The Odeon, 1947–86

The Odeon, 290 George St. N., in mid-January 1948, about a month after its opening in December 1947. Next door, to the south, the Paramount Theatre is under construction.

The film now showing, Abie’s Irish Rose (released December 1946), opened on Friday Jan. 16, 1948, and ended up being held over until the following Thursday. “Cultures clash when a Jewish boy wants to marry an Irish girl,” said an ad. The film was popular: it returned at least twice that year, to the Centre in late April and the Regent in November. Ontario Archives (AO), RG 56-11-0-203-4.


Despite fears of a postwar depression, or maybe because of them, the pent-up energies and profits of the theatre companies went into a building boom which continued until television paranoia became pervasive around 1949-50. Famous Players decided to stress modernization of its large theatre circuit which grew from 327 theatres in 1944 to 383 in 1949. Odeon decided they would buy or build new theatres to catch up with Famous.” – Kirwan Cox, “Hollywood’s Empire in Canada,” in Self Portrait: Essays on the Canadian and Quebec Cinema, ed. Pierre Véronneau (Ottawa: Canadian Film Institute, 1980), pp.21-22.

The Odeon Theatre has opened up in this block [between Charlotte and King], and is the largest of all new businesses in Peterborough’s shopping centre this year.” – “Store Changes Downtown Are Numerous,” Peterborough Examiner, Aug. 14, 1948, p.9.

The much-celebrated arrival of the Odeon: the “Word for Progress”

In the burst of theatre building in the late 1940s, the Odeon Theatre was first. It opened its shiny new “imposing glass doors” to a curious crowd in the heart of downtown Peterborough on Tuesday, Dec. 16, 1947.

Making the pages of Variety, Dec. 31, 1947, p.6.

The 1940s, including the years of the Second World War, had seen a boom in moviegoing attendance everywhere, including Peterborough. During the war years the building of new theatres was prohibited, but finally, late in the decade, construction could begin. News had slowly circulated about two new theatres about to be set down, side by side, in the middle of the city; the Odeon would be the first to move into construction. As early as December 1945, as the Examiner put it, “The plans are ready, the company is all set to go.”

Motion Picture Herald, Nov. 30, 1946, p.70. Odeon makes the scene, with a salute to Rank. “With their modern theatres, both technologically and culturally sophisticated,” Paul S. Moore writes, “Odeon could provide a film culture to match post-war cultural needs.”

It was yet another corporate affair. Odeon Theatres of Canada, with its head office in Toronto, had arrived on the movie exhibition scene in 1941, headed (under the name of General Theatres Corporation) by Paul Nathanson, son of then–Famous Players Canadian Corporation president Nathan L. Nathanson.

The elder Nathanson had been involved with Famous Players and its U.S. partner, Adolph Zukor’s Paramount Pictures Corporation, since its creation in 1920; he had been involved in seemingly endless struggles for control in the next two decades, which were still underway when his son Paul established Odeon in early 1941. At the time the senior Nathanson’s connection to Odeon was muddled, but with the new theatre circuit in place he resigned his position at Famous Players in May 1941. With that move Nathan Nathanson had, it seemed, achieved his ambition to be in charge of a national, Canadian-owned chain, albeit under the name of his son, Paul. Unfortunately, he died not long after, in May 1943.

The company had announced plans to build a number of large houses in various Canadian cities, including Kingston, London, and Peterborough, in April 1941. But the wartime restrictions on construction placed those plans on hold.

In those wartime years and after, as cinema historian Paul Moore points out, Odeon “positioned itself as a patriotic alternative to Famous Players.” The company took advantage of the British ties and postwar anglophilia.

From early on the Canadian Odeon theatre chain was loosely affiliated with the British Odeon company, and by 1944 it was officially partnered with the J. Arthur Rank organization of London, England, which controlled the British Odeon theatres. In 1946 it became a Rank subsidiary. What began as an ostensibly Canadian company was now a British-owned concern.

The lure of Hollywood, even for the Odeon president. Boxoffice, Feb. 17, 1945, p.89.

In autumn 1946 Odeon in Canada was operating about 100 houses and had a four-year plan to build some 64 more over the next few years. The 1947–48 building program alone consisted of 25 theatres.

Given the connection with the Rank organization, the plan for Canadian Odeons would be to show both U.S. and British “product.” Unlike theatres of an earlier age, the new ones would have a “very broad street frontage and [make] extensive use of glass,” ensuring that the inside lobbies and foyers would be visible from the street. The Odeons would establish “Odeon Junior Movie Clubs” for Saturday morning programs, including films made for children only. (The Capitol and Centre theatres had been having special Saturday morning programs for youngsters for years, and a preoccupation with the large children’s audience had been in place at theatres since the 1910s.)

Examiner, Dec. 15, 1947, p.10. Three theatres on the same short block. What to do about the lineups? The “new theatre not yet completed” was to be the Paramount.

In a growing Peterborough the dire need for housing competed with theatre-building projects, and even after the war ended a shortage of building materials delayed Odeon’s construction plans. Critics argued that “essential buildings”(houses, schools, factories) were competing “for desperately scarce materials with buildings such as bowling alleys, theatres and service stations.” A laissez-faire attitude on the part of government was held to blame.

