Picture Palaces you will find yourself in the two-and-nines and that lovely colour-flooded festooning is just about to lift for the main feature…
James Laws
Mercia Cinema Society, 2009, £12.50 members. Demy, section-sewn, laminated card colour covers. ISBN-13: 978-0-946406-64-7. Mercia Sales: Martin Hall, 23 Thrice Fold, Cote Farm, Thackley, Bradford BD10 8WW 01274 583251 sales@merciacinema.org
May Gallery- Leicester/Lincoln memories
Leicester / Lincoln memories, reproduced from Bioscope 85, November 2002.
IN RETROSPECT
Notes by the late George Clark
The following article is the first in a series by George Clark, who was an active cinema historian and enthusiast until his death in December 2001. These were published by the Society in his book The Cinemas o Lincolnshire. As this is now out of print, his long-standing friend Brian Hornsey considered they were worth a larger audience.
I suppose I must blame my father for my interest in cinemas, since as early as 1930 I enjoyed visits to the local cinema whenever funds became available. A surprise Christmas present in the form of a toy projector and a few lengths of 35mm film furthered my interest. In those days acetate film could be bought in many shops and a length of cartoon film in a tin could be bought for around 1/- .
Various model projectors came my way over the years including a Pathé France clockwork driven machine which when fully wound drove a 33 ft cassette of 9.5mm film. Illuminated by a 4½ volt battery it gave a small but clear picture helped by the vertical cut off shutter, a refinement sadly lacking in most toy projectors. This machine would of course have been a collector’s item today.
After leaving school my interest in all things electrical continued and over a two-year period I studied at evening classes, resulting in the appropriate qualifications being gained and an offer to continue at Leicester College. However the desire to earn a living overcame the desire to learn and I started working for Alfred Mynard’s Imperial Sound. The job was not quite what was expected, but it was interesting to see a new sound system being developed in the lab. and experiencing the testing of an air-raid siren, which nearly deafened the entire workforce when it was tested in the work’s car park. The siren was eventually situated on the top of Lewis’ department-store tower in 1939: it could be heard miles away.
My interest in all things cinema continued and I watched as the Savoy Cinema in Belgrave Gate was built by ABC, and I was one of its first patrons when it opened on the 27th June 1937. The Knighton Cinema had opened near my home in 1936 and a nice cinema it was, well looked after and a pleasure to visit. When the Odeon came along crowds surged to see this new addition but for me the Savoy remained my local, albeit being over two miles away.
On a visit to Lincoln in 1938, a chance meeting with a former operator suggested I pay a visit to the Central Cinema, which was in need of staff. A word with the manager Mr. Pratt brought forth an offer which I was pleased to accept, as I was not by this time happy, ‘pushing a pen’. I well remember my first day carrying thirteen reels of film up to the rewind room, and being shown by the Chief how to remake a faulty join in a satisfactory manner, using his method of ‘blooping’ the sound track to avoid clicks in the speakers. I was both excited and very nervous running my first reel, as in the cinema business one mistake is seen by hundreds of people. The Strong arcs in use had to be constantly checked as they had a habit of parting very quickly and the light could go out. The Gaumont machines at the Central sat on Western Electric Universal bases, which in order to get them up to speed had to be hand turned before switching on the supply, otherwise one could miss a changeover.
By 1939 staff began to be disappear into the forces or oblivion, as many did to avoid call up. This often meant extra work for the remaining staff. 1940 came and so did my call to join the ranks, and after the usual period of square bashing I was posted to the Royal Corps of Signals as a Radio/Electrician.
During overseas service many calls were made for assistance from the Mobile Cinema personnel who seemed to know surprisingly little about the equipment they used. In Italy on one occasion I was asked to help a unit giving an outside show from the back of the cinema truck, projecting a film onto a screen lashed to the side of a lorry. The film, a Betty Grable movie, was being enthusiastically received by the audience who were loudly showing their appreciation of the star’s numerous talents, when an almighty bang disintegrated the lorry carrying the screen, the film continued to run and so did the audience! I never did finish the repair of that projector.
