The Capitol, 1921–61

A huge crowd coming from both directions for Siege of Leningrad, March 19, 1943. From the soon-gone days of the Soviet Union as ally. In his review of this Soviet feature-length documentary (Lenfilm News-reels-Artkino), the New York Times’ film critic Bosley Crowther said: “The heroic defense and endurance of the city of Leningrad during the horrible, torturing Winter of 1941-42, when the Nazis were pounding at the suburbs and the bombs were falling almost constantly, has been put into vivid picture symbols by a corps of Soviet camera men . . .” (Feb. 11, 1943). The GE office in Peterborough (just before it closed for good) kindly gave me a copy of this photo, which is also in the collection of the Peterborough Museum and Archives (PMA), Balsillie Collection of Roy Studio Images, 99-035-00373.


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.

Early 1921, Capitol under construction on George St., south of Charlotte, with hoardings mounted in front beside a very muddy street. The street railway tracks are in place; the service would stop in 1928. Horses and autos still also shared the streets. PMA, Balsillie Collection of Roy Studio Images, 1997-034-10.

Work in progress, with labourers taking time to pose for a photo in the high front archway, 1921, with little resemblance to the final result. “Safety First,” says the sign. “Keep Out.” PMA, Balsillie Collection of Roy Studio Images, 1997-034-5.

Working on the new Capitol Theatre, 1921. Norman McCleod Ltd., of Toronto, had the construction contract for the brick and steel fire-proof building, working in conjunction with a local firm, Grant and Thorpe. PMA, Balsillie Collection of Roy Studio Images,1997-034-6.

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.”

Downtown Peterborough, 1919. The view shows the George and Charlotte intersection, looking west — and towards the bottom left of centre with the vacant lot on George Street south of Charlotte between the Barrie and Comstock buildings, with room for the Capitol Theatre. Billy Bishop and William Barker aerial photograph, Peterborough, Ontario, from an Airplane, British Library, Picryl.

Another aerial photo, but later, c.1947, shows the Capitol taking up its space. A detail from a larger photo, PMA, P-12-667-1.

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.

Examiner, April 18, 1921, p.9. What did the eager audiences see that first day? In addition to the feature presentation Behold My Wife they took in two comedy shorts, one of which included well-known Larry Semon, plus Topics of the Day from the Literary Digest. Marjory Stevens, a young violinist, played several numbers, and so too did an eight-piece orchestra under the direction of Herbert Hawthorne. The unadvertised first-run feature, Behold My Wife (U.S., November 1920, Famous Players-Lasky Corp.), had a rare Canadian angle but a common “Indian Princess” narrative.

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).

Examiner, April 19, 1921, p.15. The theatre’s first announced film, on Thursday, April 21, was Humoresque (1920), one of the previous year’s most popular productions: “a photoplay featuring Alma Rubens.” Billed as “Fanny Hurst’s beautiful story . . .” the movie was shown for prices ranging from 35 cents (for the Lower Floor and Front Balcony, with its “Wicker Chairs”) to 25 cents for the Back Balcony and for children. The prices indicate that the theatre was a step up from the Regent, and over the coming months its ads would be noticeably larger. It would be the place for the “big” pictures coming from the major studios, and especially that of its owner, Famous Players/Paramount.

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 spanking new Capitol interior. Roy Studio, probably 1921. PMA, P 68-96.

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.”

Examiner, Feb. 12, 1923, p.9. In Larry Semon’s comedy The Counter Jumper (1922), audiences would have seen Oliver Hardy (in movies since 1914), later to be part of the more famous Oliver and Hardy team.

Examiner, Dec. 8, 1923, p.11.

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.

Examiner, Oct. 22, 1923, p.1. A front-page opening gambit, addressing Mayor William Hall Taylor (who was perhaps more than a little worried about a minor depression that had started in 1922).

Examiner, Oct. 22, 1923, p.7. Calling on Samuel Newhall, once a lowly constable, now a tough chief of police.

Examiner, Oct. 22, 1923, p.10. Taking aim at fire chief George Gimblett. The city’s constant string of fires might have kept him from regular attendance at motion pictures.

Examiner, Oct. 23, 1923, p.12. And finally inviting everyone to the fun.

Examiner, Oct. 24, 1923, p.11. As the campaign promised: “For the benefit of patrons who laugh themselves sick at Harold Lloyd in ‘Why Worry,’ the management has arranged to have a doctor in attendance at each showing.”

Peterborough is on the list as a link in the Canadian chain. Examiner, Aug. 30, 1924, p.11.

Examiner, Nov. 5, 1926, p.17. Over the years the Capitol used its stage for live performances almost as much as it did its screen for the latest pictures.

Examiner, Aug. 23, 1947, p.7. As late as 1947, a very scary midnight stage show.

Examiner, Oct. 18, 1926, p.11. Always more than motion pictures.

