Centre Theatre, 1939–56
Welcome to modernity and a new era in Peterborough film exhibition: The opening of the Centre Theatre
“Strikingly modern is the new marque and brilliantly colored Neon sign at the new Centre Theatre . . . .”
“The bright illuminated front is a worthy addition to the twinkling array of neons and other electric signs which in recent years have multiplied to make George Street at night a miniature Broadway. Hundreds of light bulbs are used in the new arrangement and it is clearly visible up and down the main street.” Examiner, Feb. 28, 1939, p.11.
“The movies are one of the great cultural influences of our time, carrying their messages about politics, manners, speech and social attitudes around the world in the most palatable form. The cultural products of ages of development . . . are hard-pressed to compete with them. Considering this, it is a pity that the movies take their responsibilities so lightly.” – Examiner, editorial, Oct. 24, 1945, p.4.
Sydney Goldstone and Trio Theatres Ltd decide to renovate
In the late 1930s the Grand Opera House was a more or less empty, forlorn space. For well over thirteen years, too, the old Royal Theatre site at 346—48 George Street had “been a dead spot in the heart of the business section.” But the movie exhibition scene was about to shift back, for at least a time, to something closer to the earlier days — from strictly corporate to the relatively local.
With a few years left in the decade two veteran independent theatre owners decided to jump in and fill the gap. Sam Ulster, owner of the Embassy Theatre in Toronto and a prominent figure on the board of the Independent Theatres Association of Ontario, had joined forces with Sydney Goldstone, owner and manager of Toronto’s Rex Theatre. Their company, Trio Theatres Co., purchased the Royal Theatre in spring 1937 from the Stratton Estate. The worst of the Depression appeared to be over; it seemed time for a new venture.
Plans for a new theatre “in the thriving industrial city of Peterboro” had been announced as early as May 1937. For Ulster and Goldstone, the duo who led Trio, the opening followed two other theatres established in the previous two years in Ottawa and London. After the relatively dormant years of the depression, economic conditions had slowly improved, and theatre building in general was on the increase in Ontario.
Ulster sweetened the deal by declaring that his company had chosen Peterborough as an additional site “because of the financial stability of the city, and because throughout the province it is regarded as one of the leading and most progressive of the smaller cities.”
Given the block’s public ownership as overseen by the Peterborough City Trust, council had passed a bylaw granting the company a generous lease for a term of twenty-one years, at a yearly rental rate of “at least” $800 (plus taxes and all local rates and assessments). Trio, for its part, stated that it had bought the property.
Goldstone promised early on that the new theatre would be “one of the finest theatres in eastern Ontario.” Toronto architect Jay Isadore English redesigned the existing structure and supervised construction; over his career English designed a long list of theatres, including the Odeon Carlton Theatre in Toronto (1947–48), the flagship of the Odeon chain, and Peterborough’s own Odeon (opened December 1947). The original aim was to open in late autumn 1938, perhaps around Christmas, but the work did not happen quite that quickly.
On an otherwise dreary day at the beginning of March 1939, Ulster switched on the power. After weeks of preparation at a cost of $40,000, a brilliant, brightly coloured theatre marquee announced a sparkling new presence – joining, as the Examiner reported, “the twinkling array of neons and other electric signs” up and down the main street. The “hundreds of light bulbs” used in the new façade were “clearly visible up and down the main street.” For a property said to have been “dark since the days of silent films,” the flick of the switch represented a magical twist in the local theatre-going plot.
“A paradise playhouse that radiates comfort and restfulness . . .”
The “New Centre Theatre” (as it was called for a while, although the marquee had, simply, “Centre”) was pronounced a “Worthy Addition” to the city.
The theatre came with two small stores built into its front section (not unlike the makeup of the Grand Opera House): on the north side, a tobacco store; and to the south a candy store and nut shop — The Nuttery — which would provide ready treats for those going to or from a moving picture show.
As the Examiner put it, “Completion of the theatre will brighten that section of the city considerably and generally improve the business section along the east side of George street.”