Whilst on loan to ENSA I assisted in the re-fitting of cinemas in the Naples area. One such cinema in the village of Baiano had been damaged by enemy action; I was told that I had three weeks to opening. After checking the damage, (which included speakers without cones, no tabs, lights, or carbons) the main structure was quickly patched up. An army of volunteers then set about painting and cleaning the seating and floors etc. Meanwhile, turning to the Cinemeccanica projector of vintage years, it was found to be repairable, but the water-cooled condenser system needed a good clean and polish plus a supply of running water. New continental spools had to be found, together with suitable carbons for the arc. Armed with a supply of compulsory purchase orders we set off to scour the area around Naples. After a tiring three days we had everything we needed. Working into the night we managed to rewire where required and even put up tabs and fitted new speakers into position. After stripping and cleaning the projector we began testing and miraculously everything worked. We changed the Italian name to the Radion and it was opened by a posse of VIPs who declared it the best show this side of home!
The end of the war found me in Graz, Austria, where I was voted onto the camp entertainment committee. I was asked to plan the building of a camp cinema/theatre/dance hall. A large barn like building was put at our disposal and we prepared plans for the conversion and were given the go ahead.
We were assisted with the help of German POWs who did an excellent job in carrying out duties they were instructed to do. We completed the stage, PA sound, projection room, subdued lighting and air conditioning. Two weeks after opening I was demobbed and on my way home.
After returning home I formed a Mobile Cinema Unit with a relative. We used two GB L516 projectors and an 8ft x 6ft screen with a non-sync. unit. Venues ranged from church and village halls to private parties. Things went quite well for a time until the winter of 1947, which nearly put us out of business. Bad weather and electricity cuts meant poor audiences and on one occasion power failed part way through a show, meaning we had to return the admission prices. Other factors such as tax and the high cost of film hire (we always used the best available to us such as MGM) saw profits eaten up so we reluctantly sold up in the early summer-time.
left The Knighton Cinema, Leicester & right the Leicester Odeon at opening
(Pictures from the Brian Hornsey Collection)
left The Central Cinema & right the Regal / Picture House, both in Lincoln
After a spell at the Lincoln Ritz, marred somewhat by staffing problems, a job at the Radion (Lincoln) came available, which I readily accepted hoping it would be a more stable position. The Radion was the last Lincoln cinema constructed before the war; built on the stadium principal with all 850 seats on one sloping floor, opening on March 27th 1939 with Barry K. Barnes and Valerie Hobson in This Man is News and Gracie Fields in We’re Going to be Rich. The original equipment was Kalee 8 projectors and arcs, with RCA sound and a Kalux Super Matt screen. The interior was painted a warm apricot colour speckled with gold; the doors throughout were painted peppermint green.
After the war and requisition by the army, the cinema reopened under the ownership of the Emery Circuit of Fylde, Blackpool. Much work was needed to re-establish the building as a cinema: seating capacity was reduced, making it the best spacing of any cinema in the town. In the false roof was the remains of the neon lighting, which after test was found to be mostly working. The lighting pieces were regassed and sealed with the whole being fixed to the exterior where it was to remain in use until the building closed as a cinema. It reopened on 4th August 1947 with R. G. Ascot as manager.
When I first saw the machines in the box, my heart sank, how could such a new cinema use such antiquated equipment? Apparently it was a stop-gap until the new Westrex equipment was available. Nevertheless, the Kalee machines did an excellent job, which with the Mirrophonic sound system gave us very little trouble. Then unexpectedly crates began to arrive and the Westrex equipment was on its way.
With valiant work in preparation for the changeover by Syd Donaldson, our local engineer, wires were pulled through conduits, switches fitted, crates unpacked and projectors assembled, new arcs fitted to the bases: all was ready for the change.
As the last reel was being shown the other machine was being dismantled and placed in crates, as the final reel ended the other machine suffered the same fate, together with all the surplus wiring. Slowly the new machines were nudged into place, wired and checked. By mid morning everything was in position, all systems checked and in working order. All that remained was to run a sound check, balance the readings between each machine, run the test film several times to check for sound levels in the theatre and all was ready.
Home for a quick wash and brush up, a spot of lunch and back at the cinema by 2.30 for a continuous run until 9.30pm. Then home to bed, the first sleep since Friday night and more than welcome. No wonder someone said, “There is little social existence outside the cinema.”
