{"id":9171,"date":"2019-08-11T15:17:30","date_gmt":"2019-08-11T05:17:30","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.phototimetunnel.com\/?p=9171"},"modified":"2021-03-10T11:26:25","modified_gmt":"2021-03-10T00:26:25","slug":"the-phantom-of-the-victoria-theatre-and-other-cinema-tales","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.phototimetunnel.com\/the-phantom-of-the-victoria-theatre-and-other-cinema-tales","title":{"rendered":"The phantom of the Victoria Theatre and other cinema tales"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

THE entertainment Max Donnan enjoyed during his long career in Newcastle cinemas wasn\u2019t always on the big screen. Some of it came from the clientele, some came from the quirks and challenges of the various theatres and a little bit came from the ghost.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

That was the ghost at the old Victoria Theatre in Perkin Street, which rejoiced in Max\u2019s time in the full name \u201cBritish Victoria Theatre\u201d. The Vic has a treasured place in Max\u2019s memory, but he admits the ghost rattled him more than a little on the two occasions he encountered it. He was preparing to raise the curtain one Saturday night in the 1950s. In those days, Saturday nights were a big deal, so they got special treatment. The big stage curtains were pulled up and coloured footlights were played on the screen to a special fanfare. \u201cI was behind the scenes among the flyropes and I\u2019d picked out the right one to raise the curtain. I knew my cue in the music but, just before it came, I felt this strong nudge against my shoulder, like somebody giving me a shove, and I let go of the rope. The curtain came down instead of going up,\u201d Max said. That was the first time.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The next Saturday he was determined not to be diverted from his task, no matter what. But as he stood awaiting the cue, rope in hand, the big old grand piano on the stage nearby began to slowly move before his eyes. The show went on, of course, but Max still can\u2019t get the image of the rolling piano out of his mind, decades later. \u201cI heard later that a man had hanged himself in that part of the theatre, years before,\u201d Max said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Max Donnan. Photo by Greg Ray.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n\n\n\n
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Working in the Newcastle cinemas was a busy and many-faceted job, in times past. One job at the Vic involved making sure the big army-surplus V8 generator that provided the cinema\u2019s power didn\u2019t conk out. Sometimes that meant refuelling mid-movie, with the noisy engine running. Other times it was just ensuring the hose that ran continuously through the radiator was doing its job. The generator was under the main stage, towards the back,\nand was accessed through a door in Theatre Lane, the back alley from which\npatrons with seats in the \u201cgods\u201d \u2013 the high third tier of seating \u2013 began their\nsteep ascent.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The Vic didn\u2019t just show movies. It hosted live events too. Like the American negro act the Harlem Blackbirds, the New Zealand female impersonators The Kiwis and saucy Folies Bergere. Some very big names visited the theatre, with many leaving their names written on the dressing room walls. Max recalls, with a shudder of horror, the day a painter invited him to watch a demonstration of a new-fangled device called a roller that was making brushes redundant. \u201cBefore I could stop him he\u2019d cheerfully painted right over\nthe top of Harry Lauder, Joan Sutherland and a few more. I felt sick.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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