Click on a title to go to the article
A blast from the past: the cinema organ
A notable profession
Early cinema projection
The popular Simplex projector
BBC Film Department Ealing Studios
Pat Collins: a fair and caring showman
Power to the people
Lost movies: silent and sound
The Alhambra Theatre Leicester Square
PPT President Sir Sydney Samuelson CBE BSC Hon FBKS
The Roxy New York
I was interested in the cinema from an early age and would often go to our local cinema, now long gone. It was called the Grand but didn't quite live up to its name. I remember my first visit was to see the 1953 film The Conquering of Everest. I was one of a bunch of school kids from the infant school, which was next door. I think it was this visit that sowed the seed. the Grand, which I was fond of, closed in 1961 with Carry on Regardless.
My first cinema job was as an assistant projectionist at the Palace Warrington, another that didn't live up to its name. I was only allowed to rewind and operate the lighting. Twice a day I would go down and bring back a jug of tea. The only way to get to the projection area was from a door at the side of the building, which took you, after a long climb, to the gallery, as it had been an old theatre. In the small projection box there was a stove, where the chief, a Mr Joe Slevin, would warm his pies. Joe would also mend TVs in the box. The projectors were Fedi, the arcs Peerless and the sound RCA. Six months after my arrival it became a bingo club. The last film shown was The Camp on Blood Island.
Next, it was to the Classic, Chester, which was equipped with Simplex, RCA sound and Peerless arcs. I had then reached the dizzy heights of third projectionist. From there I went to my third and last cinema, the Mayfair, Aigburth Liverpool. I was there for four years, 1969 -1973. I was a second operator. There were only two of us. I would run the show when the chief was off and he when I was off. We only worked together twice a week. The cinema closed in 1973 with a film that fitted the occasion, The Last Picture Show. It became a Mecca bingo club and was demolished in 1984.
I went on to work for the BBC Film Department, which was based at Ealing Studios, London. I joined as a trainee, even though I had been a second. The money was more, even as a trainee. There was a year's training, going around the different areas. Unlike cinemas we didn't have to change lamps, clean lamp fittings, clean floors or do projector maintenance. All that was taken care of. All we did was show films. These consisted of previewing rushes, synch rushes, cutting copies, answer prints and transmission prints. We also projected in the dubbing theatres. We ran 16, 35 and occasionally 9.5mm.
I started writing around 1992 and first wrote pieces for newspapers. I went on to write for the CTA, Image Technology, Cinema Technology, The Veteran and the British Cinematographer magazine. I also went on to write two books for an American publisher, consisting of interviews with directors of photography and camera operators. Each book has over twenty interviews.
My first interview was with cinematographer Oswald Morris. I saw his name in a directory of members that was sent to me by Image Technology. I remembered the name from my many cinema visits, so having seen his name I was keen to talk to him. Apart from writing on film I wrote over one hundred theatre reviews/previews and interviewed over thirty celebrities, including Jim Bowen, Ken Dodd, Craig Douglas, and explorer Sir Ranulph Fiennes.
Finally, I was on holiday in Brighton back in 1963 with my father and we would often go to the cinema. We saw The War Lover with Shirley Ann Field, a Hammer horror directed by Freddie Francis, and Lawrence of Arabia, partly photographed by Nicolas Roeg. Who would have thought back then that many years later I would interview all three? I am still writing a lot and have been working on a book about the history of Chester's cinemas and theatres. This will be published by the CTA.
Images show the Palace Warrington, programme leaflets for the Classic Chester, views of the projection room at the Mayfair, Aigburth Liverpool, and the cover of In Coversation with Cinematographers.
The cinema organ was part of the cinema going experience in many cinemas. Several companies made these wonderful instruments including Compton and Wurlitzer. In the early days it came in for some criticism. A 1928 article by a Mr Arthur Mason, said that organ lovers were shocked by the arrival of the cinema organ and perturbed by the appearance of this interloping newcomer. A book by a Dr George Tootell was published in 1927 called How to Play the Cinema Organ. Tootell was described as a pioneer of that branch of musical art. He was the first British organist to play a general cinema organ.
In 1939 the Daily Mail reported that a Mr Albert Lander from Nottingham played hymns at the Baptist Tabernacle on a Sunday, and fearsome roars into Tiger Rag at the Regent cinema during the week. It was the same organ because the Tabernacle and the Regent shared the same building. On 2 March 1931 Chester's first super cinema the Gaumont Palace, which was originally going to be called Regent, opened its doors. The cinema installed the Compton organ, and during intervals its thunderous sound could be heard. In the opening week the instrument was played by Leslie James, a famous organist who had made several radio broadcasts. The following week Rowland H. Cutler was knocking out the notes. The film was The Vagabond King starring Jeanette MacDonald. Cutler continued playing until Sydney Gustard sat at the console on the 4 May 1931.
Gustard had played in a number of cinemas including the Trocadero and Mayfair Liverpool, which also housed Comptons, and became the regular organist at the Chester cinema; first playing the week Paramount on Parade and Girl of the Golden West was screened. He broadcast and made several records from the building. His recordings were released by HMV and include, The Teddy Bears' Picnic and The Match Parade. Organist Wilfred Wynne sometimes stood in for Gustard. The organ at the Gaumont was advertised as the Mighty Compton. It is alleged that the organ at the Gaumont was destroyed when building work was taking place for conversion to a bowling alley. Gustard, who made hundreds of radio broadcasts left the Chester Gaumont to play at the Plaza Birkenhead, run by Bedford Cinemas (1928) Ltd.
He started there on 8 March 1937. He took the place of Lewis Oddy, who sadly passed away at a young age. Another fine organist was Frank Gordon who took over from Gustard at the Plaza in 1938 and played at other cinemas run by the company, including the Mayfair Aigburth, Liverpool. He went on to work at the Ritz, later Essoldo, Birkenhead in 1951. He also did many radio broadcasts.
On 30 October 1937 the ABC Regal opened. They also installed the Compton, described in publicity as the Wonder Compton. At the console was Wilfrid Southworth. Southworth played several selections, including a series of parodies. The Compton at the cinema could produce nine colour changes. Southworth was a composer and lyric writer and orchestrated music for various BBC programmes. He sadly died in a swimming accident.
Another organist to tinkle on the keyboard was Norman Shann. Shann had trained as a cinema organist in the 1930s under a Mr Harry Croudson at the Ritz cinema Leeds. The Compton from the Regal was shipped to Australia and is still in use.