In my time at the Radion I saw three changes of management. The operating staff settled down to myself, Brian Hornsey and a chap called Derek. Though many films were second run, our patrons were prepared to wait as they preferred to watch the films in the comfort of the Radion. During 1959 I heard on the grapevine the long expected news that the cinema would be closing in the New Year. Brian and I started to look at other options: he moved to Stamford and managed a local photographic shop, helping keep the Radion running until a replacement could be found, and then temporary staff kept the place going until July 16th 1960 when I returned to show the last reel of the Danny Kaye film, The Five Pennies. The end of an era.
After closure the Radion served for a short time as a supermarket, followed by a spell as a branch of a dry cleaning firm, until it was taken over by the BBC in 1980 as a base for Radio Lincolnshire.
The late George Clarke in typical pose at Bourneville in the 50s. From a colour slide by Brian Hornsey.
Bioscope 111 in the Post
Bioscope 111 contents: Present Indicative & Future Perfect / Whitehaven / Birmingham area venues - 3 / Reviews – Coventry {Picture Palaces and Frank Matcham & Co / Reel Enthusiasm – 5 / Letters / Stanley Rogers / Teddy Hinge circuit / Notes & Queries
April Gallery- Lincolnshire mobile showman
RECOLLECTIONS OF A Lincolnshire MOBILE SHOWMAN
Extracts from a taped interview with Fredrick Norris
The following article appeared in the Mercia Bioscope no. 86, February 2003, and wais the third reprint from George Clark’s The Cinemas of Lincolnshire published by the Society in 1994. As this is now out of print, his long-standing friend Brian Hornsey considered they were worth a larger audience. The second was in the previous issue, while the first, with Syd Donaldson as an early cinema sound specialist, was in Nov 98 issue 69 p.6
Around 1910, as a young lad in his early teens, Fred took an intense interest in the new-fangled Bioscope that had appeared at the local fairground. He toured any local venue where such a show appeared and pestered the owner of the equipment for information of ‘the works’. About this time shows began to appear at Lincoln’s Monks Road Hall, where the ‘Happy Hour’ was being held. This was a show based on an ‘in-out’ basis, each lasting an hour, at the rate of three per night. Gleaning some information from these early offerings, he went on to the Theatre Royal, where he got a job helping the stage hands on the lighting, and often operating a spotlight from the ‘gods’.
The treasurer of the residential concert party was W. Gadsby, and when they went into liquidation, he managed to raise the money to pay off the outstanding debts, and bought the Central Hall, which he turned into a cinema.
Fred, in the mean-time, had obtained a job at the newly-opened Picture House in Lincoln’s High Street, operating a No 6 Powergraph projector. On the first show, No.1 machine failed to operate, and Fred on No.2 started up with the film on his machine, which was a single reeler called Two Brothers, and Mary Pickford was in the cast as an extra. Working from 1pm to 10pm for six days earned Fred 15/- per week. The Chief Projectionist earned 25/-, and the future Mrs. Norris in the cash box earned 9/9d.
The Theatre Royal in the meantime had been leased to Messrs Payne & Seddon, who presented regular Music Shows at 7.15 pm every night except Saturday, when Mystery plays were a regular feature, on a twice-nightly basis. Business was poor, and other attractions were being considered.
The talk of London at that time was a show of Kinemacolor. This was a system of projecting a black & white film at twice the normal silent speed, using the cut-off shutter to apply the colour to each frame as it passed through the gate. Each segment of the shutter of which there was two, one of which was orange/red and the other b1ue-green. The correct filter had to be before the correct frame in the gate, as an incorrect frame in the gate produced brown grass and green skies! Moving images across the screen left a rainbow trail.
The Theatre at this time did not have an operating box, so in order to show this system, they knocked a hole in the rear wall, at the Kings Arms yard end, and put a tin box there. The film to be shown was The Construction of the Panama Canal, which ran for two weeks. When the film broke, as it often did, as moving at 32 frames per second, which is faster than the sound films run today, the film shot through the port hole and into the auditorium. Not an outstanding success, and it was replaced by the theatre’s own projector. This was to show a 30-minute film in subdued lighting whilst the audience found their seats for the Musical Show.
