The Capitol, 1921–61
“During World War II, movies provided a diversion from the unrelenting demands of the time. Movies were also used to stimulate patriotic feelings, and this was probably the case with ‘Siege of Leningrad’ which attracted this large audience to the old Capitol theatre.” — GE Canada, “Standards of the Highest” from Edison to GE Canada, Peterborough 1891—1991, p.22.
In eastern Canada, ground has been broken at Peterboro, Ontario, for a new $250,000 picture theatre which will be built by the Paramount Peterboro Theatres, Ltd., a subsidiary of the Famous Players Corporation. This will have a seating capacity of 1,150 and will have a fully equipped stage. It is planned to open next May. – “Famous Players Canadian Corporation Plans Seventeen Large New Theatres,” — Moving Picture World, Dec. 25, 1920, p.901.
The Capitol Theatre – the closest thing Peterborough ever had to a “movie palace” – would turn out to be one of the city’s longest-running movie theatres, surviving for just over forty years. It was also the city’s first theatre under foreign control.
Famous Players Canadian Corporation, of Toronto, under managing director Nathan L. Nathanson, was busy building up a lengthy and profitable chain of moving picture theatres across the country, many of them with the name “Capitol.”
The Nathanson company was largely “backed by capitalists,” said the industry trade magazine Moving Picture World around that time, “who have provided their own funds largely for new theatres.” In the early 1920s Famous Players Canadian made much of having approximately 1,700 shareholders, 95 per cent of them Canadian citizens.
Still, this highly touted Canadian presence was vertically integrated with Hollywood’s Paramount and under the sway not just of Nathanson but also of Hollywood mogul Adolph Zukor, the first president of the Canadian company and the owner, over time, of most of its issued shares. As writer Kirwan Cox concludes: “The Canadian market was never again in Canadian hands. Money from the Canadian box office went unhindered into New York to support American production.” Overseeing production, distribution, and exhibition, Zukor determined what would be seen in Canadian theatres. Nathanson, as Cox points out, “didn’t like competition in any form, and broke more than one independent theatre owner as Famous Players grew.”
The company’s goal at the beginning of the decade was “to have fifty large and attractive houses from coast to coast,” and it was planting them in locations that were in close competition with the Allen theatres. Peterborough had one of those, the Allen (1919–21), and it would soon have a Capitol Theatre too.
After establishing four large Capitol theatres in Vancouver, Calgary, Regina, and Montreal, Nathanson hired a Toronto architect, C.W. Jeffrey, to design a “second tier” of theatres in six or seven other locations, one of which was Peterborough. All of the theatres would have full stages, allowing “elaborate prologues for all picture attractions” and lively “musical and dancing numbers in conjunction with picture programs.”
The Capitol Theatre opened slightly ahead of schedule and amidst much fanfare on Monday, April 18, 1921, at 306–8 George Street N. in what had previously been an unnumbered vacant space (with “Billboards” going back as far as 1910). Its neighbour on the north was the stylish Barrie Building, which had opened at 310–14 in spring 1915. To the south, at no. 294–300, was the Aaron Comstock furniture and undertaking business, and below that, the Grand Opera House.
In addition to its 1,150 seats on a main floor and balcony, the Capitol boasted “artistic lighting effects” and “exceptionally decorative” fixtures. The projection booth had two Simplex machines and a spotlight “for singing and vaudeville use.” The front of the house staff – a doorman and five ushers – sported uniforms that provided “a neat effect in brown, gold, and red.”
Assorted dignitaries arrived for the opening, including John C. Green, the Ontario district manager for Famous Players Canadian theatres – the same Green who had participated in July 1896 film presentations in Ottawa’s West End Park and was an itinerant exhibitor in earlier days (as well as a magician).
Paramount’s electrical expert, Charles Dentlook, also came to town for the opening. The resident manager, Edward Abbey, arrived with a “large and varied experience in theatrical work.” He would not be in town all that long. Under corporate ownership the theatre would see five different managers come and go in the first seven years: Abbey (1921–22), Harold R. Hitchinson (1923–24), John C. Kennedy (1924–25), Albert (Bert) G. Crowe (1925–26), and Jas. D. Fletcher (1926–28). A popular sixth manager, John (Jack) A. Stewart, would stay on considerably longer (1928–36).
Some “hundreds of people” arrived early at the box office to purchase tickets for the “Grand Opening.” With a program scheduled for 8:00 p.m. (and an orchestra prologue for 7:45), the house was reportedly sold out before six o’clock, and hundreds of late-comers were turned away.
