"X" films for Sailors!

Thrills In The Dark…

(or Lost Cinemas of My Youth:

Harlow, Weymouth & Portland)

My earliest memory of film-going is of wanting to hide behind the cinema seats in fear, not surprisingly, of the flying ‘monkey-men’ in Wizard of Oz. This would have been in the later half of the 1950s. I was extremely young and it is little wonder that later in life I so easily found a taste for being scared in the dark by movie monsters!

This must have been at Harlow New Town’s temporary cinema the Regal, which was opened in 1952 (the year I was born) in a factory on the Temple Fields industrial estate where my father worked. The Regal Cinema was the first post-World War II cinema to be constructed in England. It was designed to be either a factory unit or a cinema, by the Harlow Development Corporation architect F. Gibberd.

The Regal Cinema opened on 8th August 1952 with Michael Dennison in Angels One Five. It was the first cinema in the newly constructed town. All seating was on a single floor. It was taken over by the Rank Organisation on 28th February 1955, although it was never re-named Odeon.



Crowds gather for the opening (1952) of the temporary cinema, Harlow



 

When the new Odeon, situated in the town centre, the High, opened on 1st February 1960, the Regal was closed and the staff were transferred to the new cinema. The Regal was converted into a factory, known as Regal Works. Since 2003, it has been converted into offices, known as Regal House.

The new Harlow Odeon (1961) before shops were built either side

At the newly opened Odeon I recall being on first-aid duty as a very young St John’s Ambulance cadet for several Saturday mornings. Old black and white fifties matinee ‘cliff-hanger’ serials were still being shown in those days and were lapped up by the audience of predominantly young and very noisy boys. This was our “Saturday morning flicks”.

Family outings to the Odeon were a huge treat. The films were big too and included El Cid (1961) and Taras Bulba (1962). Usually the outing was rounded off by a visit to the Wimpy Bar, a new thing then. I recall it all seemed very “American”. My mother always ordered a Rum Baba!

I remember as us kids got older and more independent of our parents, we would ask complete strangers to “get us in” at the Odeon, if the “A” certificate forbade unaccompanied minors. One such film was The Long Ships (1964) and I remember we remained in our front seats at the end of the film in order to see it for at least a second viewing! You could in those days.

The Odeon in Harlow New Town was the first new cinema to be built for Rank after the war (others were completions of pre-war schemes) and it opened with Follow A Star. It was designed by T. P. Bennett & Son and had 1,244 seats on a single floor in the stadium plan. The projection suite was suspended above the rear stalls and had an almost level throw to the large screen.

In June 1987, it apparently closed for tripling and the rear stalls were converted into two smaller cinemas whilst the front retained the original box and screen. Refurbished in 2001 the cinema was re-branded with the new Odeon style. Yet it sadly closed in August 2005.

The closed Odeon, Harlow

Seaside cinema:
In 1963 my family moved from Harlow to Weymouth. I was eleven. The cinema choice (two cinemas = two screens; no multiplexes in those far off days!) was between the rather grand Gaumont in St Thomas Street, Weymouth (renamed the Odeon in 1968) or the less grand and quite small Odeon in Gloucester Street, (renamed the Classic in 1967). Both cinemas kept the eager film fan such as myself, busy with such new releases as First Men In The Moon, 633 Squadron, The Moonspinners, and The Train (quickly followed by Von Ryan‘s Express). One teacher took our class to see Becket.

Edward Judd and Lionel Jeffries: First Men In the Moon (1964)

For a few short years my newly acquired addiction for horror movies was played out between these two cinemas (plus what my mother called a “fleapit”, on Portland) - that is, up until I left school and left Weymouth.

Weymouth was a brief bus ride from home in Wyke Regis. An after midnight twenty-minute walk back from town was necessary if I had attended the Friday night Late-Night Horror show at the Classic (youngsters had it easier in the USA where vintage horrors were then being shown weekly on television!).