At the Odeon Leicester Square in 1956 Mr John Howlett, a member of the Cinema Organ Society, gave a demonstration recital on their five manuel Compton. It is reported that his performance was much appreciated, and he was followed by a Mr Reginald New at the console. Many cinemas stopped using the organ by the sixties and either covered them with a sheet or had them removed. Those that retained them would blow the cobwebs out now and then, but most of the time it was the non-sync (record machine) that provided intermission music.
Before the audience settle comfortably in their seat to watch the latest cinematic offering a lot of work by a great many people has taken place. A film can cost millions to make and an army of people to bring it to the screen. One job that creates atmosphere and emotion is that of the film composer. A film composer’s job is not an easy one. He or she must convince the director that their score is the right one for the film, that best fits the action and sometimes becomes memorable. Some scores help to sell the film and can make a film that is not great, stand out. High Noon was a film that wasn't special as far as the story goes, but the theme tune became memorable and helped the movie become a success.
Other westerns where the score stood out include The Good the Bad and the Ugly and The Magnificent Seven. Spielberg's ET and Star Wars are also scores that added greatly to the films. The scores from many others also became memorable including Gone with the Wind, Lawrence of Arabia, The Third Man and Dr Zhivago.
There are many successful composers, including John Williams and Carl Davies. Other notables include Alfred Newman, Hans Zimmer, Sammy Fain and George Fenton.
Recently I spoke to several composers about their work and how they approached it. I spoke to Sam Watts. He has worked on several productions including the TV series Planet Earth. I asked if he composed quickly and did he spend a lot of time getting it right. He said it all depended on the schedule. Sometimes the composer is allowed more time on some than others. He said he always tried to get it right but sometimes due to time you only have time to get it good enough.
Many film score composers also orchestrate their music and sometimes conduct or sit in on recording sessions. Watts said he always sat in on the sessions and adds it is one of the best bits of the job. He said there is nothing like musicians breathing life into your score.
John Koutselinis has recently scored for a film called The Great Alaskan Race. He also composed for Peter O’Toole's last film Decline of an Empire. He said it is a must to supervise the recording. Usually a session supervisor sits in which is good, as they offer great help at the recording session. He says that changes regarding a composition can be made at the last minute. It is the nature of the business.
Another film composer I spoke to was Mike Hall an American who has composed for several films, which include the horror genre. He said he puts ideas down on a digital recorder before he forgets them. He says inspiration strikes when you least expect it. Asked about how he went about composing for a film he said, sometimes he got musical ideas by reading the script and sometimes he gets to see scenes or the full edit. Other times he gets ideas by talking to the director. Sometimes he composes without seeing the film. Mike says he likes to write in different styles.
There is a wide variation in what composers are paid. Big money is made by the ones at the top of the tree.
In the silent days before 1910, the projectionist was in the auditorium with the patrons. The projector would be in the aisle and the operator would operate the projector by turning a handle. The film would usually fall into a basket. The film was nitrate base so could easily go up in flames. This happened on numerous occasions.
In 1910, it became law that projection equipment had to be housed in a separate area from the audience. Therefore, cinemas had to construct projection rooms containing fireproof shutters. In addition, there had to be a bucket of water, a bucket of sand and an asbestos blanket, as fire precautions. The projection room had to be separate from the rewind area. Only film to be put on the projectors was allowed in the projection box. This practice remained until the introduction of safety base in the fifties. Then it was allowed to rewind film in the projection box.
Another strict rule was no smoking, and signs would be placed in the projection and rewind rooms. Staff in a projection room in the early days would be three, four, or more people a shift. There would be one man turning the handle between sixteen and eighteen frames per second, another would be attending to the carbons, having to constantly feed them, as there was no automatic feed. Another would be taking care of rewinding. Two would be required for a changeover. One turning and one minding the carbons. In 1911, projectors became motorised, eliminating the need to hand crank, though it was still possible to hand crank if desired. Some distributors stated the speed which they wanted their film screened. Some projectors had frames per second meters on them such as the Kalee 11. In 1927 the first part talkie/silent film, The Jazz Singer, with sound on disc was shot at 24 frames per second (fps). 24 fps became the speed for sound films with optical sound tracks. Film ran through the projector at 18 inches per second, 90 feet per minute. Projection work could be a little on the unhealthy side due to carbon dust being inhaled when cleaning arcs, carbon fumes being breathed in before extraction was fitted, possible exposure to asbestos, which was used on cables connected to the equipment, and the dangers of some early machinery with a front flicker shutter that wasn't encased, and could do damage if contact was made. There were also cleaning fluids that were suspect where health was concerned and the dangers of rewinding poor prints that could make a nasty cut to your fingers.
In the nitrate days, films were shipped in 1000ft foot rolls giving eleven minutes running time. The projectionist, using film cement, would often join these into 2000ft rolls. Tape joiners were a long time away in the future. When safety base film came along in the 1950s films were sent in 2000ft rolls. Projection rooms varied in size, some having limited movement. In 1932, The Bioscope magazine reported on the opening of the Dominion Hounslow, stating that it has one of the largest projection rooms in London. It was equipped with Walturdaw and Western Electric sound.
There were several makes of projector including Kalee, Simplex, Kamm, John Bull, Empire and BTH, made in Rugby. Kershaws made Kalee machines in Leeds, and the International Projector Corporation made Simplex in New York. Exhibitors found themselves paying out huge sums to install sound. You could buy the disc and optical system or just the optical system. In 1929, a Cinephone disc and optical system cost between £1500 and £1950. Easy terms were usually on offer.
The cinema has come a long way from those early days. We have seen wide screens, 3D, 70mm, safety base film, polyester film stock, non-rewind systems (cake-stand) and towers, eliminating changeovers, magnetic sound tracks, Dolby Stereo, xenon lamps, Dolby Digital and now digital projection. Most cinemas have removed their 35mm equipment which has been mostly skipped. Fortunately the Projected Picture Trust has saved equipment and has examples of most machines at their headquarters in Halifax
The American Simplex projectors, made in New York by the International Projection company, were installed in a number of super cinemas including the Paramount and Roxy in New York. They were also distributed worldwide. The New York Paramount had three machines and Hall and Connolly continuous feed high intensity lamps. It was reported that beneath the pedestal of each projector was a recessed, coveted pocket and outlet box from which the asbestos covered lamp leads are led up through the centre of each pedestal to the switch box and lamp. The entire conduit being concealed gave the room an unusually neat and dignified appearance.