One of the Capitol’s first employees, Henry W. Ristow, had come to town in 1918–19 and worked as a “machinist” for a couple of years until finding a job as projectionist at the Grand Opera House. He remained at the Capitol until his death in the early 1940s.
A few days after the theatre opened it was advertising its “Capitol Theatre Concert Orchestra,” with eight members, and reminded readers that its group was supplying “much the best music in the city.” Musicians from Galt were brought to town in June 1922. As the Examiner noted, “One often hears of people going to the theatre to hear the orchestra just as much as to see the pictures.” Florence Gladman, a music teacher (she had worked at the Conservatory of Music in 1918), was hired as pianist and by 1923 was leading the orchestra, which played for evening programs and at Saturday matinees.
From the start the theatre featured vaudeville acts along with the first-run pictures. Soon after the opening, in May, it was Wee Sandy MacPherson, eight years old, with his songs, dances, and Scotch stories. The theatre continued to have live on-stage acts long after the arrival of the “talkies.”
The Capitol under Famous Players would claim it had the best of everything – including the best projectors (carefully chosen and operated to prevent eye strain) and an emphasis on courtesy. “Musical settings for the picture are given as much attention in arranging as was the actual selection of the picture itself.”
By 1924, for hot summer nights – in the age before air-conditioning – the theatre was “chilled” with the help of a “monster fan” positioned “high in the loft of the theatre, over the gold leaf dome in the ceiling,” and a “giant turbine fan in the basement.”
With lights dipped a rich cool green, the immense windows on either side of the proscenium arch showing a restful deep blue, and three giant fans working, the Capitol Theatre offers an inviting and cool retreat during the warm days of the summer months. Despite the heat the Capitol will always be found to be many degrees cooler than the outside.
With the coming of the Capitol, as crowds were told, Peterboronians would “no longer have to travel far afield” to see the big films – even though the Grand Opera House had been showing “big films” for years. Now local people could rest assured at least that they would get a chance to enjoy, as soon as prints made it possible, the films that people in other cities of a similar size were seeing.
As one reassuring ad put it, “In other cities” Foolish Wives (1922, directed by Erich von Stroheim) had “broken all records and nothing spells the fact of Peterboro’s progess quite so much as this presentation of the most talked of picture of the hour.”
When Nell Shipman’s film The Girl from God’s Country (1921) arrived early on in the Capitol’s life, in November 1921, the front of the theatre received special treatment — with decorations giving the theatre a log cabin, “God’s Country” look.
While films such as The Girl from God’s Country received considerable publicity, for a Harold Lloyd movie a couple of years later the local advertising — emphasizing connections with community leaders, and hoping others would follow — pulled out all the stops.
The Capitol Theatre introduced talkies in June 1929 (followed quickly by the city’s only other theatre, the Regent) and suffered through the Depression years of the 1930s like all other businesses. It helped that movies were easily amongst the cheapest form of amusement in a cash-starved era. To draw crowds, like other theatres the Capitol began to program double features and thrived on giveaways and special gimmicks – or benefit shows on New Year’s Eves and other special occasions aimed at raising much needed money for unemployment relief.
As if to punctuate the transition to sound, by mid-September 1929 the Capitol was sporting a new flashing neon sign above its entrance, with the theatre’s name spelled out in huge, unmistakable letters – adding, said the Examiner, yet another “bright touch to the evening illumination of Peterborough’s main thoroughfare.” The initiative drew the attention of the U.S. trade magazine Motion Picture News, which saw the efforts of manager Jack Stewart as something quite wondrous (although from their editorial perch in New York City they gave the name of Stewart’s city as “Cedarboro, Ontario”). The theatre’s location near the intersection of Charlotte and George was the place, the magazine said, “where practically all of the traffic from the main highway enters the city.” The new sign had the advantage of “directing attention towards the theatre itself to motorists who are entering the city on other business than amusement.”
In November 1931 painters and decorators once again took over the theatre to refresh its appearance. New carpets were installed, the heating system brought up to date, electrical fixtures made more decorative, and the entrance lobby and mezzanine floor, including the ladies’ and gentlemen’s lounges, were resurfaced and refurnished. The “ladies’ room” now had “two gorgeous cosmetic tables of the Art Moderne type.” It was all quite a thing of beauty, as the Examiner reported:
A gilt-brocaded settee is a high light of the ladies’ room, where there is a “No Smoking” sign displayed prominently. Here, too, are the delicate pictures, the gilt-threaded curtains, the rose carpet and the richly upholstered chairs that blend in beautifully with the whole attractive scheme. The walls are furnished in rose.