In a bid for the non-essential, on Tuesday, Nov. 12, 1946, Odeon submitted architectural plans to the Peterborough city council, estimating a cost of $125,000 and citing a frontage of 62 feet and a seating capacity of 994.

City council duly deliberated on the arrangements, but not without the usual fuss. The Examiner reported on the council’s conversation:

“Are there to be two theatres in that block?” asked Ald. James Dutton (the manager of the local Wonder Bakeries company).

“I believe so,” said Mayor William G. Ovens.

“I suppose,” Ald. Dutton remarked, “we are going to have plenty of spare time in the future.”

Ald. Dutton presumably did not as yet know – or had not kept up with the news – that very shortly indeed that block would have not two but three theatres. As that same article pointed out, yet another theatre had already been “mooted” as a project to be placed “approximately on the foundation of the former Grand.” At that point only the outline of that theatre’s concrete base walls remained in place.

The lot at 290 George St. N. being cleared, 1946, with the surrounding construction barrier/fencing just being put up. The building being demolished might be the blacksmith shop that had stood there for a few decades; its address was 297 Water. Plenty of curious onlookers stopped to take a look. Across the street, on the west side of George St. (from the right) are: the Grand Hotel, Singer Sewing Machine Co., United Electrical Radio and Machine Workers of America, Buchanan & Co. (china, crockery, and glass), and Dit Clapper’s Sport Shop (with radios and appliances). The building known as “the Lundy Block” houses apartments above. Trent Valley Archives (TVA), 1 F141948_file_3_001.

Examiner, April 19, 1947, p.9. Construction men do their work, and the curious must take care.

After the lot was cleared, workers of the T.F. Doughty company began the excavation on Nov. 19, 1946. People passing by on George St. stopped to take an interest in the wreckage, including the demolition of a small brick building that had been erected in 1918 and was for years occupied by blacksmiths, most recently Ernest J. Cadd (297 Water). Unlike movie theatres, blacksmiths downtown were no longer in great demand.

The preparatory work continues deep in the winter of 1946—47. By early December 1946, with good weather prevailing, Davidson Construction had made “good progress with the footing and foundation forms, managing to being just before cold and snow had set in and then carrying the work to completion through the winter season. Brick work on the was began in March 1947. TVA, 2 F14 file_3_006.

The contractor was H. Davidson, of Toronto. Jay Isadore English was assigned as chief architect – he was responsible for twelve Odeon theatres across the country (including one in Oshawa) — and he had previously designed Peterborough’s Centre Theatre, opened in 1939. English had made a month-long trip to England in 1945 to study modern theatre construction there; his most striking work, perhaps, came with the Odeon Carlton, which opened in Toronto in 1949, but he did not live to see the completion of either the Carlton or Peterborough’s Odeon: his career came to an abrupt end when he died in a canoe accident near Gravenhurst in August 1947.

The manager would be Claude L. Hunter, who had been overseeing the new Odeon Theatre in Kingston. He soon arrived in town, looking for a small apartment and advertising for staff (and in the meantime taking a room at the Empress Hotel). Opening day was set for Tuesday, Dec. 16, 1947.

A local man, John Smith (who had been a “master painter” before he moved his family to Peterborough in 1918), working with his son, painted the interior of the Odeon (and shortly after did the Paramount as well).

Examiner, Dec. 2, 1947, p.15.

Examiner, Dec. 3, 1947, p.19.

Examiner, Dec. 15, 1947, p.13. Claude Hunter managed the Odeon until around 1952—53, when — not surprisingly given his promotional record at the Odeon — he became a salesman at Comstock’s; he was gone from Peterborough by 1957. Corporate ownership meant that managers came and went fairly quickly over the following years.

Preparation for building, late winter/early spring, 1947. The construction work was not without incident. Early on the cold morning of Feb. 4 a fire broke out when a brazier on the theatre’s construction site got too close to the wooden cement frames. The fire department came to the rescue and prevented any serious damage. TVA, 4 F14, file 3_005.

The walls begin to go up, 1947. TVA, 5 F14, file 3.

An aerial photo showing George Street and Water Street, and in between, the Odeon under construction, with the Paramount just beside it in the early stage, c.1947. PMA, Odeon Paramount under construction P-12-667-3.

Odeon under construction, 1947. At the back, and fronting on Water St., is the Peterborough Canoe Company; in the deep background, to the left, is the Quaker Oats factory; and in the far distance, centre, Armour Hill. King George Public School and the Westclox tower are also visible. PMA, 2000-012-001281-1.

The view of the back from Water St., winter 1948. The Paramount (to the left) is now complete. The back of that newest theatre displays an old poster for “Lucky Lott, hell driver,” from the time of the Peterborough Exhibition the previous July. Ontario Archives (AO), RG 56-11-0-203-4.

The Ultimate in presentation, air conditioning, and comfort

Examiner, Dec. 11, 1947, p.7.

Examiner, Dec. 12, 1947, p.7.

Examiner, Dec. 13, 1947, p.7.

The Odeon inside and outside

Another view of street life and the Odeon under construction, c.1947. TVA, F902.