Examiner, Aug. 26, 1927, p.13. Tom Mix, one of the most popular western stars of the era, came to the city in person just a few years later. Jack Dempsey (world heavyweight champion, 1919—26) was on screen in town as early as 1920 — and came in person in 1950 to referee a fight at the Brock Arena.

Capitol Theatre, 1928, not long before “sound” was introduced. With the Al Sharpe’s Clothes Store on one side of the entrance and the Capitol Beauty Parlor on the other. It was around the same time that painters moved in (for about a month) and the theatre got a facelift. PMA, 2000-012-003826-2.

Examiner, Aug. 8, 1928, p.6.

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.

The theatre, now with its flashy new sign added, c.1929. PMA.

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.”

The all-male ushers outside the Capitol in September 1929, with head usher John Trennum in the middle. On screen, Gentlemen of the Press (released May 1929), with Walter Huston, Katherine Francis, Charles Ruggles — “All Talking.” PMA, 2000-012-001673-1.

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.”

Examiner, Aug. 31, 1933, p.15. With only a few live attractions at the Grand Opera House in the 1930s, the Capitol continued with musical stage attractions along with the movies. Here, Ken Hackley’s Oklahoma Cowboys, “Famous Radio Artists.”

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.

Staff at the Capitol, September 1930. Left to right: Roy Killingbeck, Roy Dainard, Ernie Fowler, Gord Beavis, head usher Jack Trennum, manager John Stewart, Milt Lowden, Vern Beavis, Joe Crawford, Harry Ristow, Ted Crowe. The movie showing is Way out West (1930), which played two days only, Saturday, Sept. 20 and Monday the 22th. Photo courtesy of John Trennum. The photo also appeared in Ed Arnold, “Memories: No Popcorn, but Movies Were 32 cents,” Examiner, April 13, 1981; and Mary Hetherington, “A Night at the Movies,” Examiner, July 27, 1997, p.6a.

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.

Examiner, Dec. 11, 1935, p.9.

Examiner, May 22, 1937, p.33.

“Is Promoted,” Examiner, Feb. 18, 1939, p.7.

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.”

The Capitol, with its bright lights and dazzling marquee, in March 1939, for the showing of the screen version of George Bernard Shaw’s Pygmalion (1938), starring Leslie Howard and Wendy Hiller. The movie opened in Peterborough on Friday, March 17, and drew big crowds; it was held over until Thursday, March 23. PMA, VR 4459.

Examiner, March 18, 1939, p.9. The city’s three theatres in competition — and dancing too.

Said a Sept. 4 announcement, the price of admission: “From Pots and Pans to Victory Tools.”

A wartime contribution, outside the Capitol. Children who brought one piece of aluminum could get in to see the movie show for free. Examiner, Sept. 9, 1941, p.5.

Going to a movie, or just posing? Grenny Harrison is outside the Capitol, early February 1942. Gren Harrison was the younger sister of Eldon Harrison, who lived in Peterborough all his life. This was one of a series of photos taken of Gwen at downtown locations that day. Thanks to Dan Delong (a nephew of Eldon and Gwen) for the photo. The film advertised in the display case by the door, Shadow of the Thin Man (released December 1941) opened at the Capitol on Feb. 8, 1942.

Examiner, Feb. 13, 1942, p.9. When a theatre was more than just a place to see movies: a common occurrence during wartime.

Examiner, Jan. 23, 1945, p.5. A personal touch that had been applied since the days of Herbert Clayton of the Red Mill and Princess and Mike Pappas of the Royal, but seldom seen in later years.

The Capitol on its 25th anniversary, looking a little the worst for wear but still attracting big crowds. Although the Famous Players anniversary marked the corporation beginning from 1920, the Capitol itself dated from 1921. The film “Now Showing,” Since You Went Away (1944), with Claudette Colbert, Jennifer Jones, and Joseph Cotton, opened on Monday, Feb. 29, 1945 and was held over until Saturday, Feb. 3. One of 1945’s top box-office hits, Since You Went Away was, says cinema historian Thomas Schatz, “Hollywood’s wartime woman’s picture par excellence.” PMA.

Examiner, Jan. 23, 1945, p.5. Movies as a “great morale booster” during the Second World War. Isadore Black’s store was then next door to the Capitol.

The Capitol Theatre submits plans for its candy bar, June 1949. Archives of Ontario, RG 56 C-3, File 29.1.

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.”

Examiner, Jan. 21, 1950, p.7.

Weekly Review, Jan. 26, 1950, p.7.

Peterborough Weekly Review, June 21, 1951, p.5.

Peterborough Weekly Review, June 21, 1951, p.4.

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.

Now you can get popcorn, prepared before your eyes! Peterborough Review, June 21, 1951, p.4.

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.

Capitol Theatre, upon reopening with Soldiers Three after renovations, June 27, 1951. It is still clearly designated as a “Famous Players” theatre. The ticket booth is now to the right of the renovated front doors. Cinematreasures.org.

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.

Examiner, May 7, 1953, p.7. Foto Nite at the Capitol, and money to be had. The problem was, you could see Life of Riley, with Bill Bendix, on TV every week too. The movie version was released in 1949.