The gala opening drew notable out-of-town “celebrities,” including O.J. Silverthorne, chairman of the Ontario Board of Moving Picture Censors; and president Harry Firestone and past-president Hyman Freedman of the Independent Theatres Association of Ontario (which included Ulster on its board). Freedman was owner of the Circle, a small Toronto neighbourhood theatre on Yonge Street north of Eglinton – and would prove to have another, more direct, link with the Centre Theatre half a decade later.
Ulster lavished praise on city alderman Roland Glover (formerly not just the owner of the Examiner but also a partner in the Grand Opera House). Glover was “a prince” for his efforts to smooth out problems in establishing the new venture. Ulster also took care to mention the co-operation and “friendly hospitality” of the downtown’s merchants. He was sure that the opening of the new theatre would bring more business to them, including visits from many more people from the outlying districts.
Air-conditioning, the latest in seating, and a charming interior
The Examiner’s hefty coverage of the March opening boasted of its up-to-date equipment (including projection and sound, “the latest thing in the realm of talking pictures”), perfect acoustics, and large downstairs cloakroom (and check-room in which patrons could deposit parcels if they’d been shopping, or heavy overcoats in cold weather). It had, they boasted, luxurious seating. The “genuine Marshall” spring cushion seats (with metal backs) were “roomy” and “streamlined and scientifically built to give the most comfort.” (Peterborough’s Centre was said to be among the first to get these chairs.)
The theatre seats, supplied and installed by the Canadian Theatre Chair Company in Toronto, were “streamlined and scientifically built to give maximum comfort.”
“The seats by their construction fit the body in a way to give absolute satisfaction. . . . Leather on the seats is in two colors, scarlet and green, with the colors in a staggered pattern to give more beauty to the whole layout. The seats are trimmed with polished chrome and the ashtrays [in the balcony] are in chrome and green. The balcony has been completely rebuilt and the slant permits a clear view from the front row of seats to the back.”
Plus, for the first time a local theatre was providing air-conditioning. In case people were not familiar with this technology, the paper explained how it “assures the patrons of a warm even temperature in the Winter and a cool invigorating atmosphere during the hot summer months.”
The theatre’s “charming interior” – with a tidy application of pastel shades – would make the place “as restful as an apple orchard in blossom time.” The building was said to be “fireproof throughout.”
Gone were the “old fashioned chandeliers and drop lights” of the Royal, replaced with modern neon lighting. “In the auditorium all lighting is indirect, coming from hidden slots in the side-walls and the colors have been tastefully chosen to get the maximum in harmony from the decorative scheme.”
Theatre-goers would experience “a pleasant feeling” as they entered “the house of entertainment” thanks to a new foyer and lobby that were “both roomy and artistically decorated.” The theatre had a drinking fountain, another relatively new fixture, inside the doors. The balcony was completely rebuilt.
Washrooms, and goldfish
As for its restrooms, well, both men and women would be able to “recline in comfortable leather chairs and chesterfields while waiting for friends,” amidst a “beautiful decorative scheme of green and eggshell.” The “ladies” would also appreciate a cosmetic room, with long mirrors and small chairs. Not only that:
“Washrooms for men and women have terrazzo floors and are gleaming white, at opposite ends of [the] main waiting room. A large aquarium built into the wall adds an interesting touch to the rest room. Gold fish and other small marine life will be kept in the large tank, and the tank itself will be flanked with ferns and other different varieties of flowering plants. In the centre of the foyer and inside the door leading from the lobby is a drinking fountain built into the wall.”
Over the following years the aquarium, with its goldfish, albinos, fantails, and other species, proved to be a popular fixture – too popular, as it turned out. Owner/manager Harry Yudin told Examiner editor Robertson Davies that patrons of the theatre sometimes threw refuse into the tank. In 1946 a city police constable who just happened to be walking downstairs noticed a woman going up. She was holding an old peanut-butter cardboard container half-filled with water with a small goldfish “nestling at the bottom.” The officer dutifully made her return it to its proper home. A theatre manager admitted that fish poaching was a recurring problem; 123 of the fish had gone missing by that point, and by no means all by natural causes.
Smoking in the loges, please
The 602 seats included 202 in the loges, or balcony. This was a special place, with a higher ticket price, where smoking was permitted – “something very new in Peterborough but fairly common in larger centres.” Those seats were equipped with smoke-proof ashtrays (with lids) attached to the back of every seat and “cleverly arranged so that no person is sitting directly behind the person in front and assuring everyone of a fine view of the screen.” The loge area even had eight special seats equipped with head phones for those who were “a little hard of hearing.”