I have fond memories of the Classic and the classic horror movies (some twenty or thirty years old!) shown therein. After the renaming in 1967 I recall the Odeon in St Thomas Street usually had the latest big releases leaving the Classic booking lesser films. However, the inventive manager at the Classic would take full advantage of the “X”-ploitation end of the cheap films available, having occasionally a week long programme of horror movies, a different double bill each day! It was a bit hit and miss. They were often the cheaper b-movies of their day, - but what a joy! 

Friday nights at 10.30 or 11pm was usually “late-night horror night” with Roger Corman classics such as The Terror (1963), or Universal classics such as House of Frankenstein (1944) and House of Dracula (1945) – all rather grainy, scratched and with the occasional jump or bump. No digital in those days! Missing bits of dialogue were the norm with such old films and often caused moments of unintended mirth.

Now long gone, the Classic apparently opened in 1933 (as the Odeon), built for and operated by Oscar Deutsch’s Odeon Theatres Ltd. It was a converted bus garage and originally seated 541 in stadium style on one floor. Apparently this was the second circuit Odeon cinema, which is interesting as most of the subsequent Odeon’s were purpose built and renowned for their lavish architectural design. The site in Gloucester Street, Weymouth was a modest affair in comparison, but when it opened there were extensively painted rural Dorset scenes as mural decorations on the auditorium walls.

The murals were painted over in around 1939. It was all red flocked wallpaper and red drapes by the time I took my seat in the dark in 1963/64 to watch such films as Dr No (rebooked following the huge success of From Russia With Love). On 10th December 1967, the Odeon became the Classic before changing hands yet again when it became part of the Cannon Group and was re-named Cannon.



The "Classic" Weymouth, when previously named "Odeon"



As a young teenager I got to know the manager at the Classic and would beg posters or film stills. He was only too willing to oblige if duplicates were waiting to be sent down the line along with the film. He even booked one or two of my suggested horror features. Barbara Steele in The Revenge of the Vampire (1960) (aka Black Sunday) was one, just then made available to the UK, after an eight year ban. I saw Frankenstein (1931) and the Bride of Frankenstein (1935) at late-nights at the Classic too but the Classic could also be relied upon for excellent movies of the time including 2001 - A Space Odyssey and Barbarella!

By the social standards of the 1960s, Black Sunday
was considered unusually gruesome, and was banned
in the U.K. until 1968 because of its violence. It was
released in the UK as Revenge of the Vampire



Later in 1994, the Weymouth Classic became part of Peter Walker’s Picturedrome Theatres Ltd. and was renamed the Picturedrome. The cinema continued as part of the Picturedrome chain until its closure on 31st October 1999, which was due to the opening of the Cineworld multiplex in New Bond Street. In around 2004, the old Classic was demolished, apart from the south facing wall, and by March 2005, flats had been built on the site.

The larger ‘Odeon’ (initially Gaumont) in St Thomas Street in Weymouth town centre (where I recall seeing Planet of the Apes and The Boston Strangler upon release) had a long and chequered history. The premises were originally known as The Jubilee Hall and it was presenting film shows as well as live entertainment as far back as February 1909. Throughout the 1920’s it went through several name changes (as it would throughout its life) including The Royal Jubilee Hall and The Opera House.

In 1926 extensive building work and alterations were carried out on the site under the supervision of cinema architect William Edward Trent. The new look theatre included a balcony lounge, a cafe, dance hall and two boxes in the auditorium. The proscenium was 38 feet wide, the stage 30 feet deep and there were eight dressing rooms. Seating capacity was for 1,400 in stalls and circle. The venue reopened as the Regent Theatre under the ownership of Provincial Cinematograph Theatres(PCT) on 2 August 1926 with a live show entitled “Welcome Home”. The first film was Elaine Hammerstein in  Parisian Nights screened on 8th August 1926. PCT were taken over by Gaumont-British in the 1930’s and the site was renamed as the Gaumont on 26th February 1951.