The main entrance, detail from the mid-January 1948 photo. The theatre front sported “Canadian stone” — with architect English seeking to create a “community building . . . specially suited to the community it was to serve” and “a lasting source of local pride.” The wide entrance way, with its three sets of glass panel doors, was something quite new in theatre design. Passersby were lured by the posters and lobby cards in the case in the middle; and could see inside to the lobby through the windows on the right. Ontario Archives (AO), RG 56-11-0-203-4.

Inside the front doors, the ticket booth at the left. In comparison, the Capitol Theatre, opened by Famous Players Canadian in 1921, was now dated and old-fashioned — as well as being U.S.-controlled. The British films screened at the Odeon would help to set it apart from Famous Players’ Paramount, which would soon open next door. People walking up to that ticket booth would pay more or less the same price as at the other theatres: around 15 cents for children at matinees and 35 cents for adult seating on the main floor. The theatre boosted its prices for big features such as The Best Years of Our Life (in January 1948; it reran the movie in December of that year “at popular prices”). (The Centre Theatre kept offering slightly lower prices than the other three.) Children’s matinee prices were held at 15 cents, the same as the other theatres. Tickets for a new year’s show, midnight on Jan. 1, went for 75 cents (with a stage show included).Ontario Archives (AO), RG 56-11-0-203-1.

The Odeon lobby, 1948. Archives of Ontario. Snack bar to the right, very small by today’s standards. The “lunch counter,” as a report in the Examiner called it, “fits snugly into a corner of the lobby to prevent activity here from disturbing patrons in the auditorium proper.” The lobby of today’s Showplace is more or less the same, with a small drinks bar in roughly the same place as the original concession stand. The auditorium had a main floor seating capacity of 754, with 244 seats in the smoking loges. Ontario Archives (AO), RG 56-11-0-203-5.

Examiner, Dec. 15, 1947, p.11. No effort spared (to draw audiences?): given postwar hydro regulations limiting the use of electric power for lighting business premises, Odeon management had seen fit to install a diesel-engined power unit to supply the extra electricity required to illuminate the marquee without breaking the rules. Rest assured — the Odeon, remarked the paper, would “be lit up like the proverbial Christmas tree.”

Thanks to architect English, the style of the Odeon theatres that were built across the country tended to Streamline Moderne – with its curvilinear forms and use of metals, such as chrome and aluminum, and plastics in construction. The large lobby space and bountiful use of glass – not only in the entrance doors but in the form of a large picture window that provided a view of the entire lobby from the street – was a deviation from theatres of the past. Another major innovation was to have the box office placed “strategically” inside the theatre; patrons would enter a small foyer to purchase tickets before making a right turn to enter the lobby — where they would find a “snack bar,” also the first in the city’s theatres.

At the time the Capitol, Centre, and Regent were as yet without concession stands. The Capitol and Centre both added snack bars in the following year or two. Although patrons had always taken treats (especially peanuts) into theatres, the era of movie-going being synonymous with the smell and consumption of popcorn had begun. As time went on, concession stands would more and more heavily subsidize exhibition costs. By 1951 90 per cent of Canadian theatres were selling refreshments of one kind or another: sales of popcorn, candy, chocolate bars, and drinks grew from almost nothing in five years to an estimated $10 million nationally.

The Film Daily, Jan. 9, 1948, p.6. The provisions “for television,” at this and other such theatres, fell by the wayside.

Examiner, Dec. 16, 1947, p.7.

Examiner, Dec. 16, 1947, p.7. Green for Danger was also featured at the Fairlawn in Toronto, the first Odeon theatre to be opened.

The Odeon opened at 8:15 p.m. on Tuesday, Dec. 16, 1947, with (not surprisingly) a British film, Green for Danger (released December 1946), starring Alastair Sim. The program included 30 “thrill-packed minutes of highlights” from the Royal Wedding of Princess Elizabeth and Philip, Duke of Edinburgh, which had taken place only a couple of weeks earlier. The Royal Wedding proved so popular it was held over for an extra three days.

The company expected to screen an average of about thirty British features in its theatres each year. It did indeed show plenty of British films for a decade or more, although in the long run its program would primarily gravitate to “the same old Hollywood movies.” Odeon by contract would get the first pick of movies from the Columbia and Universal studios. Sometimes in the later 1950s the theatre had a mixed double-feature, one film British, the other U.S., a strategy that was probably aimed at drawing larger audiences.

In the beginning, over a couple of days the Examiner gave extensive coverage — over four pages, including many commercial ads of welcome — to the opening:

Clever use of basic building materials add greatly to the appearance and the brick front has been enhanced by being given a rustic surface. . . . box office is strategically placed in the lobby so that patrons may purchase tickets conveniently and away from possible unpleasant weather conditions.”

The 244 seats in the smoking loges were notable for their “specially-designed, push-back seat for added comfort and convenience.”

In all, “No effort has been spared [to provide the] last word in attractiveness, restful environment and luxurious comfort. This completely fire-proof, modern structure has many safety factors, including healthful air-conditioning for your welfare.”

Moviegoers did have reason to complain, but it was about the weather, not the theatres. Examiner, Dec. 18, 1947, p.17.

