Page 30 - CINEMARECORD-100

Patron Peter Smith OAM remembers…

was very much a child of the Saturday matinee. They were those wonderful pre-television
Idays when the cinema experience became a virtual window on the world for a young child
growing up in St. Kilda. It really didn’t matter if your experience was confined to the vastness
of the Palais Pictures or the Victory, or attending pop up portable movies at the local hall in
Torquay; once the lights dimmed you were witness to all that a large square-shaped screen had
to offer.
So even though a feature film like The Perils of Pauline or The Big Store had long finished its
sixth or seventh suburban revival; it mattered not. It was all new to the young folk who
considered the true main attraction to be the Columbia or Republic serials consisting of fifteen
episodes ensuring you came back week after week to see if the hero would finally escape. Then
of course there were the cartoons, and depending on what cinema you attended, the short
featurettes with dare I say, my favourite: the Pete Smith Specialties. Thanks to cable TV they
still live on today.
I also attended the Saturday evening session at the Palais where my parents had permanent
bookings, ensuring they had the same luxurious seats in the front row of the lounge. Mind you
it didn’t matter where you were seated; you were still treated to free passive smoking, until the
practice was outlawed in the early fifties. And what a thrill in later years to be witness to a
running of the Melbourne Cup, rushed to your local cinema on the Thursday night following
the actual race the previous Tuesday. How immediate was that?

Of course we were spoiled being Palais patrons; witnessing a full live show on stage thanks
to local artists and Harry Jacobs and the Palais Orchestra. Add to that a newsreel and supporting feature and it’s a wonder we ever made it home
before the early hours of the morning. But such was the cinema going experience of the late forties and fifties.

Perhaps what set me apart from the other kids busy cheering the hero and hissing the man in the cape was the ritual of looking back up at the light
source in the bio box. Looking back to that magical room filled with the smell of carbon arcs and the rattle of the 35 mm film making its way from
top spool to bottom. For me this was pure romance and the closest I could ever get to the Hollywood movie making machine. What a thrill to be able
to explore the room alongside the bio box too; delving into the old equipment long since abandoned. Equipment that had originally made the movies
talk. This was the “non sync” room where 16 inch transcription discs provided the soundtrack via a turntable geared back through the wall to the
projector. Non-synchronous it certainly was; a far cry from the sophisticated sound we experience today.

In the sixties a new beginning was on the doorstep, at least for the Palais. The traditionally projected image from the bio box in the dome was delivered
to the screen on such a sharp angle of angle; completely unacceptable for the wide screen of Cinemascope. As a result; a new projection room was
built much further back at the rear of the dress circle. The old projection room became a spot box for the wonderful live shows that were to follow
some years later.
Having access to these secret places came easy for a young boy accepted as almost part of the family, especially by the Phillips brothers, Harold and
Leon and long-time projectionist Albert Wright who, on leaving the Capitol in the city went on to serve over forty years at the Palais. One of my
earliest thrills was walking high up above the stalls around the dome, inspecting the superb art work, much of it created in wax.

The Palais had its own distinctive curtains; superb silver curtains that opened side-ways. In front was a beautiful crimson act drop and still further
forward; a fire curtain that had to be raised by hand prior to every screening, the Palais having been registered as a legitimate theatre.
On some infrequent occasions I would sneak away to the Memo (the Memorial Hall) another Phillips brothers operated venue on the other side of
Luna Park where so-called B-grade features were screened. It was here where, following their city run at venues like the Lyceum; such fright features
as Frankenstein and House Of Dracula scared the life out of me.
While these reminiscences are only brief, readers will recall their own first-time experiences at the cinema and over the years CinemaRecord has
provided a constant and continuous overview of all things theatrical, covering all the many and varied aspects of the theatre and cinema experience.
CinemaRecord has rightly become a valuable asset in documenting what is truly a proud and rich heritage of all things associated with Australian
entertainment.

th
With this milestone 100 edition, long may the tradition continue.★

30 CINEMARECORD # 100