In 1923, the machines were installed at the London Palladium. The Holborn Empire was also equipped with them. In 1930 at The Carlton in Essex Road London, they were installed with Peerless high intensity arcs and Thide electric changeovers. The Carlton also installed Brenograph effects projector.
In 1928 at the Broadway Stratford, four Simplex machines were installed with Ashcraft high intensity arcs. At the Astoria old Kent Road, London there were, back in 1930, Western Electric sound and Hall and Connolly high intensity arcs which partnered the Simplex, installed by J Frank Brockliss.
A report in the Bioscope magazine dated 11 December 1929 says: “Owing to the pressure of Continental orders, J Frank Brockliss Ltd, decided to enlarge their organisation in France. A completed stock of Simplex projectors, spare parts and similar projection equipment, such as the company handle in London, will be held in stock in Paris. In this manner, excellent service is assured to the many Continental users of Simplex projectors, over one hundred of which, have been installed during the past twelve months.”
Another Bioscope report from 2 June 1921 says: ”In spite of depressing trade reports generally, the Imperial Film Company Ltd, state that Simplex projectors are selling briskly. Between May 15 and the end of the month, no less than nine machines were installed in London and the South alone; three at the Coronation Theatre Manor Park; two at the Prince's Pavilion, Walthamstow; two at the Rivoli Whitechapel and two at the Savoy Picture House Plymouth. Since the Imperial Film Company Ltd started distributing the Simplex projector in Great Britain, some eighteen months ago, they have sold several hundred machines.”
In March 1931, the Select cinema Redditch installed new G Model RCA sound equipment with Simplex machines and little known Hahn Goertz carbon arcs.
Ealing Studios in the 1930s were making feature films with stars such as Gracie Fields and George Formby and later went on to produce memorable comedies produced by Michael Balcon with many photographed by Douglas Slocombe, who finally worked with Steven Spielberg on three Indiana Jones movies. Ealing sold the studio to the BBC and in 1956 it became home to the BBC film department, the plaque on the front stating BBC Television Film Studios.
From here dozens of film crews would be despatched to shoot in locations in the UK and abroad as well as on Ealing's famous stages. As well as the stages the studio housed cutting rooms, film despatch, dubbing theatre, projection area, sound transfer area, offices and a canteen. Crews would be sent out, with some of them using a car called a camera car where the camera and sound equipment would be piled into the boot to be driven to a location.
I worked at the studio in the early 1970s and at that time 16mm Arriflex equipment was usually used for shoots linked with the Nagra quarter inch tape machine. After the shoot rushes would be processed, one of the labs being Kays. These were sent to Ealing and other BBC areas for checking. This would be done by one of the Film Operation Managers (FOM). He would check for exposure and possible scratching.
At Ealing the projection area was a long room housing a number of projectors, which were Baur apart from 35mm, which were Kalee 21. By each machine there was an air line that allowed any hairs or dust to be blown out of the projection gate. The FOM often asked for the picture to be framed to show the frame line so it could be established if it was a hair in the projector or one that had been in the camera.
Rushes would arrive in small rolls wrapped in white bags. Split spools were used so film could be shown without having to wind it first on to a spool. The quarter inch tape would be sent to the transfer suite where it would be copied onto 16mm magnetic. The editor would go on to put sound rushes together. This would consist of the different takes. After the final takes had been put together a cutting copy was produced. This contained the editors joins.
The sound was separate on 16mm magnetic, and at this stage would contain some white spacing. The final mix had yet to be done. Apart from what was recorded in the studio or field, there were other tracks to be mixed such as effects added after filming. Several tracks would sometimes need to be projected, and the projection room housed several sound bays which could be patched into any theatre.
At Ealing there was a dubbing theatre called dubbing theatre B. It housed two Baur 16mm projectors, which could go forwards and backwards at high speed. This was known as rock and roll. The theatre was separate to the projection area. The projectors like the ones in the projection area were double band. Also in the dubbing theatre were 16mm sound bays.
The dubbing mixer had complete control, starting and stopping the equipment until he was happy with the mix. All the tracks at this time would be mixed into mono onto a 16mm magnetic roll. There were some stereo mixes but this wasn't a general thing then.
Unlike Ealing, the dubbing theatres at Television Centre were in the projection area, based in the East Tower of the site. Films were shipped by the Film Despatch department, cans taped up with white gaffer tape. The film department no longer exists and now TV like the cinema works with digital files. What will come after digital? It is hard to imagine there can be anything else, but then the same used to be said of film.
Patrick Collins, known as Pat Collins, was regarded as the King of showmen, having run a successful fairground and cinema business. Collins was born in Chester on 12 May 1859 and attended St Werberg's RC school. Later, he presented the pulpit to the church and made many gifts there. He moved to the Midlands and became a Liberal councillor in 1918 and a Liberal MP for Walsall from 1922 to 1924. In 1920 he became president of the Showman's Guild until 1929. He was an alderman in 1930 and became mayor of Walsall in 1938. In 1939 he was made a Freeman of the borough of Walsall.
As a ten-year-old boy, Collins, who was one of five children, travelled the shows with his father John Collins, an agricultural labourer. At twenty-one he operated his first children's roundabout, which was hand operated. Collins, who had great affection for his hometown would visit Chester at least once during race week. He went on to run fairs all over the UK, including a seasonal one at Barry Island in South Wales. Pat Collins Ltd was formed in1899. Every year the Pat Collins fair puts in an appearance on the Roodee, during the May races. The fair, which is still known as Pat Collins' fair, is run by Anthony Harris. He took full control and sole ownership in 1983.
Collins married his first wife Flora Ross in 1880, when she was just 17. They had one son. Flora passed away in 1933 aged 69. She was the daughter of a watchmaker from Wrexham. Collins ran several cinemas, including five in Walsall, the Olympia Picture Palace Darlaston, the Grosvenor, Bloxwich, later taken over by Oscar Deutsch, under the title The Picture House (Bloxwich) Ltd and Pat Collins Cinema deluxe in Brook Street Chester from 1921 until 1926. It is said his involvement in the cinema business appears to be that of an investor and proprietor. He never got involved with the Cinema Veteran's Association.