Examiner, Aug. 1, 1953, p.7. “The first Peterborough showing,” it says, but it was released in December 1951. And it was “adult entertainment,” and foreign.

Examiner, Sept. 19, 1953, p.7. Movies (and music) galore, but the Capitol also had free silverware for the “ladies.”

Examiner, Sept. 4, 1954, p.7. The Capitol amidst an array of other theatres and activities.

Examiner, Sept. 30, 1954, p.7. The new “Wide-Vision” screen but still the old Foto-Nite.

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 Capitol “closed for season” — go see something at the Paramount, eh? PMA, P-08-920-1.

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 . . .

Examiner, Jan. 13, 1955, p.7. Foto nites had been a popular draw for crowds since they were introduced at the Regent Theatre in the late 1930s. The initiative had extensive tie-ins with local merchants. But spring 1955 saw them come to an end.

Examiner, March 10, 1955, p.7.

Examiner, March 16, 1955, p.7.

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”

Examiner, Sept. 22, 1956, p.7. Have fun and play! The Capitol announces the movie game contest.

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.

Examiner, Oct. 26, 1956, p.7.

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.

Examiner, Nov. 3, 1956, p.7.

Examiner, Nov. 7, 1956, p.7. Doug Pinder, here the Capitol’s “relief manager,” was manager of the Peterborough Drive-in from 1956 to 1958. Shirley Holland worked at Kresge’s store; her father, Edward, was a foreman at Canada Packers.

Examiner, Nov. 11, 1957, p.7. Not to be missed if, like me, you were a thirteen-year-old boy. A single feature, with advanced prices. Was it truly “an Ontario premiere”?

Examiner, Feb. 2, 1959, p.7. The advantages of being an usher: Jimmy Lowes, who worked at the Capitol at an early age, says he “got to see a couple of Bridget Bardot movies (before I was eighteen).”

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.”

Examiner, Dec. 29, 1956, p.7. Friendly Persuasion about to begin its long run.

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.

Examiner, Jan. 2, 1958, p.7. An array of filmic products at the three theatres, with the Capitol’s “First Time in Peterborough!” Personally, I saw the memorable Tarnished Angels, a Douglas Sirk movie, and, of course, would not miss Elvis, but somehow was not drawn to the “beautifully photographed” charms of Courage of Black Beauty.

Examiner, Jan. 3, 1958, p.7. “Moviexaminer” was a regular movie review column — a rare thing in Peterborough since the days of Cathleen McCarthy in the 1920s and 1930s — that began to appear in late 1957.

“Moviexaminer” column, Examiner, Dec. 18, 1958, p.7.

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.

Examiner, Oct. 17, 1958, p.7. “Exclusive Peterborough Showings,” of a decidedly different nature than, for instance, the long-running Friendly Persuasion.

Examiner, Dec. 1, 1958, p.7. More “exclusive Peterborough showings.” The ad for The Blob (1958) does not give the name of its star, Steve McQueen, in his first leading role. Legend has it that McQueen had the poster for this film on his bedroom wall at the time of his death.

Examiner, Nov. 26, 1960, p.20. Trying something more unusual, too: German movies, for one day only.

*****

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.

Examiner, June 29, 1957, p.9. The Capitol invests in air-conditioning for the coming summer.

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.

Examiner, Aug. 16, 1961, p.34. The Capitol’s closing show, with its significantly old movies (the James Stewart western Winchester ‘73 (1950), and the film noir Criss Cross (1949), with no mention that it would be the final days for the theatre.

Examiner, Aug. 19, 1961, p.9. The Capitol building would be sold “on the stipulation that it is not reopened as a theatre.” Manager Vern Marriott left to take up a position at the theatre in Hamilton.

Examiner, Aug. 24, 1961, p.15. Always sad when a movie theatre closes; but it seems that something else goes missing, too. A comment, also, on the youthful audience of those days.

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.

George Street looking south, nd but post-1961. The bright lights missing one bright light. Detail from a larger photo, PMA, George St theatres, P-08-920-1. Thanks also to Rick Mancini.

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.

Examiner, Feb. 9, 1963, p.13. The once-proud Capitol Theatre languishes in no-person’s land. But the theatre was never “razed.” Instead, later on it was renovated into a quite different kind of building, but the basic structure is still there in the 2020s.

Editorial, Examiner, Feb. 12, 1963, p.4.

Examiner, June 10, 1971, p.19. On this day in 1929, the Capitol screened the first “talky.” As the paper put it: “Times have certainly changed for the Capitol since June 10, 1929 when they had to turn people away from both evening shows and seats could be had for 53, 47 or 37 cents each.”

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.”

“Capital [sic] Theatre’s Fate Changed,” Examiner, April 25, 1975, p.3. The paper did not take care to get the name right, either in the headline or in the body of the article. It also said the Capitol closed “in 1963,” rather than 1961.

308 George St., 2021, Google maps.

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.

Robert Clarke