Since demolished: Weymouth's "Gaumont" that became "Odeon"

On 22nd September 1968, it was re-named Odeon. Subsequently the Odeon became the Top Rank Club, which lasted until 8th February 1976 when The Rank Organisation leased the site to CC Leisure Ltd. who renamed it as The New Invicta Cinema & Bingo Hall. However, this only lasted for little under a year due to poor public support and the site was closed on 29th January 1977. The last films screened here were The Language of Love and Blue Sextet. The building operated as a bingo club from 7th April 1977, and was closed and demolished in December 1989. The site became a car park and by 2004 the area was re-developed as Debenham’s store and other retail shops, adjacent to the new Cineworld multiplex.

Portland's Regal:　

Another local cinema that could be relied upon for vintage horror fare was the Regal on Portland, a bus ride away, across the Chesil Beach causeway.

The "Regal" Portland, before it burnt down (photo: Geoff Kirby)



This was another nice old cinema but one which on occasion attracted a dodgy type of clientele. I remember a rather scruffy older gentleman who not only attempted to pick my pocket in the dark but eventually dozed off leaning up against me. Had I been old enough to have the courage to complain, or indeed if the theatre had not been so full as to permit a change of seat, I would have enjoyed the film all the more. But there you are; experiences in the dark. What that particular film was I can no longer recall, though I do remember seeing Hammer’s Dracula (1958) (the Horror of Dracula in the USA) for the first time on that particular screen (no videos in those days!) and was very grateful to the Regal for that! - and the Boris Karloff feature Black Sabbath (1963) (a Euro-Horror considered a classic nowadays, directed as it was by Mario Bava!). On this occasion the effective make-you-jump moments were enough to send several teenage girls running for the exit during the Karloff segment (based on Tolstoy's 'The Wurdalak'), causing much murmur and further anticipation amongst the, once again, capacity audience, for possible further shocks to come!

The Regal, Portland, had been built in 1932 and is mainly remembered for its rather specialised entertainment for sailors from the nearby Royal Navy Dockyard as it frequently showed steamy 'X' Certificate films.

Later, like so many cinemas it became a popular Bingo Hall. In the 1990s it had become 'Rumours Nightclub' and featured a large model aircraft hung from the ceiling of the dance floor.

Like so many other buildings on Portland, it caught fire one evening. The burned out hulk disfigured the shopping area until it was demolished and eventually the site was cleared and a small development of houses was built.

The majestic Mr Lee in Hammer's first "Dracula" (1958)

One last note on old cinemas

I have sat in the dark in some real flea-pits in my time. There was one shabby little cinema in Bristol (long gone, I imagine) where I took myself on a Saturday afternoon in 1969 to see a particularly seedy double bill which included Night of the Doomed (aka The Faceless Monster or Nightmare Castle) - now also considered something a classic of 60s European horror). The cinema was tiny. Once you had paid for your ticket through the box office window one stride from the street, you stepped through a tatty old curtain straight into the darkness of the auditorium!



One time in Leyton, East London, the occasional stifled scream (nothing to do with the vintage Hammer film being shown) alerted the rest of us in the meagre early evening audience, to the fact that there were live rats (not a horror movie theatre gimmick!) scurrying about at floor level amongst the discarded sweet wrappers. I spent the whole film with my feet up on the chair in front of me trying to ignore the occasional rustling of silver paper chocolate bar wrappings beneath my seat!

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Memories of Memorabilia

Or A Misspent Youth & Misspent Pocket Money!

Collecting is a kind of malady and is to one man an understandable compulsion, and to another just 'hoarding'! I guess it all starts in childhood with your parents giving you something to keep you quiet. In my case it was probably the scrap book and glue which followed on from the pencil and paper, or crayons and colouring books. The pencil made me an artist, the scrapbook turned me into a collector. It is as simple as that. And today I am still the artist and the collector (just last week a friend accused me of being a hoarder), though not the collector I once was. I have collected many things!

Odeon Cinema, St Thomas Street, Weymouth c1970:
 where a couple of years earlier the doorman gave me a huge
pile of Kinomatograph Weekly from the late 50s and early sixties
featuring classic Hammer news and trade campaigns.



