The Odeon's final evening

As I begin writing this, at 11.30pm on Tuesday 26 November 2002, the Odeon Cinema in Newcastle’s Pilgrim Street will have closed its doors to the public for the final time.

Yesterday, I went to see ‘Die Another Day’ at the Odeon, which was being shown on Screen 4 - possibly the most modern of the four cinemas, having been added around 1980, but also the one with the least architectural interest! However, I did use the opportunity to take a couple of nighttime photographs of the exterior [Photo 1].

I had thought that would be the final time I would go to the Odeon, but it didn’t take long to decide that I had to go back, just once more while I still could, to experience a film in the Newcastle Odeon’s flagship auditorium, Screen 1.

Hence, I decided to get tickets for today’s 7.30pm screening of ‘Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets’ - the last ever film to be shown in Screen 1. Going to the cinema twice in two days is not something I usually do, but it isn’t every day that a cinema closes after 71 years, especially one that is so unique, and holds so many memories.

Not sure whether there would be a high demand for tickets, I decided to buy them in advance. So, I got to the Odeon around 2pm, and duly purchased two tickets for Harry Potter. Looking around, it seemed hard to imagine that by tomorrow, this building would have shut for good. Apart from the lettering on the front of the cinema, saying ‘Last Showing 26 November’, there were no obvious signs of the impending closure. Everything looked just the same as normal.

An ulterior motive for going to the Odeon in the afternoon was also to see if I might be permitted to take some photographs of the lobby and balcony area. The cinemas themselves would obviously be inaccessible, given that they would be screening films. Sadly, even my Northumbria University business card was not enough to persuade the lady at the customer services desk. "No, I’m sorry", she said. "The owners have said that no-one is allowed to take any photographs. I’ve just had to tell the same thing to another gentleman."

While accepting that the owners, Cinven, had every right to set their rules, it did seem to me that letting people take photographs would have been a welcome gesture on this final day, given the support that the Odeon has had from local people over so many years. Perhaps the owners were scared that anyone recording the architectural features of the interior might use these to restate the case for the building’s listing...

I returned to the Odeon, with friend in tow, at 7pm. We ascended the carpeted grand staircase to the first floor, noticing its original metal balustrades, and arrived at what was once the main circle foyer - now, essentially, the waiting area for Screen 1. A number of other cinemagoers were already waiting, and given that the previous film in Screen 1 was still showing, we joined them in the queue.

Notwithstanding the lack of obvious fanfare surrounding the occasion, it was clear that most of the others waiting for the film were there for the same reason as me. Many were taking the opportunity to take in the architectural details, and enjoy the quality of space. Others chatted about the building, their memories of it, and what might happen to it in the future. One or two discreetly took photographs. Taking the plunge myself, I took out my camera, which had been secreted in my coat pocket, and took a couple of snaps - a view of the circle foyer [Photo 2], and a close up of one of the beautiful light fittings [Photo 3]. No flash, though - discretion was the order of the day! Who would have thought that taking photographs would need to be such a covert operation? Perhaps it was a good thing that my friend waited until I had taken the photographs before he commented on the security camera pointing in my direction.

As the previous screening of Harry Potter finished, its satisfied audience flowing from the auditorium into the foyer, I overheard a woman saying that a lad had had his camera confiscated for taking photographs. In light of this, I decided that my coat pocket was indeed probably the safest place for my camera.

We entered the auditorium, and chose our seats in the front row of the circle, saving an appreciative glance for the attractively coloured Art Deco light fittings illuminating the side walls. Down on the stage, there was another camera flash as a woman stood smiling in front of the screen while her husband caught the moment on film. Still perturbed at the prospect of confiscation, I held the camera in my lap and pointed it towards the ceiling, getting a shot of the ceiling rose [Photo 4] - rather forlorn looking without the light fitting which presumably hung from it in the past. Studying the ceiling, the man in the row behind commented to his female friend "You’d have thought they could have replaced the light bulbs for the final night." Then again, why would they bother?

The lights dimmed and the curtains across the screen pulled open, the auditorium perhaps only a quarter full - although given its capacity of over 1000, not so surprising. Those in the audience were not generally people you might expect to be Harry Potter fans - for a start, there were hardly any children! However, I suspected that for a good number of those present, the attraction was not so much the film itself, as the setting and circumstances in which it was being shown.

After what seemed like a never-ending set of adverts and trailers (no concessions there, even for the last night), the curtains drew back across the screen, the lights came on again, and the general manager of the Odeon, Peter Talbot, stepped out onto the stage. So, the historic evening wasn’t to go unmarked by Odeon after all.

Mr Talbot gave a short but moving speech, saying that for him the audience there tonight represented a snapshot of the 55 million people - the equivalent of the UK’s entire population - who had passed through the cinema’s doors over the previous 71 years. While feeling some sadness at the end of an era - "They don’t make cinemas link this any more", he said - he was also excited about the opportunities presented by the Odeon’s new, "all singing, all dancing 12-screen multiplex, less than a quarter of a mile from here at The Gate." As Mr Talbot drew to a close, the audience applauded, the lights dimmed and the curtains opened once more, and we finally began our journey into the Chamber of Secrets.

After about three hours of Harry and his chums (and having sat through the credits, in order not to miss the short bonus scene at the very end of the film), the auditorium had nearly cleared, and it was time for us to leave. There were a few more flashes, as the woman in the row behind us got her camera out and began taking some photographs of the auditorium. Sensing safety in numbers, I took my own camera out once again, and got a couple of shots myself - daringly, using the flash this time [Photo 5] [Photo 6]. As we were leaving, I caught a glimpse of the usher wandering over to the other woman, and heard him say "I’m not sure you’re meant to take photographs in here…" But he was friendly enough, and I sensed that he didn’t really mind.

It felt strange walking out the front door of the Odeon, perhaps never to return. As we left, I remarked to my friend: "Hopefully before too long we will be able to go back inside this building."

Waiting for the Number 1 bus home, directly opposite the Odeon, I took a few more shots of the outside of the building, lit up for what will presumably be the final time [Photo 7] [Photo 8]. I was not the only one - a number of others, young and old alike, and not all of whom had been in the cinema this evening, were having their photographs taken in front of the building, wanting to capture the moment on film. Emerging from the building, the woman who had been sat in the row behind crossed the road towards us, laughing - "Everyone’s taking photographs!" she exclaimed.

As we boarded the bus and headed off towards home, I reflected on what had been a very enjoyable evening. The film itself, it has to be said, was very good, certainly as good as the first Harry Potter movie. Together with the other factors - Peter Talbot’s speech; the sense of camaraderie with the other cinemagoers; and, above all, the sense that history was being made around us - it made for a very special, very memorable evening. It reinforced why the building is so special - not just as somewhere that holds happy memories, but also as a place where the qualities of detail, lighting and space create somewhere that is genuinely delightful and uplifting.

Tonight was a one off - and whatever the future holds for the Odeon, I’ll always be glad that I was there.

Graham Soult
27/11/02

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