The lobby had luxurious, “rich and colorful” carpeting wall to wall. Patrons went down staircases on either side of the lobby to the “Ladies’ Vanity Room” (or “powder room”) and “Men’s Smoking Room, with lounge chairs freely available. The auditorium had two main aisles, allowing ease of entering and exiting, with a “unique latticework effect” as decoration on the walls. The seats were “roomy” — with lots of leg room — and provided “maximum vision.” “Since the motion picture is for purposes of relaxation, the theatergoer must have room to relax including leg-room,” explained the Examiner. The movie screen — 19’6” by 16’ – “assures perfectly presented screen pictures” delivered by the “most modern type of projection and sound equipment.” Although the theatre’s emphasis was on its screen — which curled open and closed for film performances — there was also a small stage on which occasional live events could be held.

Examiner, Nov. 10, 1948, p.7. On the screen, Blood and Thunder (a mysterious film I have not yet been able to track down); on stage the supreme spook man himself.

Examiner, June 11, 1948, p.8. A polar opposite to spooks on stage?

As promised, for years to come a small number of moviegoers could go inside the doors to line up to buy tickets – in the left-hand corner near where the present Showplace ticket booth is, but not recessed into the wall – and larger lineups could spill out onto the street, heading north up George, a common occurrence.

*****

The Odeon auditorium looking towards the curtained screen. Ontario Archives (AO), RG 56-11-0-203-6.

The view from the screen, with the balcony above. The projection booth high up at the back. Ontario Archives (AO), RG 56-11-0-203-7.

Reinforcing the “commercial collective”: the Odeon and a neighbourhood public

Going to a movie, any movie, thus becomes a way to participate in an international public, a national public, or a neighbourhood public, depending on the particular film, theatre, and audience.” – Paul S. Moore, “Nathan L. Nathanson Introduces Canadian Odeon: Producing National Competition in Film Exhibition,” Canadian Journal of Film Studies 12.2 (Fall 2003)

Examiner, May 11, 1948, p.7. No, not Hollywood, but for moviegoers wanting something different, off the beaten path?

Theatre Regulatory Files, Archives of Ontario, RG 56.9, 10.

The theatre’s first manager, Claude Hunter, had previously managed the new Odeon Theatre in Kingston (after completing service overseas with the RCAF). He came with a reputation “not only as an alert and capable manager, but as a popular citizen, active in many community endeavours.” During his time in Kingston he had appeared on a list of the Boxoffice “World’s Greatest Showmen” for 1946, and in Peterborough he continued to stand out — with an “Honorable Mention” in 1948 for his Peterborough efforts and occasional mentions in the trade magazine for his promotional ingenuity.

In competition with the other local theatres, Hunter pulled out a number of stops to bring in the crowds. During a time when movie audiences were declining from the heights of the 1940s and big box-office hits were growing more scarce, Hunter worked hard to situate the new theatre as a distinctive, locally oriented phenomenon. Given the theatre’s program of screening large numbers of British pictures, he faced a tough challenge. Except for a few exceptions, the British films that the Odeon emphasized were not an automatically huge attraction (compared to Hollywood fare). They tended to lack the “name power” of the Hollywood films and in many cases the glamour. Their plots often did not follow the same conventions; and, as a 1959 Examiner review of one of them pointed out, the “typically British comedies” were such that “possibly only the British can truly appreciate.”

Examiner, March 27, 1948, p.7. With a tie-in to a local jewellery store, a section of the entry form for the Odeon’s Stairway to Heaven contest, asking film-goers to submit marquee advertising ideas.

He excelled at organizing co-operative ventures – constructing ties with downtown businesses and community organizations to promote their interests as well as his own. He was by no means satisfied with the usual advance-notice lobby and window displays. His work on this front was by no means unique to Peterborough: the times called for “a much greater deal of showmanship and initiative,” the 1949 Film Daily Yearbook remarked. “In a number of locations theater business has returned to the pre-war premium dishes and variations of Screeno etc., as the come-on to patrons.”

Boxoffice, April 10, 1948, p.444. The “Peterboro Pipe band” would have been the Canadian General Electric (or CGE) Pipe Band, formed in 1944. It was sometimes referred to as “the Peterborough Works Pipe Band.” The city had another pipe band, known as the Canadian Scottish band, the oldest such band in the city, formed after the First World War. Around this same time the CGE group was cited as the city’s “major band” — with about 15 pipers and 9 drummers, plus the pipe major.

On one occasion, for instance, he offered prizes — contributed by Peterborough Credit Jewellers — for the best words to go on the theatre marquee to attract attention to the British film Stairway to Heaven (1946).

Another time he had the “inspiration” (in the words of the U.S. trade publication Boxoffice) to approach a Peterborough bagpipe band and persuade them to participate in “ballyhooing” the British film I Know Where I’m Going. The pipe band was looking for ways of bolstering its funds, and Hunter had a perhaps somewhat difficult movie to promote. It was a perfect match: originally released in Britain in 1945 (thus not particularly new) and starring Wendy Hiller, the film was set in the Hebrides, off the coast of Scotland. For the theatre, according to Boxoffice, the effort “paid off handsomely in publicity and goodwill.”