When the summer season started, the Royal became a full-time cinema for a trial period of three months. Next to the Royal, on the corner was a tailor’s shop, and behind the shop where the gents toilet is today, was an undertaker, which had to be walked through in order to get to the ’spots’ and replace the carbons! This was usually done on a Sunday morning. In the photograph of the Royal of the staff members, sits a little chap, that is Fred, and was taken on May 5th 1913. The lessees are also in the picture.
By 1914 Fred had acquired a second-hand projector and accessories, and was planning to go into business as a mobile showman, as the ‘Empire Picture Co’. Having had posters printed by local printer Hedley Slack he set about distributing them in the Coningsby area. These advertised a show at the Temperance Hall. Spotting a convenient telegraph pole at the junction of Railway St. and the road to Tattershall, he proudly and prominently displayed his poster.
On the day, he hired a horse & cart to transport everything, including the heavy gas cylinders of oxygen & hydrogen used in providing a light for his projectors. All set to show, when the village constable appeared, and after a longish chat, and the parting of five passes for his family to see the night show, the constable told him the sad news. He was obliged to take out a summons for sticking a poster on a telegraph post! Taken before the magistrates in Horncastle, he was fined 7/6d. Whilst he was there he put in an application for a licence, which was granted on the spot.
Lincoln’s Theatre Royal staff in May 1913 – the young Fred Norris centre front.
At another venue in Bardney, the Unionist Hall, now part of the canning factory, was almost a disaster, for having prepared everything in readiness for the show, a matinée for children, very nearly didn’t see the screen, as the roof was made of glass! Fred however, not to be outdone, did a few conjuring tricks, told a few jokes, end generally entertained the kids until it was dusk enough to show the films.
Another show at Coningsby, after plenty of billing in the area, a full house waited for the show to begin. Some had travelled some distance: people from Dogdyke and New York arrived by pony & trap to see this new entertainment. At that time, Fred’s gas cylinders were supplied by Penny & Porters from their premises at the corner of Broadgate and Rhumbold Street, where the telephone exchange stands today. Unfortunately for Fred, they had given him an empty cylinder. Unable to provide light for his machine, he had to apologise and make refund for the tickets sold. There was nearly a riot and poor Fred was chased out of the hall, never to return.
Hiring a horse and cart and now joined by another enthusiast, they loaded up the cart and set off for Sturton-by-Stow. Billed in advance, the show was for Boxing Day. Arriving around midday, they stabled the horse at the local pub, and arranged for tea for after the matinée. They set about getting ready for the show, his assistant set up the ancient gramophone behind the screen, to play music for the films being shown. Time to open, and not a single person to be seen, the village appeared empty! Back at the pub, the old lady told them they had picked the wrong day, “as there’s a do on at the church, and another in the chapel”. Returning to the hall to pack up, and feeling very despondent, in total darkness he stumbled into someone who asked him where he thought he was going, Fred said to the hall, back came the reply, ‘then get in the ruddy queue’. Half the village was waiting for the doors to open.
After a successful show, and around 10-0pm, they started the journey home. Then it rained, soaking wet amid the deluge, the lights on the cart extinguished by the wind, they plodded on to the Saxilby turnoff and on toward the racecourse where they managed to relight the candles in the coach lights before being seen by a local ‘bobby’. They arrived at the Stonebow in Lincoln at 12.20 am. All for £3 10s, the nights takings.
Fred was also a member of the Lincoln Amateur Dramatic Society, and later its treasurer. His wife also a member played the lead in several productions; one such show, Dorothy, was presented at the Central Hall. Recalling those early cinema days at the Central when the Temperance Society presented silent films twice nightly at 6pm and 8pm, at prices of 2d 4d & 6d with a matinée on Saturday afternoons, when a stick of nougat was offered as a bribe to the kids to tell their parents about the wonderful show, and sometimes an orange as an extra on the way out, brought a smile and a laugh from him as Fred enjoyed so much recounting those far-off days.
His interest in the cinema never waned, and in 1936 he ran a very successful 9.5mm. Pathé film library, mainly comedies of the Charlie Chaplin type. Which brings me to the place where I first met him, as I asked to borrow my first film, price 9d for the weekend.
In 1946/7 I renewed my own interest in the cinema, with a Mobile 16mm sound Cinema Unit, covering many villages in the region, even through the extreme weather of the winter of ‘47. I can vouch for Fred’s remarks of “You earn every penny.”