Adding a new formality to the experience of moviegoing, a pair of “delicately lovely silver curtains” now stretched across the area of the screen. The curtains would be slowly pulled open as the main feature began and then “just as slowly” withdrawn at its close. Most notably, according to the Examiner’s report, was “the construction of an entirely new type of marquee” situated above the entrance ticket booth, stated to be “the first of its kind in the Dominion” – with 1,500 electric lights to “blazon forth the names of feature pictures outside the theatre.”
After the Capitol Theatre’s December 1931 redecoration the newspaper pronounced: “Depression doesn’t mean anything, apparently, to this gay amusement place, as its ideas are fairly extravagant. Thousands of dollars have been spent in refurnishing and re-decorating the big playhouse and the result is extremely satisfying.”
In the heat of the summer of 1932, the Capitol adopted a ploy seen countless times over past decades: “Attend the matinees – or the first of the evening performances if possible and avoid standing in line.” In the summer of 1933, with the Depression showing no signs of abating, “large crowds, matinee and night,” came out to “greet” the opening of the quintessential depression picture Gold Diggers of 1933 (and, as the Examiner’s film reviewer “Jeanette” put it, “the audience appeared to greet it like an old friend.”)
The theatre’s staff ranged from six employees in 1931 to eight or nine in the following years up to 1937 — although most likely a good number of other part-time staff went unlisted if not unnoticed. As of April 1937 the staff included A.E. Cauley, manager; G.D. (Gordon) Beavis, assistant manager; Margaret Allen, cashier; “Teddy” Crowe, maintenance; Harry Ristow, chief projectionist; Emile Baumer, assistant projectionist; Tom Stenton, relief projectionist; Robert Naples, doorman; Joe O’Toole, chief usher; and Johnny Watson, Phil Ristow, Sloan Cauley, Jack Kennedy, Morris Dixon, ushers. Beavis departed in February 1939 to take up the position of manager of the Royal Theatre in North Bay; he later became supervisor of Odeon Theatres in Ottawa. While in Peterborough he was a popular figure, with his “cordially obliging manner” in dealing with patrons and business associates.
By spring 1937 the Capitol was celebrating sixteen years of existence. When it opened the city had four other theatres showing moving pictures: the Regent, Empire, Allen/Royal, and Grand Opera House. Now only the Regent remained in competition. For readers out there who dine on statistics, an Examiner reporter estimated that in the 832 weeks of its operation the theatre had screened around 2,500 feature pictures, along with hundreds of newsreels and comedies (not to mention quite a few other varieties of “shorts”). And, always, there was music.
At the Canned Food Matinee on Saturday morning, Dec. 11, 1935, children got in free with an admission of one or more cans or bags of food, to be distributed to families on relief. Some 1,100 attended the matinee, depositing over two thousand food items in the lobby, including over $100 of canned good, vegetables, bread, and sealers of fruit and pickles, all to be passed on to the city’s Relief department.
The Capitol got the “big” movies, such as A Star Is Born (1937), Wizard of Oz, and Gone with the Wind (both 1939), among many others. The Regent — under the same corporate hands by the late 1930s — tended to get cheaper, more secondary fare, as did the Centre Theatre after opening in 1939. Both the Regent and Centre would do reruns of movies, “at popular prices” — pictures usually shown originally at the Capitol. A visit to the Capitol was an event — people even dressed up for the occasion. During the Second World War the Capitol and the other theatres kept busy with special shows and events to raise funds for the war effort. In another type of initiative, in June 1940 the management invited soldiers of the Peterborough Garrison to march to the theatre to see a “Great Sea Battle Shown in Picture.”
Movie theatres prospered in the years of the Second World War, with the largest attendance figures yet. But shortly after the war was over the pre-eminence of the Capitol was displaced with the opening of the Odeon and Paramount. Attendance fell in the postwar years, even before the coming of television, and with the new theatres (and a drive-in) the Capitol suffered a decline. It now played something of the role the Regent had attempted — even to the extent of taking over Foto Nites after the Regent folded. As Paul S. Moore points out in an article on the rise of the Canadian Odeon corporation, “Famous Players had long rested on its 1920s architectural laurels” and “its movie palaces” (like Peterborough’s Capitol) were “dated, old-fashioned.”
(For a look at the Capitol as it was in 1947, see Capitol Theatre, Inside and Out.)