Hooked on Horror:
Myself & a growing horror film collection c.1969:
notice the yellow cover Carlos Clarens and the two issues of Supernatural Horror Filming
created by Tim Stout (1946-2011) it apparently had its launch party in the
basement of the Soho coffee bar, Le Macabre.



Looking back is I know, pure nostalgia. A nostalgia for times past, yes, but also for those things you gave up, gave away, or sometimes simply mislaid. Of course, for the collector there is always a chance one may be offered the opportunity to reclaim something, if the need is felt and the time is right! Old collectors never say die! I am 60 next birthday and look what I found in Weymouth a few weeks ago, in the very street where I spent my paper-round money on exactly this book and other titles 43 years ago:



Arrow Books 1969 edition of Stoker's
'Lair of the White Worm'

My first collected horror film memorabilia, if it didn’t come from the box-office attendant or the doorman of my local Odeon, most certainly came from somewhere in London with the slightly mysterious and far too simple address: The Vault of Horror, London WC1. How I discovered such a source of collectable goodies I no longer recall. But it was to this address I would send my postal order cheques in order to purchase such (at the time) prized items as film 'lobby' stills from The Revenge of Frankenstein, posters from Quatermass II and The Monster That Challenged The World, or my cherished copy of Carlos Clarens' An Illustrated History of the Horror Film (pub.1968). The latter still sits upon my bookshelf.

Amazingly, when you think of it now, Vault of Horror would send a batch of colour film stills from which you could choose those you wished to purchase, trusting you to send the others back!



All these years later I discover the Vault of Horror has its place in the history of what was then surely a vanguard of inspired fantasy fans, collectors, writers, editors, and ultra talented comic artists, many of whom were born around the same year as myself. The list is long and distinguished, and includes the likes of Derek ’Dez’ Skinn (b. Feb 1951), Brian Bolland (b.March 1951), David Pirie (b. 1953), and Alan Moore (b. Nov 1953).  
From such little acorns do Forbidden Planets grow. Yes, The Vault of Horror was for a short lifespan the mail order business of one Derek ‘Bram’ Stokes who, with money loaned to him by his mother, created London’s original Sci-fi bookstore ‘Dark They Were & Golden Eyed’. This later morphed into the fantasy retail empire Forbidden Planet!

Dark They Were & Golden Eyed (established in 1969) had three consecutive locations, the first In a maze of back streets behind the Strand and Charing Cross, the second in Berwick Street at the heart of Soho, and the third and larger location in a cut-through between Wardour Street and Dean Street.

I recall searching for Dark They Were & Golden Eyed (The shop's name was taken from a short story by Ray Bradbury) on a first independent trip to London and on that occasion I recall drinking a coca cola in a Soho coffee bar painted out as a horror crypt, Le Macabre. On the Juke box at the rear of the bar you could select Saint-Saëns’ Danse macabre. Apparently the bar is fondly remembered. It dated back to the early 1950s when Soho became the centre of the beatnik culture in London. Coffee bars such as Le Macabre with its coffin-shaped tables, fostered beat poetry, jive dance and political debate. Around the corner at the '2 i's' Cliff Richard, Adam Faith, Manfred Mann and others were discovered.



A touch of old Soho: Le Macabre coffee house



Derek 'Bram' Stokes had previously ran the horror film fanzine Gothique, a little home-made magazine which I remember sending for from Weymouth. Diane Lister (later Diane Stokes) joined him at Dark They Were & Golden Eyed in 1969 and the shop was managed by fantasy author Stan Nicholls, who had worked with Stokes on Gothique. Nick Landau, founder of Forbidden Planet and Titan Entertainment Group, could apparently be found making use of the shop's hand-cranked duplicator. Of such stuff legends are born! 



Derek 'Bram' Stokes & Diane Lister



Eventually establishing itself after the demise of Dark They Were & Golden Eyed, Forbidden Planet began life in 1978 as a small store in Denmark Street off Charing Cross Road, in the shadow of Centre Point. As the scope of the store expanded beyond comics to embrace film and television, a second store was opened just around the corner on St Giles High Street selling second hand and collectors items. The store's eventual success led to overcrowding, necessitating a move to much larger premises on New Oxford Street.