For the U.S. war movie Arch of Triumph (released March 6, 1948, and starring Ingrid Bergman and Charles Boyer), Hunter apparently took advantage of the postwar increase in the price of meat, teaming up with a small corner grocery store, Healey’s (at the corner of Prince and Aylmer streets): a circular went out, with the latest meat prices at Healey’s on one side and the Odeon film display, with complete credits, on the other. “The combination,” Hunter reported, “gained unusual attention.”

Examiner, July 16, 1948, p.7. So sensitive that it called for an instructive talk on stage and segregated audiences. “Ignorance is sin, and knowledge is power,” the producers told the audience at the opening of the film. In the film a high-school girl gets pregnant, her boyfriend dies, and a local sex-ed teacher shows her a film about childbirth and the dangers of venereal disease. It’s all because her parents had refused to discuss sex education (called “personal hygiene”) with her.

A rare “educational” film provided another challenge, and Hunter came up with various angles to draw attention to something that might otherwise have not proved so attractive to a Hollywood-loving patronage. For the fictional and feature-length — and somewhat sensational — Mom and Dad (U.S., 1945, from Hygienic Productions) he managed to get a large window display placed in the Canadian Department Stores (soon to be called Eaton’s). The location could not have been better – just across the street and up a bit from the Odeon, on the southwest corner of George and Charlotte, the very heart of the city. “This is a feat for Hunter,” the industry publication reported, “because the large local store seldom loans a window.” The film even got a mention in an Examiner editorial, which declared: “The film Mom and Dad, which is now being shown at the Odeon, is the best sex education film that we have ever seen.”

In the end Mom and Dad did very well, in Peterborough and elsewhere. Reports indicate that it might have been the top-grossing “exploitation picture” of all time. The film continued to be shown throughout the 1950s, and its investors apparently all got rich.

Boxoffice, Nov. 20, 1948, p.41. The dressed-up window of the Kawartha Sports Equipment, 239 George (Wm Addyman), at the corner of Sherbrooke. But decidedly not a British film.

The life of the baseball great Babe Ruth provided a somewhat more conventional subject to promote. Hunter mounted an “all-out newspaper and exploitation treatment,” with pressbook handouts and radio tie-ups through the local radio station CHEX. He had cards printed and handed out on the streets, with a wooden match inserted and the slogan “Strike One for the Bambino.” A massive window display fronted a sports equipment store just down the street from the theatre.

Beyond promoting particular movies, Hunter organized an amateur stage show, held every Monday night and sponsored by a local jewelry store, Ostrander’s. The theatre held auditions on Sunday afternoons to prepare for the following evening’s program.

Finally, he pushed his audience to pay attention to the British movies he was screening. In late October he introduced a letter-writing contest, inviting patrons to submit letters on the topic of why they liked British pictures (assuming they did) and offering theatre passes as prizes. Along with ads in the Examiner and even a screen trailer, he had a large lobby display listing outstanding British productions of 1948, with stills and colorful blowups of the English stars who appeared in the films.

Examiner, Nov. 20, 1948, p.7. A project to stimulate interest in British films.

Examiner, Jan. 6, 1949, p.7. The winner admired the acting (including the bit parts), the “discriminating choice of suitable subjects,” the “authentic portrayal of suitable subjects,” and the portrayal of British life and avoidance of sentimentality. “As an adult of average intelligence,” he was glad to be “treated as such.”

Examiner, Oct. 9, 1948, p.7. The Odeon, prominent amongst the other ads; here with its stage show sponsored by Ostrander’s Jewellers, and one of its many British feature films, Oliver Twist (1948).

Examiner, April 5, 1949, p.8. Another Odeon publicity drive.

Examiner, April 16, 1951, p.7. Luring the audience out for the early afternoon show.

From managers to ushers, cashiers, maintenance, and a matron: a few of the Odeon staff

Examiner, Jan. 22, 1954, p.7. Luring an audience with a draw for cookware, and extra prizes. One half of the double feature was a British production: This Happy Breed was from the J. Arthur Rank studio, 1944, directed by David Lean.

Perhaps Hunter could keep up that kind of energy for only so long. By 1953 he had left the Odeon to become a salesman, first at Comstock’s (immediately next door) and later at Gibbons & Knox, a store selling electrical appliances and washing machines on Charlotte St. By 1957 he had left Peterborough.

Hunter was succeeded at the Odeon by George C. Shepherd (1953–56), who continued to promote the theatre in similar ways. For instance, in 1954, with Art Cauley of the Paramount, he organized a benefit show that provided $550 for the Variety Village vocational school for youth with physical disabilities. And at the Odeon, under Shepherd’s watch, if you were lucky, you could see a couple of movies and win some cookware (a gimmick worthy of the Depression era). At least once Shepherd invited the Peterborough Sea Cadets to be his guests at the theatre — for a screening of Away All Boats (1956, with Jeff Chandler), a story of amphibious warfare during the Second World War.

Examiner, Sept. 4, 1956, p.7. The Sea Cadets proved a prime audience.

Following Shepherd, other managers included Walter Blondell (c.1958–60), Kerry Gilmor (1961), Gerald A. Sabourin (1962), Robert Cleminson (1963), James Yates (1964), Fred Dorrington (1965), S.A. Sell (1968), and — the longest-running and perhaps most popular — Howard Binns (1970–83). The manager in 1986 was Douglas Hall, who stayed on at the Trent Cinemas after that.