Sadly Fred died a few months after this 5th October 1971 interview at his home in South Park, Lincoln. He was a really splendid character in the early showbiz scene.
Bardney Village Hall set up for a show in 1947 for George Clark’s mobile unit.
We apologize for the poor quality of these illustrations, but The Cinemas of Lincolnshire was published in our former ‘cheap & cheerful’ format – i.e. expensive photo-copying and poor quality. This policy has long been abandoned by the society.
To set the date, the Central Hall became cinema c.1914, and the Picture House opened on 15 Jan 15. (M.S-G.)
New Committee Officers
After our recent Committee meeting in Birmingham, we now have our two unfilled committee posts with people willing to be co-opted into the roles.
Our new Sales Officer is Martin Hall who is busily working with our administrator for a seamless handover of the stock and process.
Our new press & public relations officer is two for the price of one- Johnnie Cliff & Gerry Glover. They can be contacted via publicity@merciacinema.org
March gallery- Lincoln
From the Mercia Bioscope no 98 – February 2006
A LINCOLN REWIND BOY
Frank Cossey
In 1937, at the age of 14, I started as a rewind boy at the Central Cinema Lincoln, on 8 shillings a week for 6 (full) days a week. This may seem low, but Grammar School boys with School Certificates were being set-on by one local department store at nothing a week, and then kept on if they were any good, after a year’s trial. You know what happened! Another timber store, whose owner was a Grammar School governor, employed them at 5 shillings a week: and he took off tenpence for their National Insurance stamp, whereas my 8 shillings was clear of the stamp.
The cinemas run by the same firm (the Segelman brothers – J.O.G.S. Cinemas), differed a lot in their operating staff. The Central was run by Ollie Carbutt as chief, with a settled staff. The Exchange had George Everitt in charge about that time. The Ritz had Charlie Brown – a morose mono-toned chap whose mother had run silent cinemas in Scotland in earlier days. The pay was small and I seem to think Brown got only about 27/6 a week, but that was better than being on the dole which dominated any thinking about jobs in Lincoln at the time, with several thousand unemployed.
The Central had been a Public Hall before being converted into a cinema, and the box was an elevated structure in one of the rear upper rooms, with the battery room underneath it. The rewind and film store was below the steps at a window overlooking St Swithin’s church. The non-synch was in the original operating box at the back of the stalls, and one was sent down there to operate it when the cue light came on, and they faded it out on the upstairs amplifier when they required.
The Exchange had one of the longest throws in the country and on Saturday night, before the interval between performances when the fans in the roof were put on to suck up the fumes and dust, it was necessary to add 10 amps to the arc lamps to penetrate the fog!
The Ritz was new, having opened on 22 February 1937, and was the first cinema in the country to install Western Electric’s new Mirrophonic sound system, but more of this building later.
The Plaza and the Grand were flea-pits and were run by staff which seemed to have a big turnover, meaning they were often quite inexperienced operators – at one time the Plaza was run for 25 shillings a week!
After a few weeks, I was moved from the Central where Mr Pratt, a nice old gentleman, was the manager, to the Ritz. Here Streets was the manager and a more surly, pompous, and arrogant man I had yet to meet. Here I met Charlie Brown, the chief operator.
Before looking at further events, mention must be made of the two ABC circuit cinemas in Lincoln. The Regal chief was Bill Croft, who became a great friend of mine in later years. He eventually moved to the Savoy. The Regal was well known for its rats. The screen tabs had to be operated by hand by someone going down from the box and this involved going under the stage end, where some poor rewind boy could encounter one of these animals.
Working at the Ritz had one great difference from the Central – the collection of the new films on Monday morning. These were all delivered by the Film Transport Service (FTS) to the Central to save money, and we had to meet there at 10am to collect and carry them on our shoulders or however down to the Ritz. Fortunately, they were collected from each cinema by leaving them at the side door, so we did not have to take them back to the Central. If you had a 12-reeler this was something to carry. I had an old school pal working in the market under the Corn Exchange, and after a week or two of the lugging I arranged with him to borrow a set of wheels, which made things much better. The newsreel was also shared with other cinemas; I can only remember sharing it with the Exchange but there may have been others. This meant the programme timetable had to be arranged to suit. It also meant carrying it across as a single reeler not in a transit tin but covered up in a bag, which would have upset the Health and Safety people of today.