Patrons taking the stairs to the balcony would find decently wide treads “and low steps to eliminate the danger of stumbling.” The theatre’s exits on both sides at the front of the main floor were considerably wider than usual, with equally wide and clear corridors leading out onto the Market Square at the back of the theatre. The doors to the exits “swing outward whenever the least pressure is put on the crossbar, while the drapes over the inner doors swing on a pivel arm promptly if they are touched.”
“Modern in every respect” — low ticket prices — but still no snack bar
John Shearer, of River Road, Peterborough, did the wiring, and Peterborough’s Brinton Carpet supplied the “rich, deep pile carpets” (“dyed to match the general decorative scheme”).
Notable by its absence in the newspaper coverage was any mention of a “concession stand” or snack bar; that huge money-maker was not yet part of the movie-going experience, at least in Peterborough; but then for about ten years hungry patrons could easily seek out the nut shop located just next door in the same building — until it moved down George Street to a position on the west side south of Charlotte.
Despite its gala opening, the Centre’s owners were, wisely, not competing with the top-line attractions of the Capitol. From the start the Centre specialized in double features. (For a sampling of the theatre’s ads and programs, see “The 1940s: War, Prosperity, and ‘a Miniature Broadway’” and “1950s—60s: Theatres, They Come and They Go.”)
If management booked a “big feature,” it would usually be a re-run, screened with another film, and weeks or months after an initial showing at the Capitol. Still, throughout its history, the bookers would also present films skipped over by the other theatres, offering a variety of features that would not otherwise have been available.
The theatre opened with a film drama of political corruption, The Great Man Votes, an RKO Radio Pictures released just two months earlier (starring John Barrymore), plus the older romantic comedy There Goes My Girl (1937). Ticket prices were modest – advertised as “the lowest admission prices” in town – with seats going for 10 and 20 cents at matinees, and 15 and 20 cents in the evenings; seats in loges were 30 cents.
The double feature on the marquee in that postcard and photo — the far-from-recent Star of Midnight (1935) and The Lost Patrol (1934, directed by John Ford) — played at the Centre from July 10 to 12, 1939.
Continuous shows, live entertainment, and personal service
The “New Centre,” as it was initially called, introduced another innovation. Unlike the other two theatres in town, its shows would run continuously, starting at 1:30 p.m. (with doors opening at 1:00) and going until closing time in the late evening. It proved to be a successful policy, and the Regent and Capitol soon followed suit. “We are certain,” said Ulster, “that with reduced prices bringing entertainment within the reach of many families with limited incomes that our expenditure will be fully justified.”
Goldstone moved to Peterborough to be manager of the theatre. He would employ eight people – three ushers, a doorman-janitor, a ticket seller, and three operators (or projectionists), with all of the staff initially hired living in town. By July Goldstone was announcing that the Centre had seen “good business” since its opening.
By September 1940 the Examiner was pronouncing: “Peterborough is particularly fortunate in having three up-to-date theatres, and first-run pictures can be seen here as early as they are shown in the larger cities.”
The Centre, like the Capitol, had live performances on its stage, and after it opened William John Murray Gibson (known as both “Curley” and “Jack”), was placed in charge of a “one night a week” stage show as master of ceremonies. Already well known as a local singer and entertainer, in 1940 Gibson became a doorman and assistant manager. He left the theatre, and Peterborough, in 1947.
In addition to Gibson, the Centre staff in those early years of the 1940s included projectionists John J. (Paddy) Cooke and C. Lloyd Newton, cashiers Dorothy L. Whately and Renee de la Plante, and ushers Gordon Haylock, Leonard Mahood, William Begley, Jr., Murray Easton, and Albert J. Warne.
William G. Fredenburg and Mrs. Pearl O’Brien were caretakers. In 1943 Margaret Howe, who had been widowed in 1937 and had a young son to support, joined the Centre as an usher (she was related to another staffer, Albert Warne). She would soon become a cashier and remain in that position at various downtown theatres for well over thirty years.