Examiner, Dec. 16, 1952, p.7. Peterborough’s Odeon is celebrating its fifth birthday.

Examiner, Dec. 16, 1952, p.5. The downtown merchants appear fully to approve the Odeon Theatre’s presence.


Early staff members included:

Assistant managers: Robert K. Jacks, Robert N.P. Bower, Harry T. Dunk (who had a job also at CHEX radio as a librarian and left in 1952 to become manager of the Trent theatre in Trenton).

Cashiers: Denise Mahood (1955), Mrs. Janet E. Phillips.

Doormen: Robert Blackshaw, Herbert J. Fontaine, Kenneth McLaren, Allan Sedgwick.

Ushers: Elsie Gillespie, Clara Gillespie, Doris Gilroy, Bernice Ramsay, Betty Green, Yvonne Mason, Harvey Betteley, Carol Palmateer, Robert Hynes, Murray Kidd, Wayne Roseborough, Ted Copperthwaite.

Matron (who took care of children unaccompanied by adults): Nora Carson.

Examiner, Sept. 22, 1956, p.7. The Odeon introduces a series of “continental” or foreign films — sometimes known as “art films” — an alternative to the standard Hollywood (and British) fare.

Examiner, Sept. 21, 1956, p.4. An editorial all in favour of foreign films: how about enlarging your experience?

Projectionists: Ernest Young, C. Lloyd Newton, John J. Cooke, Thomas G. Vyse, John O’Leary, Vernon Fisk, Fred Cranham, Richard L. Long, Bob Micks.

Candy bar: Earlyne Mahood.

Cleaners, caretakers, or maintenance: Molly Jessup, Gladys Mahaffey, Gordon V. Gillespie.

Clerks: Beverly Bushby, Laura Fowler.

Other staff members included Donald A. Ivison, Ardent Savadant, Thomas Givens, Shirley Tyndall, Gertrude Wiggins, and Marion LeBrun.

Ted Copperthwaite remembers how, in working at the Odeon: “I would have to climb the stairs behind the screen in the pitch black to an old dressing room where the uniforms were kept to put the uniform on. At night around 10 I went down into the furnace room and shovel coal into the furnace.” It was, he says, “all part of being an usher.”



A visit to the Odeon Movie Club

Lining up just before ten o’clock on a Saturday morning for the “Odeon Movie Club,“ Dec. 29, 1956, on what looks to be a fairly warm winter’s day. Up the street the Capitol is showing “Two Rugged Hits” – Safari (1956, starring Victor Mature and Janet Leigh) and Raw Edge (1956, with Rory Calhoun and Yvonne de Carlo). The Odeon’s feature is June Allyson in You Can’t Run Away from It (released Oct. 31, 1956, Columbia Pictures), but the children would not be seeing that. Their program was Shirley Temple in Susannah of the Mounties (1939) plus cartoons and a chapter of the serial Son of Geronimo: Apache Avenger (1952, with Clayton Moore, famous for portraying “The Lone Ranger”). The kids are ready for fun and lined up all the way north to Charlotte St. Yolles Furniture is now where Comstock’s used to be, with Elliott’s Rexall Drugs and Swartz Furniture on the previously empty property in between. Coca Cola attendants sport white caps and soda fountain uniforms. The manager at the time was George C. Shepherd, and it appears that he might be there near the door, in the midst of children, with the bow tie and waving his arm. PMA Parks Studio, 99-035-00372; thanks also to Rick Mancini, who passed this to me.

Examiner, Oct. 26, 1956, p.7. Offering free Cokes and a “foreign coin” that day — not to mention a chance to win a plastic cooler.

Examiner, Dec. 28, 1956, p.7. This time the ad doesn’t mention the free Cokes, but judging by the photo taken on the 29th, they were definitely on offer — and gladly accepted.

Inside the Odeon that day, Dec. 29, 1956. “Raise your Coca Cola bottles!” PMA Parkes Studio, Odeon interior 2 99-035-00372.

Happy 8th anniversary — greetings from Woolworth’s

The Woolworth’s store, on the corner just up the street, was apparently delighted to make an 8th anniversary cake for the Odeon. The theatre invited moviegoers to guess the weight of the cake; the winner got a free pass to the theatre. December 1955. PMA, P-14-377-1.

The happy bakers display the anniversary cake, week of December 12, 1955. PMA, P-14-377-2.

Examiner, Nov. 2, 1957, p.7. The Peterborough Theatre Managers get together, with movies and a stage show, to fundraise for a community cause.

Examiner, July 4, 1961, p.18.

Shifting competition and ownership

Boxoffice, Aug. 28, 1961, p.6. Neither Chalmers nor Gilmor stayed long in town.

As movie theatres go, the Odeon had a relatively long life — and the theatre building itself was certainly well enough constructed to last well into the twenty-first century.

Two of the three competing theatres, the Regent and Centre, closed in 1949 and 1956 respectively. For almost a decade and a half the remaining three – Odeon, Paramount, and Capitol – worked side by side to attract crowds, succeeding even against the inroads of television, the culture of the automobile, and the other growing amusements of the postwar era.

After the Capitol closed in 1961, leaving only two theatres in town, another major shift also occurred that same year.