I seem to remember the projectors at the Central were Kalee(?) which were open affairs while those at the Ritz were Simplex(?) reconditioned and called Kaplan ! These were enclosed on the picture head with a side door. The main difference was that the Kalee projectors would take 4-sprocket hole ‘V’ cuts quite comfortably while the Kaplan machines were not happy with anything above 2 ‘V’ cuts. This made quite a difference when it came to having to make joints.
The box at the Ritz was much better than the Central. It was spacious but the house lights and dimmers were at one and with the double-rack amplifier near the rear wall and the non-synch. in an alcove at the other end. The amplifier had two change-over switches when we went over to non-synch. One on the left panel changed over from projectors to non-synch, while that on the right-hand panel changed over from the horns behind the screen to side horns, which were behind the grilles each side of the stage and were illuminated by coloured lights controlled on the dimmer board.
We only played organ records by the best players and most people were convinced we had a real organist even if they could not see him. Charlie liked the job done properly and I had an ear for music if nothing else – we always liked to start records with a proper start and not a fade in. I also liked to arrange the curtains closing after the slides so that they finally met at the very end of the last note of a record; by which time the lights had been dimmed and we were ready for the film again. I knew which note was the cue on every record. These were changed weekly by the manager, the delightful Streets.
Most of the short time I was there, we had several ’second’ operators, the turnover being as bad as that at the Plaza. They came from Leeds, mainly, and often were refugees from affiliation orders, which meant when things got hot they disappeared without trace. Once Charlie was told he had to appear in court next morning; he was not told why, but when he got there, he found our latest second operator also present, and there was the usual affiliation order dispute. Cannot remember what happened to the erstwhile lover: I had neither time nor money for such activities.
But this meant that often Charlie and I were on our own from, say, 1.50 pm till 11pm. Fortunately, we had a café below the box and we did odd jobs for the manageress and her staff, so they kept us supplied with tea -and sometimes they were good enough to provide food.
One day Charlie was sent over to the Plaza because Streets came up and said they had been showing on only half the screen for some hour and a half. The other curtain would not open. He went and I was on my own doing everything. This involved rewinding outside the box and just leaving the projector working. It also involved at the end of a film being on the dimmers and bringing up whatever lights were required, be it the colours or the house lights. Also closing the screen tabs. Then dashing over to the projector, closing the arc-lamp damper and shutting the machine down to be followed by a dash to the amplifier to change the two switches over and then, to my distress, fading up an already primed record on the non synch. Starting a new film, I did the same in reverse. Charlie was away for over two hours. Was I glad to see him back!
There were several occasions like this with problems at the Plaza, the Grand, or the Exchange. This was when the café came in handy. At the north end across the flat roof from the box steps to the steps to below there was the ventilator to the café kitchen. One would dash over there and tell Miss Graves, the manageress, the problem and she would send up some baked beans on toast or something because normally I dashed home for my tea. This was their quid pro quo for the odd jobs we did for them.
Once, however, Charlie was in an even worse humour than usual and when the call came from Streets that they had not had a light on the screen at the Plaza for over an hour he said, “Send him over: I’m fed up”. The ‘him’ was me!
Fortunately I had covered there a bit in emergencies. I knew the ropes. To get to the box you had to go up an iron ladder which meant that on Monday or when getting films ready they had to carry a few spool boxes at a time because the transit boxes ware too heavy to get them up the ladder. Up I went.
That was after Mr Pratt, who was by that time manager there, had taken me in the hall and said, “Look at this, Frank”. There it was – a foot circle of light in the middle of the blackened screen. There were only about four men and a dog perhaps in the auditorium.
These ‘projectionists’ were two lads with little idea of the job. The problem was that they had antiquated hand-fed arc lamps, where there was no centring device for setting the crater: They had not got the sense to centre the light on a projector gate without film in the gate. What they did not know was that there were two marks on the front wall of the box, which by means of a hole in the arc lamp top gave an image when the crater was in the correct place. There was not much film left on the ending reel so having set up the other reel’s arc-lamp I just changed over to it. Mr Pratt was in the hall and he assured me that the screen nearly fell over when the bright light hit it!