The Capitol made attempts to keep up with the two newer theatres, exerting itself especially in the field of newspaper advertisements. To begin it sharpened its audience appeal — lowering prices, focusing on the “ladies,” offering free giveaways (which were, then, not completely restricted to the Depression days of the 1930s), and continuing the awards of its foto nites. In 1951 it underwent a thorough renovation — and added that new and now quite necessary facet, a “candy bar.”
In June 1951 Famous Players spent about $75,000 on major renovations, though without dramatically altering the building structure as a whole. Management transformed the marquee once again and moved the ticket booth over to the left or south side, providing a more spacious feel for entry and exit. Inside they tore out the old heavy carpets, replacing them and adding new drapes here and there. They put in new floors on both levels; due to steel shortages, the new balcony floor was constructed of wood while the auditorium floor was new concrete. They replaced the seats, making the rows between them wider and reducing the capacity by some 43 seats. They added a new sound system, new projector, and new lighting system.
A “refreshment centre” (a snack bar or booth, in other words) was a theatre necessity in the modern age. The Capitol’s new booth was placed in the main lobby area facing the entry — when you entered you had to walk right by it. The space required meant that its construction took a piece out of the back of the auditorium, thus further reducing the downstairs seating.
A particularly dramatic note was the elimination of the original orchestra pit. “The last reminder of the ‘good old days’ of the silent movies will soon vanish from the city,” the paper remarked. The pit had remained in place even during previous renovations.
In September 1954 the Capitol joined the Paramount and the Centre in enlarging its screen, with manager Leonard J. Gouin introducing a new cinemascope screen and equipping its projector with an anamorphic lens.
The renovations and addition of a snack bar did not completely save the day. The decade of the 1950s had begun well, but by the mid-1950s it appears that the theatre was in a perilous state. The lack of air-conditioning proved a major problem in the intense heat of early summer 1955, and at the end of July Famous Players Canadian Corporation announced that it was closing the doors of the Capitol “for the season.” Business had been bad, and the spokesperson commented that the theatre could be closed for good. Tellingly, he said, “We don’t know ourselves yet and would have to wait for instructions from the president or vice-president of the company.”
As it turned out, the Capitol was not quite finished, though secrets remained. Without any fanfare or explanation it resurfaced as of Oct. 17; perhaps air-conditioning was no longer an issue. (The Examiner’s Roger Whittaker made no mention of the re-opening in his weekly column on the movies.) For the next while the Capitol announced its program as “1st Run Peterborough – Regular Prices!” But the pictures were perhaps a touch lower in status (and therefore cheaper) than those of the Paramount or Odeon. There were now no extra charges for smoking in the “loges,” the last 10 rows of the balcony. The designation of “A Famous Players Theatre” still appeared in the daily ads — but not for long.
Foto nites no longer . . .
The Famous Players handoff to 20th Century Theatres
In January 1956 ownership shifted, again without fanfare, to 20th Century Theatres (Twinex Century), a sort of discount wing of Famous Players. Headed by Nathan A. Taylor, Twinex in 1957 was operating over sixty theatres in Ontario. The company brought in John Giroux as manager, though he was quickly succeeded, in 1957, by Verdun Marriott, who stayed at the helm for the theatre’s final years. Doug Pinder, manager of the Peterborough Drive-in, was there in autumn of 1956 filling in as “relief manager.”
Playing the “Movie Game”
As a Famous Players theatre the Capitol had for years run its Foto Nites as a crowd pleaser. In 1956 new owner Twentieth Century Theatres introduced something a little different.
The Capitol joined thirty-seven other Ontario theatres in the circuit to try a new gambit: “The Movie Game.” After picking up a card in the lobby, with the help of a small wooden stick patrons would punch holes in a series of categories to indicate their favourites: stars, movies, types of films, directors. The chain offered big prizes across the thirty-seven theatres for first, second, third, and fourth places: from $15,000 to $2,000 (a winning amount reported in Peterborough was considerably smaller). It was a game copyrighted by the Motion Picture Research Guild, Toronto. The contest was similar to one held the previous spring – involving all the local theatres – in which patrons were handed out lists and asked to give their predictions for Academy Award Oscar winners.
According to reports, the movie game proved popular: some 60 per cent of the ballots issued in the theatres found their way into the entry boxes. The perforated ballots were run through a Remington sorter for quick results. It was, as one article put it, “a possible answer to the heavy bingo competition” that had become something of a challenge at the time.