Examiner, Nov. 21, 1959, p.20. Publicity in a period in which the movie audience tended to the youthful. Odeon manager Blondell mingles with a “jukebox idol” known more for his music than his movies (this was his first). In Hound Dog Man, a local reviewer said, the young star had “plenty of excuses . . . to let loose with his quite ordinary voice.”

Famous Players and Odeon — the “mutually beneficial duopoly” that had for a long time controlled Canadian movie distribution — now pooled their Canadian movie houses. According to their agreement, Odeon Theatres took over operation of the Paramount in Peterborough. It was perhaps the first time since the beginning of motion picture theatres in town — 1907 — that there was no competitive ownership.

Jim Chalmers, formerly of Odeon’s Ottawa and Brampton theatres, moved in to be general manager of the two surviving theatres, though his main concern would be the Paramount (with, at first, Kerry Gilmor primarily responsible for the Odeon). Gerald A. Sabourin became manager in 1962, and Robert P. Cleminson followed in 1963; it appears that Odeon set up their living arrangements, because both of them lived, successively, at 497 Gilmour St. In the early 1960s managers came and went in rapid succession as they were shuffled around from one Odeon to another.

By 1970 Howard Binns (who had been at the Paramount since 1962) was general manager of both the Odeon and Paramount. He remained at the helm of the Odeon until around 1983 and lived in Peterborough for the rest of his life.

Examiner, May 14, 1962, p.22. The joint ownership offers a guarantee.

In February 1962 the combined managements of the Paramount and Odeon presented movie-lovers with a question: “Do you prefer to see one big movie at a time or a couple on the same program?” The Paramount would screen “only the big, spectacular type films,” such as Spartacus (now showing), and the Odeon would feature (though not exclusively) double bills.


Examiner, May 27, 1961, p.20. The Odeon has a short foreign film festival.

Examiner, Oct. 16, 1961, p.34. Under new manager Kerry Gilmor, a rare ad that includes testimonials from local moviegoers. An Examiner reviewer on Oct. 22 was inclined to differ, deciding that it was neither good nor bad, but “middling.” Presenting the story of a German prisoner of war camp (akin to a “poor man’s YWCA”), the movie “is too detailed to be called a farce and too flippant to be called wholesome comedy.”

Examiner, March 20, 1963, p.28. Decidedly youth-oriented, and when Elvis was still king and the most popular draw in town.

Examiner, March 19, 1964, a local theatre party, with tie-ins. Image courtesy of Ken Brown.

Examiner, July 2, 1965, p.25. Popular fare of the time. But then the Odeon also screened Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? (1966) — a quite different story. I remember the long lineup.

Cathy Kelly lived on Armstrong Drive in Peterborough as a teenager from 1957 to 1963. She recalls:

“The Odeon and Paramount theatres were our favourites at the time (the Capitol didn't have the same appeal). We often sat through 2 showings of the films and in high school years would occasionally sneak a cigarette in the “loges” where smoking was permitted. It never seemed to matter if we were a bit late for the film – we just watched it and then caught the beginning in the 2nd showing. It was magic and seeing our favourite movies stars on the big screen was a teenager’s dream. The movie magazines were one thing, but this was special. I still remember the impact of Lawrence of Arabia (Peter O’Toole’s piercing blue eyes!).”

Sunday movies and The Beatles

The Odeon on a campaign to win the vote for Sunday movies. At the Paramount The Manchurian Candidate (U.S., October 1962) is showing. TVA, 211129-1 George Street Scenes October 1962 - April 1963 001.

Following a vote in the municipal election of December 1964, Sunday movies became a reality for the first time. The city’s vote was 7,212 for and 4,485 against. Despite the city being a thoroughly Christian terrain, a substantial majority voted in favour of Sunday screenings; and movie-lovers no longer had to wait for Sunday midnight to attend special shows.

The response, according to the theatre managers, was “amazing.” People came out to the Sunday movies not just from the city itself, but from the surrounding districts. The Odeon’s manager at the time, Fred Dorrington, had just moved to Peterborough from a theatre in Toronto. “I find,” he said, “that Sunday movies in Peterborough are as well patronized as in Toronto or elsewhere.” The new legal measure provided a bit of a boost to theatre attendance.

Youngsters lining up for a showing of the Beatles in A Hard Day’s Night (U.K., released July 7, 1964). The very first Beatles movie screened at the Odeon from Wednesday, Aug. 12, to Tuesday the 25th, 1964: 12 days. Here you can see the forlorn marquee of the abandoned Capitol just up the street. Photo by Nick Yunge- Bateman, TVA F340 869-12, Odeon Theater April 1964 to August 1964 - 012.

Photo by Nick Yunge-Bateman, TVA F340 869-11, Odeon Theater April 1964 to August 1964 - 011.

Big fans: Anthea Young, Sandra Whitehead, and Charmaine Finnemore do some research while they wait to get into the theatre to see A Hard Day’s Night. On the first day, Wednesday, teenagers began lining up at five in the morning — eight hours before the doors opened. These girls saw the film six times. Photo by Nick Yunge-Bateman, TVA F40869-1, Odeon Theater April 1964 to August 1964 - 001.