Fortunately, the arc lamps at the Ritz were auto-feed and that meant you could leave them when you were on your own, otherwise it would have been chaos.
There was a canopy on the east and north sides of the frontage and on the north section was a 48-sheet billboard onto which it was our job to paste the new poster over the old, every Friday morning. The board slanted from its left side being near the main building to the west side on the very edge of the canopy. To stick most of the east side on we used a short ladder on the canopy itself. But for the west side we had to get a very long and heavy ladder from the rear of the building near the boiler-house. It was a job carrying it, and it was a long way on from the ground to the top of the billboard. Behind the board were the kitchen windows for the café and there were the usual struts holding the board in place. We had an idea after a bit to go out of the window and climb up the struts behind the board and hand over to the front and using a long paste brush do most of the top half near the canopy edge. The lower bit was then done by precariously leaning out and pasting them on. Then we put on short strips saying ‘next week’, which were removed on Saturday by covering them with ‘this week’. What modern Health and Safety regulations would have said to this sort of billposting I fear to think!
One Friday Charlie said “We’ll have to strip the board next week, they’re getting too thick”. The next Friday as we went to work (I always called for Charlie on the way) we went up the High street and met a north wind blowing bits of billposting towards us. Charlie had already decided to cancel the idea because of the wind. Wondering what was happening we went on and when we got to the cinema found the doorman stripping the boards. He had helped us as usual the week before and thought he would start without us.
Another job one often got was going down to the area behind the screen to the boiler-house, which involved going under the stage past the room where the usherettes got ready. This was on the way to do something to the Plenum air-washing plant, also in the boiler-house area. As a lad it was illuminating to hear what was being discussed in the usherettes’ room about their prowess (and otherwise) with boy friends and those they had picked up in connection with their work. I found it amusing but not of much use to me; my hobby was fishing which I did every Sunday to get out in the fresh air. Not much time for anything else, and in any case no money, even after the small pay rise that the job had been given.
Charlie was a stickler and everything had to be clean in the box, but in fact, I got on with him very well and he became a friend for life. Eventually he managed to get a job as a civvy electrician at R.A.F. Swinderby airfield. He was so well-known amongst Electric Trade Union members in Lincoln that they had a special meeting to make him an accredited electrician in spite of his lack of apprenticeship. He was there for many years and ended up at Ruston Bucyrus in Lincoln as a technician, and he used to baffle me with electronics and other matters which he had to deal with. One university man there told me one day that, without Charlie, a lot of their younger men would have been lost.
Myself, perhaps I was quick on the uptake or just lucky, but I managed to do a lot of things that I would never have believed possible previously.
Eventually I left the Ritz as I had managed to get on the railway as a cleaner in the engine sheds because my father was a railway guard and his father had been a railway porter before him. In those days you had to have a relation on the railway before they would even look at you. I cannot remember what my final pay was at the Ritz, but I do recall that my wage as a cleaner was 27/2d. a week, which must have been more than the Ritz.
* * * * * * *
An artist’s impression of the Ritz exterior at opening in February 1937. Taken from a colour painting by Stephen Clarke in The Cinemas of Lincolnshire, Mercia Cinema Society, 1997.
The Savoy box in 1937, by the light from the No. 2 machine arc. At the rear are the dimmers with capstan master wheel and slow-motion gear. All box pictures are from glass negatives taken by Frank Cossey at the time.
The Regal (ex-Picture House) Lincoln, c.1946. From the Winfield section of the Gould Theatre Collection.
The Ritz projection box with the original equipment. On the left we look across the rear wall to the amplifier rack, and on the right we step back to see machine no.1 with front shutter and sound-head door open.
The Ritz’s cramped motor-dynamo room. Switch-gear (and a gas-meter – how did they get away with that conjunction?) with the motor bottom right, and on the right the full picture.
The Ritz as run by Barrie Stead, having been bought by Rank in 1956, run as an Odeon, and then closed and sold by them. It was finally closed on the opening of the Rank multiplex and converted to Wetherspoon’s Ritz. Photo: Mervyn Gould 1990s
Ollie Carbutt eventually left the cinema business and ended up collecting steam traction engines, which he kept at Navenby station on the Lincoln to Grantham line, where he lived in the former station-master’s house.