In 1920 the staff of the Olympia had their annual Sunday trip out and though Collins couldn't attend he wrote out a cheque for a substantial amount towards it. He was generous in so many areas. His son Pat Collins junior was also involved in cinema and at one point ran the New Brighton Tivoli and Palace. Collins first presented moving images in 1899/1900 when he took over the Wall and Hammersley ghost show. Collins went on to present Wonderland 1 and 2, built by Orton and Spooners of Burton upon Trent. These ran until 1914.
Collins re-married in 1935 at the age of 75 to a Miss Clara Mullett, aged 54, who was his secretary. Collins died on the 9 December 1943.There were more than two hundred friends, who filled St Patrick's Catholic Church at Bloxwich. Six years before his death he was offered a knighthood but refused it. It was in recognition of his great benefaction to Birmingham and other hospitals. It was said by Walsall town council: "We have said goodbye to the man with the golden heart." They recorded their grateful appreciation of the unremitting services alderman Collins rendered the town in twenty-eight years of public life. At the time of his death the business was estimated to be worth £250,000. He left £72,419 in his will.
One of the earliest projectors to serve the amusement needs of cinemagoers was the Power’s, which was introduced to the UK around 1909 by the Walturdaw Co Ltd which had premises in London, Birmingham, Liverpool and Cardiff. In October 1911 466 projectors were sold by the company. This was the Cameragraph number six.
The company was American and run by Nicholas Power. A report in the Bioscope from 1919 says the size of the factory had been increased and had sold 1700 machines to overseas buyers alone. It stated that many British Cinemas had installed them.
In 1927 it was reported that the company had been evolving a new gate for the machine to counteract excessive heat on the gate through the increase in the use of high intensity and mirror arcs. The report went on to say that the new gate had been perfected and would be available to fit on existing machines, at least in America and, in due course, the UK. The new gate had several new features, which included air spaces between film pads and pad holders. There was an eye shield to protect the operator's eyes from the glare spot. Also, there were heat insulators ensuring fingers were not burnt. A protector was used for the lower loop under the gate.
It was a complete assembly composing of three separate plates. One was a heavy grid iron plate facing the light source. Another carried the gate latch, the upper film shield and idler roller and the steel plate which carried the tension shoes and springs. In between the plates were air spaces to allow cooling.
Bakelite was used to insulate the plates. The gate latch was also insulated in a similar way. This improvement meant that the hands of the operator were protected from hot metal. The eye shield was a square tube with the two sides filled with ruby glass, which was just hooked on to a rod immediately above the automatic fire shutter and could be instantly attached or removed. The fire shutter had also been re-designed so that it raised and lowered perfectly at all times from a rate of fifty film feet per minute upwards, and there was no danger of it becoming bound in the bearings.
One of their machines was called the Power's number six and like most manufacturers they claimed it would deliver the best projection. One advert stated: "Its tremendous throw gives it preference over any other projector on the market." Another ad stated: "A good production with a famous star, well-advertised, a comfortable house and efficient orchestra are worth nothing unless your projection is of the best. To obtain this, all you require is the Power's No 6 Projector." By 1928 Power's 6B projector installations included the Paramount in Paris and the Carlton theatre, London.
Moving pictures have been around since 1896. Since then an amazing amount of footage has rolled through the cameras, producing some great movies, both silent and sound. Sadly, much of the footage has been destroyed in some way, or lost, possibly tucked away in someone's attic or shed. One of the main reasons why nearly eighty per cent of silent output is no more is because the film stock was nitrate and has disintegrated. Some films were badly stored in not ideal conditions. Some films were destroyed by the film companies to make space on the shelves for new ones. Their attitude was that the film has been out there and now has no more commercial value. This happened in the 1950s and '60s by TV companies. A tape would be wiped to make room for something else. Also, storage was another problem. There are several programmes where there were a great number of episodes but are now reduced to just one or two. Two examples include BBC shows Juke Box Jury and Six Five Special, where only a handful have survived.
Sometimes a sixteen-millimetre copy taken from video turns up. Examples are early pop shows, which were shot on video, now screened on sixteen millimetre, complete with scratches. In these cases, the original video has been destroyed. The surviving prints carried an optical soundtrack and were prints that were sent to overseas markets. In the feature film world, some stills and cast/crew lists survive, even if the film itself hasn't. Some films have been destroyed in studio fires. Universal had a fire back in 1924. Fox suffered one in 1937 and MGM had one in 1965. Martin Scorsese's Film Foundation claims that half of all the American movies made before 1950, and ninety percent before 1929 are gone forever. The Library of Congress state that seventy-five per cent of all silent films are now lost.
On the BFI’s most wanted list are the silent films A Study in Scarlet (1914), Hitchcock's The Mountain Eagle (1926) and The Last Post (1929). Sound films include Squadron Leader X (1943) Linda (1960), directed by Don Sharp. Other films on the missing list include Educated Evans starring Max Miller and Bless 'Em All with the late singer Max Bygraves. Some films are incomplete. Sometimes films are cut for various reasons, including censorship. The cut footage is usually kept but sometimes it goes missing. The Stanley Kramer film It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World was premiered at 192 minutes but cut to 162 for general release. In the '80s twenty minutes of the cut footage was found in a warehouse that was due for demolition. The remaining lost road show footage was found in 2013 as part of restoration. Most of the scenes were complete, the remainder were missing sound or visuals, as they were derived from the original road show prints. Apparently, the original elements disappeared a long time ago.
Scenes that were cut from The Good the Bad and the Ugly are now believed to be lost. Bedknobs and Broomsticks was shortened after its premier from two and a half hours to 119 minutes. In 1996 it was decided to restore it to its original length. Most of the cut scenes were found. However, most of the dialogue tracks for the scenes could not be recovered, so where possible, the scenes were dubbed by the original actors. Footage of the song A Step in the Right Direction hasn't been found. Some lost films and TV episodes have been found. Some TV material is saved because someone made a video recording of it.
The late Bob Monkhouse recorded a lot of material. Because of people like Bob, a lot of material has been saved, which would have been lost forever. There are several Dr Who episodes that have been saved from home recordings. The comedy Steptoe and Son is another example of home recording saving the day. There is still a lot of old material on nitrate stock, which needs transferring to safety stock. The trouble is by the time it is decided to transfer and archive it, the damage is done.
