In the 1890s and early 1900s, when moving pictures were making their first appearance in Australia, the dominant form of mass entertainment was music hall and vaudeville – live variety shows staged in halls and theatres of various sizes, featuring singers, dancers, musicians and novelty acts of many kinds. When entrepreneurs first brought the odd reel of moving picture – along with the complex and mysterious apparatus needed to show them – it might have seemed that they were simply supplying another novelty (albeit a sensational one) to add to music hall programs. Indeed, to start with, moving pictures seemed no more than a fascinating evolution of the old magic lantern exhibitions which had been in existence for many years. The first films to be shown in Australia, by an illusionist named Carl Hertz, were short reels of live action at London’s Westminster Bridge and other scenes. The first screening was in Melbourne in 1896, with demonstrations of the new sensation occurring in Sydney later that year.

The first films of Australian scenes are credited to Frenchman Maurice Sestier, who brought a Lumiere Cinematographe machine to Australia with the help of Australian photographer Walter Barnett and filmed some scenes around Sydney Harbour. The pair also filmed the 1896 Melbourne Cup and put together a programme of moving pictures so compelling in its novelty and interest that it ran for three months at Sydney’s Criterion Theatre and made a literal fortune. Ten years later, entrepreneurs were speculating on films they bought from overseas and by now many of these films were of the story-telling variety, rather than mere collections of scenes.

According to John Baxter, in his 1970 book, The Australian Cinema, showmen who could get their hands on projection equipment and some foreign films stood a good chance of earning a solid return:

“Prices were lower than for vaudeville or the drama, and the diet of comedy, overseas newsreel and trick films fascinated audiences of the time. It was nothing to fill a 1700-seat theatre at both the matinee and evening shows on a Saturday, and have respectable numbers for the rest of the week. Films when worn or unpopular were bought by independent showmen who travelled to the suburbs and country towns, showing them in church halls or even shearing sheds with makeshift and explosive limelight projectors. Around the suburbs of Sydney and Melbourne tent showmen erected their marquees and drew enormous crowds happy to pay threepence and sixpence for a night’s entertainment.”

In time, it became apparent that moving pictures could be very effective drawcards on their own and, to begin with, one obvious way to maximise profits from these novel offerings was to take them on tour. Travelling picture show operators would book a hall and advertise their planned arrival in advance, carting their reels of film and apparatus over long distances with horse-drawn vehicles.

As more and more films became available – mostly produced overseas, but some created in Australia – more people realised the potential profitability of what was clearly a burgeoning new industry. Competition became pronounced. In the bigger population centres a good film could run for quite a season, so it made sense to set up semi-permanent display premises to avoid the risk of bad weather cancelling a show. Some of the early establishments tended to be cobbled together with canvas and makeshift seating, but over time as it became apparent that there was going to be a steady supply of engaging film content available, the makeshift “picture palaces” became more permanent and, in time, they became landmark features in their own right. Of course, the moving picture industry followed the trend of most other profitable businesses, with ownership and control becoming more concentrated over time. More or less exclusive relationships between movie studios, distributors and cinema operators tended to drive out smaller players.

In Newcastle, NSW, the development of moving pictures followed the arc described above, with travelling movie features giving way to semi-permanent then permanent cinemas in what became a significant industry with a largely concentrated ownership. At the height of cinema, Newcastle had a handful of venues that deserved the designation of “picture palaces” – generally financed by big national conglomerates – and a bevy of smaller suburban venues disparagingly described by some as “flea pits”. The early operators in this developing business were inevitably very interesting characters, having cut their teeth in the capital cities and as travelling exhibitors. What follows are some sketches of some of those characters.

Will Herbert was a colourful entrepreneur who made a big mark in Newcastle, operating movie houses at Broadmeadow and Islington. According to an article by former Newcastle Herald writer and amateur historian Norm Barney, Will Herbert was born in New Hampshire in 1867 and left home at 16 to work for Forepaugh’s Circus. Two years later he became a baker in Boston, then opened a cafe in New York. Next he became a steward on a ship trading between San Francisco and Asian ports. He is said to have been commissariat officer on ship that took troops to Cuba and then later took on the same role in the Philippines, where US troops were putting down a rebellion. This conflict ran from 1899 to 1902.