Forbidden Planet: the original store


In this old photograph of the original Forbidden Planet (taken by Spike McFang) you can see in the window a Judge Dredd poster by Brian Bolland. UK comics wizard Bolland designed numerous "People like us shop at... FORBIDDEN PLANET" adverts for the shop and his artwork also featured on the shops plastic bags, as well on T-Shirts and covers for their SF, comic and TV & film catalogues. (more on Brian Bolland later)

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Prince of Darkness

Prince of Darkness; that's me (excuse the pun!) sitting in the dark at the 'Classic', Weymouth, watching a cavalcade of late-night monsters in the shape of Karloff, Lugosi, Lee and Lon Chaney... but more of that later!

How did I get started? Well, having gorged myself on Famous Monsters of Filmland for several issues, and listened to my father recollecting his boyhood picture-palace memories of watching early Karloff, Rathbone, Lugosi and crew, - an opportunity to go see the newly released Hammer film 'Dracula - Prince of Darkness' at our local cinema was one not to be missed!

Dad would have been pleased enough to yield to the pressure I may well have put upon him during the week leading up to the film's "for-one-week-only" presentation, having seen the first Hammer 'Dracula' seven years earlier.

Convincing him we should go, go we did, - partners in crime indeed, for the law of the land clearly forbade young teenagers (I was thirteen!) the adult content of 'X' certificate movies (more on that later, too).

For my part, to get a taste of what was restricted to "Adults-Only" was a natural enough desire. And at 13, the choice of film genre was without doubt, a leap into independence, individuality and self-determination!
Once at the box-office father stood me to one side whilst he purchased the tickets (having bulked me up first by having me wear an overcoat with heavy scarf). The plan went like a dream and we were in! - And what could I now expect? - What was I letting myself in for? - Could I face up to whatever horrors might constitute an 'X' certificate 'horror movie'? - How horrible would it be? - What possible visually horrific nastiness was I about to witness???
My fears, of course, were unfounded. To say that the experience was a disappointment would be unfair, and yet not wholly inaccurate. "Melodrama" was the closest descriptive word I could find later in the school dictionary, and one I used in my classroom "Show & Tell".
Yes, this was high melodrama, - all rushings around in opera cloaks, accompanied by the sound of crashing thunder and lightning, or racing soundtrack violins, interrupted by moments of unease and anticipation, or surprises guaranteed to make you  jump out of your seat!
Wow, what a recipe! And I was made ready for the feast.
Disappointment not withstanding, the realisation that 'horror' was at its best high flying melodrama, did nothing to deter me from my course. My obsession was already fully formed. All I had to do was look forward to a subsequent diet of Christopher Lee, Peter Cushing, Boris Karloff, Vincent Price, and more of James Bernard's racing violins, or orchestrated D--R--A--C--U--L--A ...
Depending upon your point of view, or your knowledge of Hammer film history, you could say I arrived at a particular point in time lucky enough to appreciate either the pinnacle of Hammer Films' success, or witness their sad decline, fall and ultimate failure. But with Rasputin, The Devil Rides Out, SHE, One Million Years BC, and Frankenstein Created Woman all on the horizon, how could I not go with the first sentiment.
Sitting in the dark would be, for sure, never  quite the same again!



Dracula: Prince of Darkness was a 1966 British horror film directed by Terence Fisher for Hammer Studios. The film was photographed in Techniscope by  Michael Reed, designed by Bernard Robinson and scored by James Bernard.

The film was released as a double feature with The Plague of the Zombies and made back-to-back with Rasputin, the Mad Monk, using many of the same sets and cast.
Note: Hammer marches on... Just a month ago saw the re-issue of Dracula Prince of Darkness on DVD/Blu-ray, a crisp digital restoration delivered by StudioCanal. Sight & Sound reported, "Hovering somewhere on the fringes of eternity, like rubber bats on wires, these films thankfully seem as impervious to the ravages of time and critical opinion as the vampires they entomb."