With digital technology, a lot of films can be restored to their original quality. A lot of Eastman colour prints and negatives have faded over the years, but the digital process can restore elements that have suffered the passing of time. A film doesn't have to be very old to need treatment. The film Lawrence of Arabia (1962) had a full restoration job done on it. Let us hope many more films are preserved for generations to come
The building, which was to become the Alhambra, opened to the public on 18 March 1854 as the Royal Panopicon Science and Art. Designed by a Mr T. Hayter Lewis, it lasted just two years. On 3 April 1858 the doors swung open to let in the first theatre patrons and it was known as the Alhambra Palace. The proprietor was a Mr E T Smith. Hayter Lewis was also responsible for the conversion. In 1860 Smith ran it as the Alhambra Music Hall and on the ground floor tables were installed as food and drink were served.
Ownership changed in 1864 when it was ruin by a Mr Frederick Strange. In 1866 some alterations took place. In 1871 more work was undertaken and it became the Royal Alhambra Palace Theatre of Varieties. The new look Alhambra offered ballet, opera, pantomime and farce. Alterations included New Brussels carpet throughout the auditorium, new gas devices, rows of orchestra stalls and private boxes. Entrances were also improved. Come 1881 alterations once again took place under architects Perry and Reed. The opening took place on 3 December 1881 with a production called The Black Crook.
On 6 December 1882, at just after one in the morning, the theatre was on fire. It was said that it started in the balcony area. Several firemen were injured tackling the blaze and it was reported that a Thomas George Ashford died from injuries in Charing Cross hospital. A great crowd gathered but several police constables kept them back. There were twenty six steam fire engines in attendance. Apart from the theatre a Turkish bath was burned out. Damage came to a staggering £150,000.
Following the fire, reconstruction work took place and it was decided to build it along the lines of the old one. Building work took twenty nine weeks and was designed by Perry and Reed. The theatre rose from the ashes and reopened on 3 December 1883 with a production called The Golden Ring. More alterations took place in 1888 by Edward Clark and in 1892 more changes took place. A Mr W M Brutton came on board in 1897 and designed an extension at the rear to give a second entrance on Charring Cross Road.
Further improvements were made by prolific theatre architect Frank Matcham in 1912. Films were first screened there by Robert W Paul on 25 March 1896. By the 1930s cinema was booming and it was decided that the site would be used to house a cinema. So the grand looking Alhambra became a victim of the wrecking ball.
The Alhambra theatre in London's Leicester Square was demolished to make way for what was to become Odeon's flagship cinema. The Odeon cost a staggering £750,000 to build and was completed in only seven months, opening on the 2 November 1937 with the film The Prisoner of Zenda. Prices weren't cheap. They were, £10, £5, £3, £2, £1, ten shillings and five shillings. Proceeds from the first performance went to the British Empire Cancer Campaign and the Scottish National Trust. Those in attendance included the Duke and Duchess of Gloucester, Oscar Deutsch Lord and Lady Hailsham, film actor Raymond Massey and Lady Hope Hawkins, widow of the author of The Prisoner of Zenda Anthony Hope Hawkins.
Projection equipment at the Odeon included BTH and Cinemeccanica. For many years PPT member Nigel Wolland MBE was the chief projectionist and on retirement was replaced by Mark Nice.
An interview by David A Ellis
Sydney Wylie Samuelson was born on 7 December 1925, the son of film pioneer, producer and writer George Berthold Samuelson (1889-1947), who created Worton Hall and Southall Studios. Worton Hall in Isleworth housed one of the earliest film production companies in the UK.
Sydney left school aged fourteen in 1939 and went to work as rewind boy at the new Luxor cinema, Lancing in Sussex, which opened its doors in January 1940. The chief projectionist was a Mr Frank Chipperfield, who was a hard taskmaster. After working in various cinemas in the Midlands for ABC and a news theatre, he went to Gaumont British News, in the editing department. After serving in the RAF, training as a flight navigator, he went into documentaries in the camera department.
In 1953 he was one of several cameramen to photograph the crowning of the Queen in Westminster Abbey. A year later he set up Samuelson Film Service, first hiring out film equipment from a cupboard in his first home and then renting a half shop in Hendon. Later, his three brothers became involved, and in the 1960s premises were acquired in Cricklewood Broadway, London. They opened the Production Village in Cricklewood, which had its own pub called The Magic Hour. The company also had branches in Paris, Amsterdam and at Heathrow airport for airfreight handling. Further afield they were established in Australia and in four states in the USA. They went on to buy the famous Hammer Studios at Bray. Samuelson’s became a company that was known and respected worldwide. Sadly, David Samuelson passed away in October 2015. From 1973–1976 Sydney Samuelson was the chairman of BAFTA. He was awarded the CBE in 1978 and in 1985 received the Michael Balcon Award for outstanding service to the British Film Industry. In 1991 he became the first British Film Commissioner. A fellowship from BAFTA was given to him in 1993. He also received a fellowship from the British Film Institute and a knighthood from HM the Queen in 1995. Prince Charles tapped his shoulders with the sword. He was the subject of This is your Life. He ran the London Marathon in 1982 and was the first cameraman for the UK version of the Candid Camera series and shot the one about the car with no engine.
In 1954 you set up Samuelson’s – would you tell me about that.
The business first operated from a cupboard in my homes in Finchley and Hendon. Our next base was in 1959 in a half shop in Hendon. That was the first time we had an overhead and I took on a member of staff because my wife could no longer manage the invoices while bringing up our three children. From there we started to increase our stock of different kinds of cameras and lenses. Eventually we had sound recording equipment too, with Leavers Rich and Nagra machines. One of the differences I found interesting, when I first went to Hollywood to set up our representation of Panavision in Europe, was that the Americans didn’t rate the Nagra seriously and for some years after were still recording on 35mm magnetic. They were still using a three-ton truck just to carry the batteries. They were late in adopting the Nagra, which was a small and brilliant machine, recording on to quarter inch tape.
Above: location filming
I understand your brothers joined the company. How many were there and what did they do?
There were four of us; me, my older brother David and my two younger brothers Tony and Michael. Michael joined first as my number two, running the rental and administration sides. Next on the staff was my brother David, who was a busy and respected cameraman at British Movietone News. He joined us and became the head of our engineering department. My other brother Tony always organised the financial side. In 1966 we became a public company and moved to Cricklewood shortly after.
You were one of the cameramen in Westminster Abbey, covering the Coronation in 1953 – would you tell me a bit about that?