According to an article by Leo Butler in The Newcastle Morning Herald of April 13, 1946, it was while Will Herbert was in the Philippines around the turn of the nineteenth century that he became interested in “photoplays”. It was reported that he had a friend in the US send him a small limelight cinematograph and a large assortment of short films which he exhibited for the entertainment of the troops. Finding that the local Asian population was especially keen on the films, he took his equipment and a small vaudeville troupe on a tour of Chinese coastal cities. When his tour was stopped by the outbreak of the Boxer Rebellion, he returned to the USA via Japan and opened a picture show in Seattle. According to Norm Barney’s article Herbert “rented a roomy shop in the main street, tore down its frontage and replaced it with a bright entrance and lights, put in a small stage and opera seats and opened for business.”

Will arrived in Australia in 1905, bringing with him a film of a boxing match – the Britt-Nelson world lightweight championship – and exhibited in the Queens Hall in Pitt Street, Sydney before touring Australia with the film. Such features were a novelty at the time and he reported making good money from the tour. He told the reporter how, in Queensland, a spool of the film caught fire and he lost four rounds of the fight. He didn’t tell anybody and simply repeated four of the fight’s 20 rounds: apparently none of the audience noticed. Next he formed a company called the Anglo-American Bio Tableau and toured New Zealand with a show that apparently consisted of two singers and moving pictures.

In 1907, having had enough of touring, Will Herbert – now married to Sydney girl Margaret Lavine – settled in Newcastle – where he had exhibited previously – and by his own account screened films at the Victoria Theatre in Perkins Street, at Central Hall (King Street), Kings Hall (later the RSL building in Perkins Street) and the Lyric Theatre. He and his wife Margaret managed a busy circuit, including some suburban halls, at a time when a popular feature could pull thousands of patrons.

Herbert started his own “No. 1 Show” venue outdoors at the Hamilton rugby ground and it seems this proved lucrative. The Squatter’s Daughter, for example, screened on the Rugby Ground, is said to have earned 63 pounds, equating to about 5000 patrons. According to information in the book Front Stalls or Back?, by K. Cork and L. Tod, Herbert’s “No. 2 Show” opened on the corner of Maitland Road and Beaumont Streets, Islington, in December 1911. Constantly improving his offering, Herbert added a canvas roof in 1912 and later enclosed the whole show within a timber and iron structure. The old “shows” were evolving into “picture palaces” and when Herbert opened up at Broadmeadow in 1912 it was under the name “Herbert’s No. 1 Picture Palace”.

According to Leo Butler’s Herald article: “Mr Herbert had the ‘gas tank’ type of projector which was hand-operated. In the Islington Theatre he had a small engine which was continually breaking down. Finally it blew a cylinder head and Mr Herbert went to Sydney to see if he could get another motor. While he was away Mrs Herbert saw Newcastle Council and they told her that if she could get 12 customers for electric power they would extend the electricity line from Hamilton Station to the picture show”. The highly competent Mrs Herbert ran the Islington operation while Will managed Broadmeadow.

As technology changed and audiences grew fussier, Herbert improved his offering. In 1923 he took over a theatre in Beaumont Street, Hamilton, later renamed Herbert’s Roxy Theatre. In 1924 he remodelled his Broadmeadow theatre – cleverly building new structure around the old one to avoid losing income – renaming it Herbert’s Theatre De Luxe. In 1929 he also rebuilt his Islington theatre as the Regent, which boasted “the very latest and most modern Talkie Equipment”. The opening night program continued: “This remarkable equipment has been assembled and installed by Western Electric System’s own technical experts, and represents a colossal expenditure. The management has signed contracts with the leading Film Manufacturing Companies, and announces with pleasure that patrons of the New Regent and Broadmeadow Theatres will see and hear the wonder of Talkies under conditions more favourable than the City Theatres”. Apart from his own theatres he apparently managed some, including the Victoria, for other owners.

According to Will Herbert’s grandson, John Murray, Herbert was a senior Mason. He also loved fancy cars. One of his cars was a big Studebaker. Another was a massive black Packard with a safe under the back seat, a gun cabinet at the front and a cocktail cabinet. Had a chauffeur and bodyguard, and used to drive around on Friday nights to collect the cash takings from his theatres. The car itself functioned as a night-safe, John said.

Will Herbert sold his theatre interests in 1933 to Newcastle Amusements (he remained in a management role until he retired in 1941) and they eventually came under the control of screen giant Hoyts. The Roxy closed in August 1953, the Regent in June 1964 and the Century – the splendid edifice that replaced the De-Luxe at Broadmeadow – shut in September 1973, later falling victim to the aftermath of Newcastle’s 1989 earthquake.