Inside, and plenty of popcorn. Photo by Nick Yunge Bateman, TVA F40869-7, Odeon Theater April 1964 to August 1964 - 007. These photos appeared in the Examiner on the third day of the screenings, Aug. 14.

On the Odeon screen. While the photos of the moviegoers show a decidedly young crowd, the film itself was cinematically one of the 1960s’ ground-breakers. As historian James Monaco writes, its “jump cuts, fast- and slow-motion, and other cleverness . . . influenced a spirit of innovation in Hollywood feature film editing.” Photo by Nick Yunge-Bateman, TVA, F40869-13 Odeon Theater April 1964 to August 1964 - 013.

Youngsters aged about 11 or 12 are leaving the Odeon, in March 1978, although they were not there to see the film announced on the marquee, Close Encounters of the Third Kind (which played at the theatre from Feb. 10 to March 16 (and was recommended as “Adult Entertainment”). The occasion was a “theatre party” for Examiner news carriers. TVA, Examiner photos, F340 Odeon Mar 13 1987006.

The party of Examiner boy and girl carriers inside the theatre that same day. There seems to be a slide projector set up on the seat in the middle of the first row. But popcorn was being enjoyed aplenty. TVA, Examiner photos, F340 Odeon Mar 13 1987006.

A few lucky news carriers pose with the Odeon manager, Howard Binns. The “next attraction” is Casey’s Shadow, starring Walter Mattau, which opened at the theatre on March 17. TVA, Examiner photos, F340 C2 13 March 1978 21a. This photo appeared in an Examiner ad aimed at attracting new carriers: March 17, 1978, p.22 and March 25, p.17.

The lineup for Star Wars: Return of the Jedi, in June 1983. Return of the Jedi (released May 25, 1983), was screened at the Odeon, in theatre 2, beginning Friday June 17 and continuing into August. Showing at Theatre 1: My Tutor, which was on only from June 13 to Thursday, June 23, so the photo must have been taken during that time. Trent Valley Archives, Examiner collection, F340.



The Odeon divides into two screening rooms



In the late 1960s and early 1970s, like other places Peterborough and its two theatres, the Paramount and Odeon, experienced an increased wave of interest generated at least in part by baby boomers, the “New Hollywood,” and a film culture that permeated life in a way that had not been seen since the 1940s. “It was at this specific moment in the 100-year history of cinema,” Susan Sontag wrote, “that going to movies, thinking about movies, talking about movies became a passion among university students and other young people. You fell in love not just with actors but with cinema itself.”

Now with only two downtown theatres and a population that had increased from about 49,000 in 1960 to some 60,000 in 1970, Peterborough again seemed to need more screens — and could more readily fill smaller auditoriums. Following a trend in other cities, the Paramount split itself into two screens in 1972. The Odeon followed suit by 1979, building a wall down the middle of its auditorium to create an additional screening room.

In January 1977 the Rank organization sold Odeon Theatres (Canada) to Michael Zaborchak (a pioneer in Canada’s drive-in theatre business) for $31.2 million. Zaborchak’s Canadian Theatres Group, a privately held corporation, consisted of 47 theatres, and he now added 131 more to form a new chain, Canadian Odeon Theatres Limited, the second-largest chain in the country.

By the end of the 1970s the rise of the multiplex theatre — beginning with the original Cineplex in the basement of Toronto’s Eaton Centre — had begun to revolutionize movie-going. In 1984 Zaborchak sold his Odeon theatres to Cineplex, and they became part of the Cineplex-Odeon chain. Peterborough’s Odeon ads in the Examiner became closely combined with notices for the new Cineplex-Odeon Lansdowne Place theatre called Cineplex 6 (est. 1980). Now the city had more but (again) smaller spaces in which to see films.

Examiner, July 26, 1984, p.17.

Examiner, July 26, 1984, p.17. The Odeon and Cineplex together.

Despite the advent of video and easy access to movies at home in the 1980s, going to the movies was by no means, as often predicted, at a dead end. Writing in the early 1990s, U.S. cinema historian Douglas Gomery looked at the last quarter of the twentieth century and saw a “renewed interest and more change in the movie theatre business than any time since the age of the movie palace.”

What was once the Odeon and later the Trent Cinemas is now the Showplace Performance Centre — with mostly live performances but still the occasional moving picture show. Photo by Krista English, Jan. 15, 2015.

In 1986 the Odeon fell into the hands of Ontario Cinemas, a separate branch of the Cineplex-Odeon chain. Overnight it was transformed, with its two screens, into the Trent Cinemas. That next day it was still screening the same movies that had been advertised a day earlier for the Odeon, and it had the same manager, Douglas Hall.

After Trent Cinemas closed down in 1995, the space was transformed once again into a single auditorium that would take on yet another long-lasting life. Local theatre advocate Beth McMaster, along with Erica Cherney and other “visionaries” (in the words of Trent University professor and writer Michael Peterman) “spearheaded” a drive to raise funds and purchase the Odeon and turn it into a “first-class performance centre.” The community-run Showplace Performance Centre, seating more than 600, opened in October 1996. Its accent is on live performances — but, if you’re lucky enough (and in non-pandemic times) you can still see motion pictures: most notably (though not exclusively) at the annual ReFrame Film Festival.

Robert Clarke