Gus Leonard, a local multi-sports (but especially hockey) legend who went on to become a member of the Peterborough and District Sports Hall of Fame, apparently worked there as well. After Leonard’s death at age ninety-seven in 1997 a sports writer recalled that the star’s “first job . . . was ‘sweeping out the old Centre Theatre each night after the last show.’” He also worked at the Dominion Woolens and the Toronto-Peterborough Transport Co.
Now there were three (theatres)
For a city and outskirts population of just over 25,000, Peterborough would now have, for a few years at least, three theatres — Capitol (1,107 seats), Regent (570), and Centre (602) — with a total of roughly 2,279 seats, and in a decade of rising attendance they would all prove necessary.
A change of ownership: Harry (Hilly) Yudin takes over
The firm mysteriously cited as “Trio Theatre Co. of Peterboro, Ontario” remained in place for about six and a half years. In autumn 1945 partners Sam Ulster and Sydney Goldstone sold the theatre to a family group led by a well-established Toronto theatre owner, Hyman Freedman (the same who had been at the Centre’s opening in 1939), along with his son Sam and son-in-law Harry Yudin and another associate, Benjamin Pape. The main players had extensive experience in running small independent (as opposed to corporate-owned) theatres. At least one source gives the name of the company they operated under as Niagara Centre Theatres, but the 1954-55 Canadian Film Weekly Yearbook identifies it as Peterboro Centre Theatre Ltd.
Harry Yudin, with his wife and young family, moved to Peterborough to manage the theatre (buying a house on Gilmour Street), and would become immensely popular around town. Working with his associates in Toronto, most particularly Harry Rosenberg (who helped with bookings), Yudin made the most of the “independent” status of his theatre. From time to time he brought in out-of-the-ordinary films that would otherwise not have appeared (something like the repertory cinemas of later years), such as the distinguished version of Henry V in 1947. Moreover, the theatre adopted an occasional film roadshow policy, bringing in films for a one-day engagement, with advanced ticket sales and all seats reserved. The program centred on an unusual series of “opera” pictures — starting in April 1949 with Beniamino Gigli in Laugh Pagliacci and continuing regularly through the following years. Special Saturday shows for children were regular events. Big Hollywood hits (often shown well past their prime) with a mix of westerns and sensational human dramas formed the standard programming, with a number of surprises along the way.
Clare Galvin (of The Barclay clothing store) remembered those days in his memoir The Days of My Years:
“Ben Epstein [Epston] owned The Nuttery in the new Centre Theatre, and it was here you bought your peanuts or cashews before attending the movies. The Centre, managed by Hilly Yuden, was a glitzy new kind of theatre with double features and plush seats. There were fluorescent lights in the downstairs lounge, and blue water in the toilet bowls. How snazzy can you get?”
The city’s “only independent theatre” — adding a snack bar and responding to television
By 1950, with the Regent gone and the Odeon and Paramount newly established, the Centre was being identified as “the only independent theatre in Peterborough” and “owned and operated by H.M. Yudin.” Yudin briefly had Ernest Finnie as assistant manager (in 1951) before bringing in James M. Fox, who was co-manager by 1952 and later the manager outright. Fox was experienced: he had been working for Canadian Odeon and had also spent time as manager of the Rexy in Ottawa. Also on staff in the 1950s were Max Fredenburg, usher and/or doorman, Murray Long and Robert Micks, projectionists, Marion Simmons, cashier, and Robert Cleveland and Robert Clifford, maintenance.
The Odeon Theatre (established late 1947) had a concession booth, and the Centre followed suit by putting one in around May 1948. (The Capitol didn’t get a “candy bar” until 1950.) Now there could be popcorn with the movies, and perhaps The Nuttery lost some business.
The Centre had been the first theatre to introduce air-conditioning, among other fixtures, and in the 1950s it had another couple of “firsts,” both as part of a strategy to counter the inroads of television and to bring people out of their homes.
In May 1953 it was the first theatre in town to show a 3-D movie.
Even more surprisingly, it was the first of the four existing theatres to follow another trend — switching to a wider screen. In October 1953 the Centre installed a "Panoramascope” screen, replacing a 13-ft. by 10½-ft. screen with one roughly 22 by 13½. In taking this step Yudin was roundly congratulated by his downtown peers.