There was no indication as to whether the game drew larger than normal crowds (I suspect not) or just what the local “preferences” were. The paper reported on only one local winner, Miss Shirley Holland of Lillian Ave.
Around the beginning of 1957 Twinex president Nathan Taylor was lamenting the loss of patronage at his theatres and arguing for the increase of admission prices. “The average theatre-going patron,” he argued, “can easily sit at home and get his entertainment and relaxation by watching TV shows when the weather turns bad.”
Under Twinex (closely affiliated with FPC) the Capitol became something of a second-tier or second-run theatre — the most popular films would play there a short while after their first runs at the Paramount or Odeon. It specialized in smaller, B-movies and youth marketed features. Even so, it could (or did) often advertise these somewhat cheaper films as “First Local,” or “First Time in Peterborough” or “Exclusive Peterborough” showings.
At times it still did bring in first-run and single-feature films, and not all of the cheaper variety. For instance, ticket prices were higher than usual for films such as Friendly Persuasion (released Nov. 26, 1956), the story of a Quaker family put to the test by the American Civil War; and a remake of Hunchback of Notre Dame (France/Italy, released Nov. 3, 1957, with Gina Lollobrigida and Anthony Quinn).
Friendly Persuasion was such a success that it was held over for six weeks – it opened Dec. 31, 1956, and ended Feb. 9, 1957 – said at the time to be a record. Being “held over” was a relatively new thing at the time. It started on the same day as Elvis in Love Me Tender (Nov. 15, 1956) at the Paramount, but Elvis was held over for only a few days.
In autumn 1957 the Capitol screened an Italian-British version of Romeo and Juliet (1954, with a young Laurence Harvey and John Gielgud and Flora Robson in the cast), followed immediately by Federico Fellini’s La Strada (Italy, 1954), “for the discriminating movie patron.” It brought in another first-run film, Love in the Afternoon (released June 30, 1957, but that might have been because the movie was not in general doing well at the box office, despite a love relationship between an aging Gary Cooper and Audrey Hepburn as a teenager. It was advertised as “First Time in Peterborough” – and was not, as usual, part of a double feature.
As the decade rolled along, the Capitol’s double features more and more included older films such as the likes of The Adventures of Tom Sawyer (1938, but shown at the Capitol in September 1958) or re-runs of Randolph Scott movies (a good thing: I loved them). It veered sharply towards the all-important youth market and the sensational; and it screened “B” pictures that (as I also well remember) included such fare as Attack of the 50 Foot Woman (1958) — fascinating enough pictures in themselves but not the sparkling major gems of the past that drew out people dressed in their best clothes.
*****
Life as an usher in the late 1950s
James “Jimmy” Lowes worked at the Capitol part-time as an usher in 1958–59. Born in 1943, he was only around fifteen years old and still in school at the Peterborough Collegiate and Vocational Institute. For him and the other staff, the manager was simply “Mr. Merriott” or “Sir.” The head usher was Pat Thompson and others he remembered were Wayne Smith, Art Hopkinson, Bill Collison, Fred Graham, and Ron Cooney. Walter “Curley” Noyes was the doorman.
As a teenager, Jimmy loved wearing the theatre uniform. “I was an air cadet, army cadet, militia,” he says, “but the loudest & neatest of all was the usher uniform. Blue with red lapels come to my mind.” The trouser leg had a red stripe down the side, and they had to wear a white shirt and black bow tie. He remembers that Wayne Smith made the changes on the marquee out front. William (Bill) Hugh Hunter was a cleaner.
The ushers got fifty cents an hour pay, and Jimmy made about $12 a week. The cashier “Shirley [Overholt] paid us cash in a brown bank envelope.” Their favourite perk was getting a free pass to the Odeon or Paramount. But, Jimmy says, “The Capitol was the busiest of the three theatres, especially on Saturdays.” Sometimes the theatre closed off its balcony on Saturdays, to keep the youngsters out of it and concentrate the activity, and the mess they would make, to the main floor.
He remembers (as this writer also does) the time a horror movie (with Vincent Price) was shown with a special gimmick – a skeleton that ran from back of the theatre to the front on a wire – “not too scary,” he says, but “unique.”
The movies that were popular (making money) were held over. He almost “memorized” The Ten Commandments, which ran for a number of weeks.
*****
This time, closing for good
In the summer of 1961, what the Examiner called “a minor earthquake” shook up what had been the city’s “theatre row.”