A two-part biographical article about William Herbert can be found in The Newcastle Herald of 1918, here and here. He died on November 11, 1947, aged 80.

Around the time that Will Herbert was showing his fight film in Sydney in 1905, another pioneer entrepreneur, Phelan’s New Electric Biograph Company, was also in Sydney, showing the film Jones’s Trip to the Moon at the Centenary Hall in York Street. John Stephen “Daddy” Phelan was to become well-known in the Newcastle area, operating a busy suburban circuit and permanent cinemas at Wallsend and Lambton.

John Phelan was born in Bacchus Marsh, Victoria, in 1852 and is said to have spent some of his early years on the Victorian goldfields. He married Eliza Stanton and the couple had six children. According to an article in The Newcastle Sun, John Phelan was interested from an early age in showing magic lantern slides. “When moving pictures came in he turned his attention to them. After three years’ experimental work he opened his first show in Victoria,” the article stated. At some point Phelan left his wife and farm near Bendigo in Victoria and in about 1899 he began travelling with a cinematograph. At first he used a horse and cart to move his equipment but by the 1900s he bought a pair of steam-powered buses from the NSW Government and fitted them up for the use of his film business. Phelan’s Electric Biograph toured extensively around Victoria, NSW and Queensland, showing a constantly changing repertoire of mostly short films. This 1904 review from The Bendigo Advertiser gives a sense of the offering:

Upwards of 500ft of new films were shown, including some beautiful colored electrical and mechanical effects. The “Naval Combat”, a thrilling portrayal of a sea fight, proved one of the most popular pictures presented. Several clever pictorial illusions were also exhibited, and the operaphone rendered some capital reproductions of songs by Madame Melba. Many of the views are quite new, and some rather astonishing effects are produced.

By 1908 Phelan appears to have made his home base at the Newcastle suburb of Wallsend, where he apparently believed the mining community would provide a steady income. His eldest son Edward (Ted) worked with him and Edward’s expertise with electrical equipment was a great advantage to the film show operation. In time, it seems, others of his children also joined him in the business.

The book Front Stalls or Back? suggests that Phelan for some time had two operations close together at Wallsend (Cowper Street, next to the School of Arts and opposite the railway station) and Plattsburg (88 Nelson Street). When Phelan took over the Cowper Street operation from its previous managers he reportedly renamed it the Prince Edward. The Nelson Street theatre, also known as Phelan’s Pleasure Park, was transformed over the years from a basic structure with dirt floor and galvanised iron walls attached to tree trunk supports to a somewhat more civilised structure boasting a metal roof.

In a 1983 article in The Newcastle Herald, writer Linda Doherty interviewed Daddy Phelan’s great-grandson, Jim Taylor, who had been researching the Phelan movie business. In that article Edward Phelan was credited with assembling Newcastle’s first Talkie apparatus in 1929, using instructions from a book. Phelan’s generator was also said to have provided power to some Wallsend homes for a period of time.

Stern and bearded Daddy Phelan was a formidable character, allegedly given to administering spontaneous corporal punishment to his spool boy if he caught the lad cranking the handle at the wrong speed. He was also a crack shot with a rifle and was reputed to have given free demonstrations of clay pigeon shooting when he arrived at a new town in his travelling showman days, to deter would-be thieves. Daddy Phelan was in his 80s when he died at his Wallsend home on October 15, 1935.

Phelan’s theatre at 88 Nelson Street was famous for its rustic appeal. Tree trunks held up the iron roof (which is reputed to have leaked in the rain). In 1983 Jim Taylor released a record album titled Phelan’s Magic Picture Show, featuring a very pleasant folksy song by the same name. Newcastle entertainment identity Rex Sinclair recorded some recollections of Phelans in which he describes how the local brass band played outside the theatre on Saturday nights to attract attention to the show. Boys would clamour to hold the tallow lamps by which the players read their sheet music because doing that job meant free admission. Sinclair described the theatre as a long wooden building with no circle but a long ramp with steps at the back. The entrances were at the front on either side of the white painted metal screen, which was said to have been the largest in the Newcastle area. The screen was at the street end of the building. There was a lolly stall at the side the theatre and the operating box was like a pie stall, in the centre of the theatre alongside the water tap – which invariably created a river down the middle of the floor.

The Phelans sold the business in 1943 and the theatre screened its last show in February 1961.

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