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When we first entered a cinema, we found ourselves in a reception area known as a foyer with a cashier's cubicle where we paid our money. Various colourful placards and a small sales stall was also there. The placards changed frequently, so that there was always something new for customers to admire.
Our Ritz cinema was almost certainly not unique in being really sumptuous inside, with everywhere except the toilets carpeted, and with superb decor and lighting.
During the showing of Caesar and Cleopatra with Claude Rains and Vivian Leigh in 1945, the whole building was transformed into an Egyptian Temple with props from the film.
From the foyer there was an elegant curved flight of stairs leading to the balcony - known as the circle - and a set of double doors leading to the one large theatre. (Splitting cinemas up into several smaller theatres was years away.)
The seats in the main theatre were known as the stalls. I seem to remember three sets of prices. The front stalls were the cheapest because necks cricked looking up at the screen, and the back stalls were the most expensive - a price that courting couples were glad to pay.
At the front of the theatre was a stage with a large screen and thick curtains at either side which opened and closed to indicate the start and finish of the day's performance.
Behind the curtains, but in front of the screen was a fire curtain which I understood had, by law, to be raised and lowered once every day that the cinema was open.
I was always fascinated by the colourful and brightly lit organ which played while customers were waiting for the film to begin. I can't remember what the organist played, but I clearly remember how the whole organ was raised up for all to see while the organist was playing, and then how it was slowly lowered to below eye level for the films.
In the same pit as the organ was space for an orchestra.
The Regal only ever had one organ - a superb 'Christie' organ with 4 manuals and 14 ranks of pipes. The console started life with a large glass surround, but that was damaged in the 1940s. In 1947 Wurlitzer rebuilt the console and fitted the wooden sides visible in the photo. So the glass sided photo is older than the wooden sided one. The man in the white suit is Phil Park, the organist at the Regal in the 1930s and 40s. My father used to visit the Regal in his teens.
The Regal organ still exists. It was removed from the Regal prior to the cinema's sad demolition and was installed in a hall in Barry, south Wales where it played for many years. More recently it was removed from there and is now (2014) being installed in a new arts centre elsewhere in South Wales.
Cinema organs were pipe organs, similar to those in churches, but designed to sound more like orchestras. Only the organ console (the part the organist sits at) was visible and was often on a lift. The rest of the organ, which was usually a couple of tons or more of pipework and equipment, was situated behind a wall grill or under the stage.
At the cinema which I frequented, all the seats were on a floor which sloped upwards towards the back. As I have since seem cinemas with steps rather than a slope, I suppose some cinemas had steps too. The difference in height was necessary in order to be able to see over the heads of people in front, although tall men and women with hats could still obscure. It was pleasantest to sit behind a small child - but not in front of one as they tended to kick and the jolt could be felt through the back of the seat.
All the seats flipped up for cleaning and to allow people to move along a row.
The seats in the balcony were the most expensive, particularly at the front of the balcony.
There were customer lavatories, but I don't think I ever used them. See the box for the recollections of Desmond Dyer.
The toilets in our Ritz were 'a world apart' for most people. Compared to the outside loos at home and the Spartan and dim public toilets, the Ritz toilets were superb. They were fully tiled and well lit. They had hand basins with hot and cold running water and large mirrors, and there was lots of chrome. Everything was gleaming.
At the beginning of the afternoon and the end of the evening, the lights 'went up' but I don't remember them as particularly bright. I can't help wondering how clean the cinemas were.
We knew a lady who was a cleaner at the Regal in Edmonton. She would collect all the cigarette butts that were swept from the floor and take them home. Then she would sit at the kitchen table and with a sharp single edge razor blade would top and tail them, there were no tipped cigarettes in those days.
My father used to roll his own cigarettes around this time because it was cheaper than buying the packet variety. I wonder if he knew where the tobacco came from!
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Then she would slit open the paper and create a pile of tobacco, to which she added a very small amount of fresh tobacco. This she sold to a local newsagents shop which was then sold on as "under the counter rolling mix". Some people called it 'cough mixture'.