The Centre Theatre closes its doors
It appears that Harry Yudin quietly left town around 1953–54, leaving James Fox in charge; and his small company’s theatre — this ultramodern, sparkling addition to downtown — would not make it to its twentieth birthday. By the time I and hundreds of other faithful youngsters were going there for boisterous Saturday afternoons in the 1950s, it had lost its lustre – though, by that time, it was selling plenty of popcorn.
A “Special Announcement” in early February 1956 introduced “new low prices” and other changes: “The Finest Programme at the Lowest Prices in Peterborough.” But the change was apparently not enough.
On Friday, Aug. 17, 1956, the theatre abruptly announced that it was closing after the last show of the very next day. The spokesperson for the closure was Benjamin Pape, a Toronto accountant who along with Yudin and others had been a member of the Peterborough Centre Theatre Ltd. group that had taken over the house in 1945.
The reason publicly given was a “lack of business,” although that was not apparent on the well-attended Saturday matinees.
“We are going the way of all flesh,” Pape said. The reason for the closing was “simple” – “We are losing money and we don’t want to lose any more.” The theatre’s demise was attributed to the advent in town of the two new theatres, the Odeon (1947) and Paramount (1948). The older Regent Theatre had already been closed in 1949; the larger Capitol — with a large corporate backing — had now moved into the Centre’s second-run double-feature territory. Pape had decided that the Centre could no longer “fight the elements.” He added: “The motion picture industry has got to the extent that all the good pictures are taken by the larger houses.”
From the start the Centre had screened double features – sometimes upped to triple features by the mid-1950s. Although it had its small share of first runs – including those popular “opera pictures” and the likes of The Mozart Story (1948) or Olivier’s Henry V (1944), movies that would not otherwise have been seen — its mostly second-run offerings (now at cheaper prices) tended to arrive after being screened at the other theatres only a few weeks or months before.
As of Monday, August 20, 1956, then, this once-shining gem, the “worthy addition to Main Street” was gone. Its low-budget or second-run movies (including B Westerns) had proven unable to compete with the newer Odeon and Paramount theatres, or even the aging but larger Capitol. Its last ad appeared on Saturday, August 18, featuring not a double but a triple bill: the three-year-old Raiders of the Seven Seas (with John Payne and Donna Reed), The Yellow Tomahawk (1954, with Rory Calhoun), and Khyber Patrol (1954, with Richard Egan). A previous program, on August 15, had featured the even older The Hunchback of Notre Dame (1939, with Charles Laughton) and The Golden Blade (1953, with Rock Hudson and Piper Laurie). On June 6 that same year, amazingly, and regrettably, the historic but thoroughly racist The Birth of a Nation (1915) made yet another stop in town. Towards the end the theatre’s billing proclaimed “Action and Comedy for All Ages.”
As announced, after its last program ended on the evening of Saturday, August 18, 1956, the Centre closed its doors.
After its closing, the theatre sat there on its spot for another year or so, boarded up and unused, before the wreckers arrived. For almost half a century — since December 1908 — the site at 346—48 George Street had been occupied by a movie theatre. Plans were now being made for the building to be remodelled, with the site to be occupied by three stores.
A reporter exploring the building in July 1957 found plenty of dust and years of wear and tear, with scattered remnants of the past everywhere.
“In a dark little room behind the screen hangs an old usher’s coat and a pile of stiff, dirty collars. On the third floor, directly above the seats, years-old posters still cry out the virtues of the time-worn and forgotten ‘never to be forgotten’, ‘immortal’ movies of the day.”
In the projection room, years of grease and oil made walking on the floor a slippery adventure. The reporter found “endless inspection reports” hanging on the walls, and a “battered” record player with discarded recordings of “The Thing” and “Liberty Bell.” He added: “Burned sticks of carbon from the projectors are scattered everywhere.”
Outside, the weather-beaten marquee was showing signs of its age, with peeling paint and broken glass panels. The glass in the admissions booth had been smashed. Vandals had entered and ripped the curtains, yanked out the cash drawer, and thrown the cashier’s chair out into the lobby.
A year or two later the building was home to a shoe store and drapery shop. In the 1970s the whole block (except for the Market Hall on the corner) was torn down to make way for Peterborough Square.