I was on the staff of Rayant Pictures at the time but went to help with the event. I was given time off for the rehearsal. My brother David shot in black and white for Movietone’s regular twice–weekly newsreel and I was positioned next to him shooting 35mm Gevacolor negative. I was using a Newman Sinclair clockwork camera and nearly missed the actual crowning because a spring broke at the crucial moment. I had never had a spring go in my filming life before. Fortunately, I had another camera body with me. I quickly took the camera off its mount and put the other body on. I also had to transfer the fully loaded (200ft) magazine and the lens. I just managed to capture the moment the crown was being placed on the Queen’s head.
When you were training in the RAF did you do any projection work between your other duties?
Yes, I did. The first thing I did when I was posted to a new RAF station was to find out who oversaw the camp cinema to see if they needed an experienced projectionist. I was usually offered a part time job and would show films for say three nights a week. I was paid three shillings (15p) a show.
When did you join the Colonial Film Unit?
That was in 1947. I could have gone back to Gaumont British News but I was told that, due to the return from the forces of more senior employees, there was only a vacancy in the archive library, which I didn’t want. I was on my way to have lunch with my brother, who worked at Movietone. Before I got there, I passed the offices of the governments Colonial Film Unit. I didn’t really know what they did, but I went in to see if I could get a job there in the camera department, if they had one. I was extremely lucky for two reasons. One was that the producer there was an eminent old gentleman called George Pearson, who had been quite famous in the silent film days. It turned out that he had directed films for my father. My father operated mainly in the silent days but later he also did some work in the ‘quota quickie’ period of the early 1930s. Pearson said: “I don’t think we have any vacancies but would you like to go and talk to Hal Morey, our chief cameraman?” He asked if I had any experience with cameras. I told him I had a little bit. He then asked me if I knew the Newman and Sinclair camera. I told him I did. He asked if I could load its magazines. I said I could. He said: “I am just going to lunch but when I come back show me what you can do”. The second piece of luck was that he was going to lunch at that moment. I went to see my brother at Movietone, three doors away and asked him if he would immediately show me how to load a Newman and Sinclair magazine, which he did. After lunch, I went back and performed what I had just learned from my brother and got a job as a trainee camera assistant. The company made instructional documentaries for local African audiences. They had units in various parts of the colonial world. I first worked in East Africa, which was pretty thrilling for a young chap, who had never been out of the UK.
Where did you go after the Colonial Film Unit?
In 1949 I took a job with the about to be formed Nigerian Film Unit, as a cameraman. This was a ten–month contract. I had recently married but I couldn’t take my wife as only a single passage was provided. She agreed to me going and off I went working as a cameraman in Nigeria. I also trained Nigerian film students. My wife and I thought we might save enough for a deposit to buy our first home.
Above: Sir Sydney and Lady Doris
When did you become involved with Panavision?
I think it was 1965. I sort of knocked on the door of Panavision, Los Angeles because I noticed that more and more pictures came out that had been photographed in Panavision than pictures that were photographed in CinemaScope. The trouble was if a producer wanted to use Panavision everything had to be brought in from Los Angeles. I went over there and told them I thought they should have an agent in Europe because it is too difficult and too expensive to bring equipment in from Los Angeles and send it back after use. Only major features have a budget that allows them to do it. After my visit, we subsequently became the exclusive representative of Panavision throughout Europe.
The Panavision range was so much better than any other anamorphic lenses that you could rent. CinemaScope lenses were very big, and they weren’t very good optically, especially when shooting close-ups. If you were doing a head and shoulders of an actress no longer in the full flush of youth the results didn’t look particularly flattering. That was not the case when Panavision introduced their optics. You could rent just the lenses and fit them on to the UK based studio Mitchell cameras. Our key line of equipment was the Arriflex camera, which came from LA modified with everything you needed to shoot anamorphic. I visited the Mitchell camera company in Glendale, California and we subsequently bought our own Mitchell BNC with all its ancillaries. To us it cost an absolute fortune. We started to stock zoom lenses when they first came on the market and they became very much in demand, but you couldn’t use a zoom on a non-reflex camera such as the BNC Mitchell because you couldn’t view what you were getting while the lens was zooming. The first zoom lens we stocked was a 35:140 (4 to 1). We also stocked ultra-wide angle 14 and 18mm lenses as well as an 8mm fisheye, extreme wide angle.
Would you tell me a bit about cinematographer Freddie Young?
Freddie Young became a very good friend. He was one of the celebs who came on the television show ‘This is Your Life’, which I was featured on. When the excellent American Moviola crab dolly came on the market we purchased one and demonstrated it first to Freddie at St John’s Wood Studios, where he was shooting tests for The Seventh Dawn (1964). The director and the camera crew, including Freddie, thought it was brilliant. We had only just imported the dolly, but we immediately gained a ten-week rental as it was used on the whole film on location in Malaysia. We ended up servicing the entire picture, sub hiring a Mitchell BNC camera from a friendly cameraman owner by the name of Bunny Onions. That is how we reached into the feature business and decided to buy our own Mitchell BNC.
The first technical marvel for which he was responsible, and which held me in awe of his genius was as far back as 1938 on Sixty Glorious Years. One sequence was an early example of British Technicolor three-strip. There was a remarkable ballroom scene, which was achieved by means of an early matte shot. Young is the master in my book of cineastes, arguably and certainly in his era he was the best cameraman in the world.
You were a friend of the great director David Lean – what was he like?
David Lean was very much into the technical side of each of his movies. He would come to visit us when his crews were in, testing the gear. I got to know him very well. Even when he wasn’t shooting a picture I would regularly get a call and he would come for lunch. He would always ask what was new on the market – he liked to keep up with the latest technology. Years elapsed between pictures made by David Lean. I think between Ryan’s Daughter and A Passage to India nine years elapsed. David maintained that the New York critics gave him such a bad time about Ryan’s Daughter. The awful press devastated him. When the film opened the New York Press Association arranged a conference with David at the Algonquin hotel in Manhattan. The press people pulled him to pieces. He didn’t get over that easily, I can tell you. David was a keen still photographer himself and he would also shoot on 16mm. He liked to come and have lunch with me. He came in once with a brand new Hassleblad camera. Of course, we made fitted camera cases and while we were having lunch, my guys made fitted out cases to hold his camera, and all its lenses and filters. He was absolutely bowled over. That was one side of David. He was very much a technician, not just the director who completely relied on his cameraman. David was the editor on the film In Which we Serve (1942) but was asked by Noel Coward, who wrote, starred and directed, to help him direct because of David’s understanding of camera angles, timing and technical ability to line up shots. Later, he became part of a new production company called Cineguild, which also involved Coward.