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Famous Monsters:

Boris Karloff (1887 - 1969)

"Take Me Home...."

“In those days magazines spoke, and that one said,

“take me home little boy, you will love me!”- Forrest J Ackerman describing “Amazing Stories”.

Just as pulp magazines in the 1930s and 40s attracted the eye through colourful, often lurid and sometimes racy, front covers, so Forrest J Ackerman’s FAMOUS MONSTERS OF FILMLAND seduced a whole generation of young readers instantly drawn to the fabulous cover artwork portraying Dracula,  the Phantom of the Opera, Quasimodo, Mr Hyde and the Frankenstein monster - all the film monsters we had ever heard about from our parents, feature-creatures who indeed seemed to mutter, “take me home little boy, you will love me…”

And so I did, having paid my two shillings and six pence, - from the (news) papershop which I find is still a newsagent, on St Edmund Street, just around the corner from Weymouth harbour. And as happened to so many young boys, I was hooked - the horror and monster film would from here on be my “genre” and I, like so many others would for ever after be able to recall “the exact moment they first set eyes on Famous Monsters”.

For me it was in the summer of 1965, the issue was no 33 and I was just twelve years old. How surprised a little later, must my school teachers have been to discover that a whole magazine existed in celebration of the horror movies of an earlier generation, - when I turned up to class with a stack of FMs in order to illustrate my “show & tell” entitled, “Universal Monsters”! - Hooked? - It was for life!



“Once upon a time there was just me collecting things…”
Forrest J Ackerman 

 

Forrest J Ackerman (1916-2008), the boy who never grew up,

(known to his readers as the Ackermonster, "the original geek, the nerd zero, from which every sci-fi or monster fan sprang fully deformed..."), was an American collector of science fiction and fantasy books and movie memorabilia. He was, for over seven decades, one of science fiction's staunchest spokesmen and promoters, and a key figure in the wider cultural perception of science fiction as a literary, art and film genre. Famously he coined the genre nickname "sci-fi". About the world’s first such magazine, monster magazine blogger Mike Scott has written; "The idea for Famous Monsters of Filmland was born during a late 1957 business meeting between James Warren and Forrest J Ackerman. Ackerman had been selling a few articles to Warren for his girly mag After Hours and brought along an issue of the French journal Cinema 57 (no. 20, a history of fantastic cinema), that he picked up on a recent trip to Europe. Warren had been looking for an idea for a one-shot mag and imagined the French tome, translated into English, would fit the bill nicely." Aware of the recent resurgence in popularity of the old horror films with kids across the USA (via the Screen Gems TV package "Shock"), Warren decided, continues Scott, "to gear the mag to young readers, using plenty of humour to leaven the horror (as the TV "horror hosts" were doing). Forry Ackerman was quite up to the challenge and was chosen to be the editor and principle writer (and supplier of stills from his vast collection). Getting backing and a distributor proved to be a little more difficult, but a deal with Kable News was struck and the mag went out to the newsstands in Feb. of 1958 and was a sell out, requiring a second printing to be done." 

Thus was born the first true "monster magazine" and the Warren Publishing empire (which included Spacemen, Famous Westerns of Filmland, Screen Thrills Illustrated, Creepy, Eerie, Vampirella and other titles). Many imitators would follow, but few would match the success of FAMOUS MONSTERS OF FILMLAND.

Journalist Robert Greenberger maintains, “Famous Monsters of Filmland, in many ways, shaped the movies we are watching today. The likes of Steven Spielberg, John Landis, Peter Jackson and George Lucas were all fans of the magazines in the days before there were even books on the subject of movie monsters and filmmaking.”

"He's never given up being the boy of all time." - Ray Bradbury on Forrest J Ackerman

Sitting In The Dark...

This Blog has been inspired by a recent visit to Weymouth in Dorset, England, the town where I spent my teens, and the realisation that Forrest J Ackerman was responsible for my misspent youth, - that is, for all those fabulous hours in darkened cinemas watching "famous monsters"... Watch This Space....