In the middle of June Famous Players (clearly in command in the partnership scheme with Twentieth Century Theatres) announced that it was placing its 40-year-old building up for sale. A corporate spokesperson said the operation in recent years had been “either marginal or unprofitable to the company.” Terms of the sale would specify that the building would be used for non-theatre purposes. Manager Verdun Marriott would go off to work at another cinema in Twentieth Century’s chain.
The Capitol presented its last show on Saturday, Aug. 19. The theatre’s final ad featured a special note: “The management and staff of this theatre wish to thank you for your patronage through the past years and wish you every success in the future.” The Capitol was not alone in its passing from the face of the theatre world; twenty-four other theatres folded in 1961. Ontario was left with 434 licensed movie houses, two of them (plus a drive-in) in Peterborough.
The “minor earthquake,” though, was the effect of even more dramatic news: Famous Players and Odeon announced that they were pooling their theatrical resources. In Peterborough Odeon Theatres (Canada) would now operate Famous Players’ Paramount Theatre (as well as the Odeon). The demise of the Capitol closure would leave just two theatres operating in Peterborough, and they would both be operated by the same corporation.
In the following years the vacant theatre space remained in place, somewhat forlornly, its future remaining in doubt. Various local figures had ideas for its use: maybe a Civic Centre operated by the city; perhaps the Theatre Guild would take it over.
An Examiner editorial in February 1962 encouraged the city to acquire the theatre “as a municipal asset.” The Capitol, it said, might just be the answer as a site for the Summer Theatre, community concerts, convention meetings, or visiting plays (such as the annual Spring Thaw or other stage events). People in Peterborough needed to be encouraged “to think of George Street as a centre of entertainment.” The editorial noted that the paper had made much the same argument about civic responsibility after the closing of the Centre Theatre in 1956.
Most tellingly, the writer pointed a finger at theatre ownership as a culprit in the changing prospects of the city’s central business area:
“In talking about downtown decline we should not neglect the part that theatre managements have played. By renting theatre premises for the sole purposes of eliminating competition, at least one theatre management has helped to drive people from downtown.”
Others argued that the site had insurmountable problems: either the seating capacity was too large for a local theatre group, or too small to prove profitable for more expensive types of entertainment. In 1962 the city council quickly turned down a proposal to purchase the building and turn it into a community centre.
By February 1963 Famous Players was losing hope that it would be able to find a buyer for the building; it was considering demolition as an option, and the possibility of reopening the building as “an entertainment centre” had fallen by the wayside. By then the seats had been removed. The real estate firm of Bowes and Cocks had an architect draw up plans for renovating the site into a shopping mall, with stores on the main floor and offices higher up. The property was appraised at an estimated $40,000, based on nearby frontage values.
Editorials in the Examiner made clear that the city had a great need for “a civic theatre” – raising questions of who would use it, where would the money come from to buy and maintain it, and would public funds have to be used to sustain it. Perhaps most notably, silent film violinist (and local long-time musician for years later) Eveline Foster wrote a letter to the editor extolling it as a venue to be saved: “The seating capacity is good, stage and dressing room facilities available for dramatic productions, good lighting too.”
But the plans mooted were not to be, at least in the short term and on the site of the Capitol. The building remained empty and neglected in the following years (just as the Royal Theatre had been from its closing in 1925 until renovations in 1938–39 transformed it into the Centre).
In 1965 the theatre suffered water damage from a fire at the Bad Boy Appliance and Furniture store next door. About eight years later a local interior decorator considered remodeling the building to make it into a store with offices above – but preserving the “architectural quirks of the old theatre” within a new design, such as saving “the two carved shallow-stepped stairways” leading up to the balcony on both sides of the building. Unfortunately, that man met with a tragic death during renovations, and the work and ideas came to a standstill. A local boy, Mike Lacey, worked as an usher at the Paramount in the late 1960s, early 1970s. Since the Paramount was owned by Famous Players also, Mike remembers taking prospective buyers to see the Capitol. The “theatre sat there,” he says, “in very bad shape.”
New plans for conversion arrived in 1975 from the brain of a Toronto developer, N.A.H. Holdings. At a cost of about $900,000 the firm would completely transform the building into a complex of six stores plus office space, obliterating its past. The proposal, which came to fruition over the following months, called for the first and ground floors to be linked to the sidewalk by two sets of stairs each. The building would be named the George Street Centre; proposed tenants would include fashion stores, a toy shop, camera store, and insurance company. In 2021 the site is home to, among other tenants, the basement-dwelling Curry Village.