You were a friend of Lord Richard Attenborough – how did you get to know him?
I first got to know him first when I was a camera assistant on the second or third unit of The Baby and the Battleship (1956). Even then Dickie wouldn’t pass anyone by, no matter how lowly their position might be, without saying: “Hello, how are you today”. I got a couple of days work on the unit at Wembley Studios. I was touched when the crew were assembling and Richard gave me the same recognition as the seniors, it was his lifetime courtesy.
Years later I got to know him because I was elected to the council of BAFTA and he was chairman. We then became very good friends. Sadly, Richard had a serious accident at his home, falling down the stairs and landing on his head. From then on, he was mostly unable to communicate. He could listen but couldn’t speak.
Did you stock any 65mm equipment?
We did supply Panavision 65mm productions. One of them was Stanley Kubrick’s 2001 (1968). We brought in the equipment from the States and returned it to Panavision afterwards. We didn’t keep equipment of such huge value on our shelves because regular demand for 65mm wasn’t there. The last production we supplied the large format for was Ryan’s Daughter (1970).
Above: Sir Sydney with awards
How did you get the position of being the government’s first British Film Commissioner?
There had been moves by the film industry to get government funding support for the idea of an organisation to promote the British film production sector. Margaret Thatcher, who was prime minister at the time, was keen, and so the money was made available. I was about to retire from the chairmanship of the Samuelson group and the Department of Trade and Industry had been told to find somebody to set up what would be called the British Screen Commission. The minister for Trade and Industry was Lord Hesketh. He approached me and said: “I understand you are about to retire. You know your way around the British film production industry, and I notice that it’s your name that keeps coming up”. I considered that to be just about the greatest ego massage I had ever had. Originally, they wanted it to be called the British Screen Commission but I said: “That won’t do it. It must be the British Film Commission because everybody, especially in America, knows what a film commission is for. For us it is to support filmmakers and to attract filmmakers to any given place as long as it’s in the UK”. It became the British Film Commission and I remained in charge for six years, (1991–1997).
Above: Lord Mountbatten, Sir Sydney and Princess Ann
When were you knighted?
The Queen was on tour in New Zealand, so Prince Charles did the honours in 1995. The citation read, ‘For services to the British Film Commission’. I was delighted that it was Prince Charles because we knew him a bit. He used to come to our little studio in Cricklewood when he was going to introduce some charity appeal film or whatever, and we would often shoot it for him. Also, when I was president of the Cinema and Television Benevolent Fund, he would often come with the Queen and his grandmother, the Queen Mother, to the Royal Film Performance. I would meet the royal party front of house when they arrived at the Odeon Leicester Square, then sit with them and talk to them throughout the evening. After I had been knighted Prince Charles invited my wife and I for lunch at St James’s Palace. I loved the fact that he told his equerry that he would like to sit next to Lady Samuelson at lunch. I was very pleased that he was the one that tapped my shoulders with his sword.
David A Ellis and Bryan Lindop
The town of Crewe had six cinemas operating in the 1930s. The first to operate as a purpose-built cinema was the Palace on Edleston Road which opened as the Electric Palace on 23 May 1910. It had seating for 900 and was first equipped with Gaumont projectors with the dog movement, which was an intermittent movement which didn't use a Maltese cross. There was also rear projection employed. For some reason, the projectors were replaced after only a few months. This was probably because the dog movement was known to be unkind to film. In 1912 it was taken over by Crewe Picture Palace Ltd. Variety was also staged and in 1927 a balcony was added. The projection was now done from the rear of the stalls. In 1930 a Western Electric sound system was installed. The first sound film was Hollywood Revue. The cinema closed on 29 September 1956, run by the Rank Organisation. The last films were: I'll See you in My Dreams and Riding Shotgun (Mon, Tues, Wed) and From Here to Eternity and Fury at Gunsight Pass (Thurs, Fri, Sat).
The Co-operative Hall in Co-operative Street opened in 1900 seating 1200. In 1910 a Mr Pendleton hired the hall for his film shows called Pendleton's Talking Pictures. It seems Mr Pendleton hired people with a clear voice to talk over pictures. By 1917 a Mr George Hand was running films there and named it the Kino. The first sound on disc film was Conquest played from the 16 December 1929. A sound system called Syntock was installed (do any of our members know anything about this?). In 1931 RCA Photophone was installed and the first film screened using this system was The Vagabond King. Arthur Hand took over the Kino in 1932, after his father's death in November that year.
On the 19 October 1961 after a re-fit the Kino became the Ritz, run by the Star Group. The building had been converted costing around £20,000. Their first presentation was the comedy Raising the Wind starring Leslie Philips, who made a visit to the new venue. Projection equipment was the British Thomson Houston (BTH) SUPA Mk 1 (Single Unit Projection Assembly) model with xenon lamp conversion. It also had the Projectomatic type 0 system, which just did changeovers. Wray varamorph lenses were used for scope. The Wray lenses absorbed a lot of light so films with red titles were barely legible and images tended to be poorly lit. In 1978 the equipment was changed to a Westar projector with a tower. The first film to run on this was Superman, showing from 24 December for three weeks. When Star took over a new projection area was constructed three feet higher than the previous one. The chief operator was a Mr Brian Roscroe. The cinema closed on 28 August 1982 with the film Fame, and the building was demolished.
Above: exterior of the Ritz
Above: Ritz auditorium
Above: Ritz Chief Operator Mr Brian Roscroe with Bryon
Above: Press ads
Above: Rear of Ritz auditorium with the projection room having been raised by three feet
Another early cinema was the Empire on Heath Street. A Mr C. W. House built it. He had a furniture business on the site and had it demolished to make way for the cinema. From around 1929 it was run by Associated British Cinemas (ABC). Seating was for 938 and the projection room housed RCA sound. The Empire opened for business on 4 May 1914. On 5 August 1929 it screened the sound on disc sensation The Singing Fool starring Al Jolson. In September 1941 it was taken over by Arthur Hand. The last film screened on 3 August 1963 was Camp of Violence. Due to illness 69-year-old Mr Hand who ran the Empire with his wife, decided to close the cinema. In April 1964 Arthur Hand died aged 69. On 17 November 1966 it became a Surewin bingo club, run by Hutchinson.
