The 1900s — and the Advent of Nickel Theatres
Examiner, July 25, 1907, p.8.
In the middle of the first decade of the 20th century nickelodeons were springing up everywhere across North America to celebrate and demonstrate – and capitalize on – the amazing phenomenon of photographic pictures that moved. In Peterborough — now with a population of around 15,000 people — three different five-cent theatres arrived in 1907.
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Scott’s Colloseum, Wonderland, and Crystal
“Messrs. George Scott & Co., being the pioneers of moving picture photography of Canada for Canadians, the public can be assured to a series of meritorious exhibitions worthy of the support of all classes. The pictures are the delight and delectation of children as well as of ladies, who are guaranteed that nothing will be presented that can offend the most sensitive taste.”
Examiner, Jan. 26, 1907, p.11.
Examiner, April 1, 1907, p.7. Early on it was “Cowboys and Indians”: establishing a popular genre from the very beginning, one that would dominate for decades. Indigenous peoples in Canada – marginalized, locked into poverty, relegated to residential schools, without the right to vote until the mid-20th century – were “excluded from the realm of power” but not from the screens, with fixed and offensive stereotypes in place.
Examiner, Feb. 9, 1907, p.12.
Scott’s Colloseum, 432 George Street — the building occupied for many years recently by Christensen Fine Art Gallery — was the first standalone motion picture theatre established in Peterborough, opening on Jan. 29, 1907. Its storefront site had previously been the home of an “Automatic Vaudeville” enterprise (or penny arcade, with motion pictures), and before that a plumbing and electrical supplies shop. George Scott, an Englishman born in India — and the cameraman behind The Great Toronto Fire (1904) — had established a motion picture business in Toronto, but decided to try his luck in Peterborough.
The Colloseum (in some records, spelled “Coliseum”) was quickly followed that same year by two other five-cent storefront theatres, Wonderland (opened on July 27, 1907), 445 George St., and The Crystal (Sept. 23, 1907), 408 George. Wonderland was on the west side of George St., a few doors north of Brock. The Crystal was on the east side, north of Hunter, in “the Crystal Building,” which survives to this day — you can see an old awning with the name “The Crystal” on it as you walk along the block.
Examiner, July 30, 1907, p.6. With a program of 30 minutes (perhaps two reels of film plus live music), people came and went continuously. Like the other nickel theatres, it had perhaps a couple of hundred seats, if that — in its case, on boards stretched out over wooden kitchen chairs. The floors, a later account said, were covered with sawdust. The owners were reported as J.W. Lamb and F.A. Stutt, both “late of Toronto.”
Examiner, Aug. 2, 1907, p.8. Wonderland, with its “beautiful scene” (that is, a moving picture) for a nickel competed against the higher prices of a live performance (though with lots of startling electrical effects) at the Grand Opera House (ranging from 25 to 75 cents).
Examiner, Sept. 24, p.11. “Miss Edwards” was the daughter of the owner, Wesley A. Edwards.
Daily Evening Review, Sept. 28, 1907, p.1. “Rid yourself of all worry and trouble . . .” The Crystal was a step up from the Wonderland in design, with 150 comfortable seats and a specially built entrance-way with a “graceful arch.”
Examiner, Feb. 1, 1908, p.1. The Crystal had Bluebeard for a nickel; the Grand Opera House, in addition to the live play, had motion pictures, including a boxing match, for fifteen cents and up.
Examiner, July 9, 1907, p.8. The Colloseum moved to Jackson Park on June 12, taking over a semi-enclosed structure previously used as a box ball or bowling alley — while advertising itself quite boldly as having “the finest moving pictures in all Canada.”
Examiner, Nov. 1, 1907, p.8.
Daily Review, Nov. 11, 1907, p.1.
The promotional gimmicks to lure patrons began early — as here, at the Crystal — and would continue until at least well into the 1950s. In this case the theatre and the two newspapers that published the ad — the Daily Review and Examiner — were committed to trial for engaging in a lottery. The case was later dismissed.
Both the Colloseum and Wonderland had relatively short lives. After moving over to Jackson Park and remaining in operation there until the end of July 1907, the Colloseum quietly disappeared (along with its owner, George Scott) from town a few months later. Wonderland closed in March 1908. The Crystal lasted considerably longer, though it would go through two name changes in the following decade.
Mike Pappas establishes the Royal Theatre
Examiner, Dec. 22, 1908, p.7.
The Colloseum, Wonderland, and Crystal were all storefront theatres — or “theatoriums,” as they often called them. On Dec. 19, 1908, a Greek immigrant and cigar-store merchant, Mehail Pappakeriazes (soon known as Mike Pappas), opened the first space purposely constructed, over months and at considerable cost, as a motion picture theatre: The Royal, at 344–48 George Street, in a vacant space next to the Bradburn building (and once the home of the Times Printing company and bookstore). It had about 600 seats. The Royal would remain in business until 1925 (with a slight intermission from 1919 to 1921, when it became “the Allen”).
All the early theatres offered both short silent films and live music — with an “illustrated song,” all (at least at first) for five cents. Films tended to be sold to exhibitors one reel at a time (about 900 to 1,000 feet, perhaps ten minutes long).
Moving Picture World, Dec. 12, 1908, p.475.
The illustrated songs — which became a regular feature of the program from the beginning of the nickel theatres in 1907 until around 1913 — had their critics.
The opening of the Princess Theatre
In October 1909 a third theatre joined the Crystal and the Royal. The Princess Theatre, at 415 George St., was yet another house plunked down quickly into a storefront space nicely renovated for the occasion. It had about 250 seats.
Examiner, Oct. 9, 1909, p.14.
Examiner, Oct. 15, 1909, p.11.
Examiner, Oct. 20, p.11.
And here, on that opening day of the Princess, arrives a future star of the screen — perhaps the biggest star, along with Chaplin, of the next twenty years. The one-reel film Pippa Passes — which had a subtitle, The Song of Conscience — had been released just the week before by the U.S. Biograph company; it was based on a dramatic poem by Robert Browning, and directed by D.W. Griffith. But it had another distinction: its cast included Toronto’s Mary Pickford in a bit role as a “girl in a crowd.” It was the first year of making films for the Toronto-born actor — but she had already appeared in about thirty-six short films, all uncredited (which was the norm at that time before stars, or even directors, got credit on screen).
These early motion picture theatres relied both on newspaper advertising and street traffic (they would have sidewalk displays out front) and maybe even “barkers” to draw in their audiences (and probably word of mouth helped as well). The silent pictures were not exactly silent; they were accompanied by music — certainly a pianist and often a group of musicians — and sometimes sound effects delivered from up front, near or even behind the screen. In the beginning they were also short, with a few reels being shown and taking up only a half hour or 40 minutes. Sometimes they didn’t even advertise in the newspaper; posters outside would announce the day’s shows. The enterprising theatre owner Mike Pappas had yet another unique way of advertising his theatre, as in the image below.
This was among a number of pieces found at the old Mattress Factory on Mark Street. Thanks to Robin and Hermione Rivison, who found this and other discarded pieces of marble when they moved into what was the Mattress Factory. Photo by Ken Brown.
Right: An ad not in a newspaper, but on a marble plaque sitting on a hotel table: “Mirth and Melody . . . Refined Vaudeville . . . Latest & Best Moving Pictures” — and all for five cents! It dates most likely from 1909—early 1910: the Royal’s nickel ticket price went up to ten cents on July 25, 1910, so Pappas would probably not have gone to the expense of such an item after that. The plaque was a piece of a larger marble table top that might have been made for the drinking area of the Oriental Hotel on Hunter Street.