Above:Empire as Surewin bingo
The Grand, West Street opened its doors on 4 March 1922 with the film Common Clay. Silent films ceased on 27 June 1931 with a showing of The Grey Devil. A company called Mihaly (Crewe) Ltd ran the hall from 1931. They took over from the Crewe West End Cinema Co. Mihaly installed their own sound system called Mihaly Tone Film System. The first 'Talkie' was Madonna of the Streets, bursting into sound on 2 July 1931. Later, under new management it was kitted out with British Taking Picture (BTP) sound and later BTH was installed. The building closed on 18 January 1958 with Carry on Admiral and was eventually demolished
The Queens Hall, High Street opened on 29 December 1910. It had seating for 700. In November 1929, a Western Electric sound system was installed and the first film to bring music to the audience’s ears was Showboat shown from 11 November 1929. The cinema closed its doors on 27 May 1933 with the film Reunion. The building and several shops were demolished to make way for a new cinema called the Plaza. The Plaza opened on 11 November 1933 with seating for 1400. The first film to delight the audience was Cavalcade. It was said that the new building was three times the size of the former. There was also a cafe within the building.
Wide screen came to Crewe on 11 October 1954 when the first CinemaScope production, The Robe, made its presence at the Plaza shown on a forty-foot screen. This entertained Crewe folk for two weeks. This was shown on Kalee equipment with Western Electric sound. The Plaza name disappears after the screening of The Black Tent, which was shown from 21 May 1956. It became a Gaumont cinema and was advertised under the new name from 27 May 1956. The first offering under the new name was a Sunday for a one-day only presentation called Where There's Life. From the Monday a film called Safari was screened. After only five years as a Rank cinema the doors were closed on 12 August 1961 with the films Two Rode Together and A Question of Suspense.
Next to occupy the building was the Majestic Ballroom, then a Top Rank bingo club from 8 August 1965. By 1971 it was sold to Hutchinson's Surewin bingo. Apollo leisure took control following the death of Hutchinson and converted the building into a three-screen cinema, which became Apollo. It was eyes down in the stalls area where bingo fans were catered for and eyes up to the cinema screens. There were two in the old circle area and one in the old cafe. The original Plaza projection room was used to cover the two in the former balcony. A small box was used for the third screen. There were one hundred seats in cinema one and two, and ninety in the third.
Above: Apollo exterior
The opening attractions took place on 24 May 1990 with the films Uncle Buck, King of the Wind and Leviathan. Cinemeccanica Victoria IVs projected the images in screens one and two and a Westar machine with an Orcon xenon lamp in screen three. Westrex towers were employed in all three. A selsyn system allowed for one print to be screened in one and two. On 1 December 2005, the cinema closed. It became a concert venue called M, which operated in the former stalls. This closed in 2010. The building remained empty for a few years before being demolished. This joined what Bryan and I jokingly refer to as the Rubble circuit.
The last traditional purpose-built cinema in Crewe was the 1937 Odeon, which was in Delamere Street. It made its debut on 26 July 1937 and was opened by the Mayor Frank Bott. The opening attraction was Dark Journey. A local firm, Fletcher and Son, did the building work. Architecture was by Budge Reid from the Harry Weedon practice. The cinema was of stadium design but with a clearly defined separate rear stepped area and sloping stalls and had seating for 1129. In its later years the theatre was leased to Brent Walker and became the Focus. The last showing was an X certificate horror movie called The Evil Dead. The tabs were operated for the last time on 26 May 1983. The building like many before it and since became another victim of the demolition hammer.
Crewe now has a small Odeon multiplex which they took over from the Reel Group. It originally had Kinoton film equipment before inevitably succumbing to digital.
One of the most luxurious and appointed cinema houses of all time was the Roxy in New York, which opened its doors on 11 March 1927. Designed by Walter W Ahlschlager it was reputed to have cost the staggering sum of ten million dollars,an astronomical sum back in the 1920s.
It took eleven months to construct and had seating for six thousand two hundred people. In addition it had lobby space for four thousand more. The person who had the theatre constructed, Samuel L. Rothafel (Roxy), was regarded as the greatest showman at the time. The theatre was situated at 153 West 50th Street.
The orchestra pit was on an elevator so that 110 piece orchestra and three organs appeared and disappeared. Up in the operating box were three Simplex type A projectors on five point pedestals and were enamelled maroon with nickel plated fittings. The light source was provided by Hall and Connolly continuous feed high intensity lamps, which operated at 120 amps each and each lamp was controlled by a 200 ampere ironclad switch allowing the arc to be struck on low amperage.
Two projectors were fitted with Vitaphone equipment, which could be attached and unattached in a few minutes. The third projector was fitted with the Fox Movietone device, which was somewhat similar in operation to the Phonofilms equipment. Each machine was fitted with Powers speed indicator equipment and electrically operated cut-offs for the changeovers. There were large section pipes to conduct the heat and fumes from the high intensity lamphouses direct to a large duct running along the rear of the projection box, at one end of which a large fan was in operation to draw of the gases.
Unlike many projection areas the Roxy box wasn't hot and stuffy. The box and adjoining areas were kept cool and bearable by a system of fans and ventilation shafts. The spotlights in the box were 150 amp Brenkert and there were four of them. In addition there were two Brenkert special effects projectors and a double dissolving stereopticon. All the conduit was concealed and there were special fittings for projection room lighting.
The operating room floor was laid with substantial covering of rubber, somewhat similar to Terrazo. There were several other rooms used by the projection team, including a rheostat room, a rectifier room, rewind room and a room for the comfort of the operators, which included a shower. The screen was known as the Raven half tone screen, a product of the Raven Screen Corporation.
The projection throw was just over one hundred feet and the picture size just a few inches over twenty five feet by nineteen feet. The Roxy could easily cater for live stage presentations. On the stage was another projection room, which was situated at the apex and was a permanent fixture as part of the stage This small concrete box, known as a pill box, housed another Simplex machine with a powerlite reflector type projection lamp, which was used for rear projection of special animated settings and for novel effects, which only Roxy and his gang could devise, upon a trans Lux patent translucent screen.
The stage was also equipped with a great sounding board cyclorama, which was fifty feet in height and weighed almost four tons. The main switchboard was on the stage and controlled every circuit in the building with were over a thousand switches and was considered to be the largest switchboard in the world. One of the greatest cinemas, if not the greatest, closed its doors on 29 March 1960 and was demolished the same year.
Above: Samuel L. Rothafel with the theatre's organ
Above: Samuel L Rothafel with his organists
Above: celebrating being open one year