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The History of Cinema Exhibition in Exeter 1895 - 1918

Alex Rankin

(The text of this dissertation is copyright Alex Rankin, 2001. No part of it may be reproduced without the permission of the author.)

Chapter Five:

The First World War (1914–1918)

The War enhanced the cinema’s popularity, and the public needed little encouragement to attend in their millions.(151)

The Palladium restarted its advertisements a little over a month after war had been declared. The delay between the start of the war and the Palladium’s new advertising campaign in the Flying Post ties in perfectly with the amount of time it took the British Board of Film Censors (BBFC) to condone films dealing with war subjects:

The First World War itself initially presented the newly born BBFC with an insurmountable problem. The government would not allow any films to be made on the subject. Within weeks of the outbreak of war, however, the War Office relented because of the obvious propaganda value to be gained from feature films depicting vicious Huns attacking friendly Tommies.(152)

One of the first films to be advertised was obviously released with this propaganda potential in mind. The Palladium screened it as “‘German Atrocities’, a film taken on the spot showing the frightful devastation of Termonde and Melle”.(153) Directly next to this advertisement was an actual report of Termonde. Other films shown at the Palladium in the first months of the war included “‘By the Kaiser’s Orders’, an all British film dealing with the present war”,(154) “For Their Country”(155) and “Victoria Cross”.(156) This is not to say that war films were all that was on offer. As in America at the turn of the century when the Spanish conflict and Boer war were major stories, “War films did not monopolize the screen”(157) and there was still plenty of variety in the programme.

However, the conflict was obviously seen to be an important screen event and in addition to the feature films, of which the ones dealing with the war were a regular but not constant contributor, the Palladium also provided its customers with smaller war films and ‘news’ films shown on the “Gaumont Topical Gazette”. As Christmas approached, the Palladium approached the Council for the right to open on Christmas Day:

An application has been received from the Proprietor of the Palladium for permission to give cinematograph exhibitions in connection with a sacred concert, which will be held in the building after 3 p.m. on Christmas Day. Your Committee have given permission subject to the pictures being approved by the chairman in consultation with the Chief Constable.(158) Evidently there was no problem since the Palladium advertised its special Christmas shows which included, on Christmas Eve, a special programme that was free to wives and children of men serving at the front. Noticeably, this Christmas Eve production was sympathetically thought out and did not include any films dealing with the war, providing instead a Western and “Babes in the Wood”.(159)

For the first three months of 1915, films dealing with the war continued to be a frequent entertainment at the Palladium.(160) The advertisements for some of these shows, with their strong political slants, were strongly reminiscent of those used during the Boer war:

“The Bells of Rheims”, the superlative example of German “Kultur”. The Germans shell the Cathedral, an act deliberately committed without the shadow of a pretext on the ground of military necessity.(161)

Similarly, and just one month later:

The Great Topical War Drama entitled THE CHILD KILLERS, a true episode of the invasion of France, August 1914. The most touching film ever seen.(162)

It is not difficult to see that these advertisements and their films sought to control public opinion, ensuring continued support for the military and the government policies of the time. Indeed, some historians believe that the propaganda capabilities of the medium were at times so exploited that cinema became less about entertainment, and more about opinion:

Cate Haste has gone as far as to say that ‘the pictures’ were transformed from ‘an instrument for the amusement of the masses into an instrument for the manipulation of the masses’.(163)

Certainly, the cinematograph continued to find use as an enlisting aid – as it had done during the Boer War, although then it was not the prime motivation for the entertainment – and at a number of “call to arms meetings”, some of which were held at the Victoria Hall, there would be films on show.(164) Throughout these months of intense propaganda the Palladium maintained its popularity. Indeed, the Palladium’s popularity can only have increased when, in April, they reduced their prices and coupled this by switching from two nightly shows to one continuous performance which started an hour before they had previously opened. Patrons could now, if they so chose, stay for longer for less money. The change, the Palladium insisted, was “necessary ... [because of] the length of pictures being exhibited.”(165) The change also, of course, put them into the same format as the other picture palaces in the city (although the Palladium still only opened in the evening, not early afternoon as the others did), and perhaps, therefore, made them even more competitive.

Despite the Palladium’s popularity, and the massive interest in the War, the film that caused the most sensation in Exeter in 1915 was put on at the King’s Hall in May and had no connection with the conflict. The advertisement promised “The most wonderful combination of Pictures, Lectures, and Music ever produced” but it was perhaps the fact that the entertainment was free that really caught the public’s eye. The show was put on by a Christian society and dealt with the story of Creation. The Flying Post was certainly impressed and the preview of it was, perhaps appropriately given the size of the film, extensive:

To delineate the subject two miles of film are used, and these with pictures and panoramas require eight hours to present upon the canvas. Because of its length the production is divided into sections, which are shown in rotation, so that to witness the whole one must attend four performances.(166)

The article covering the details of this forthcoming attraction came complete with a series of illustrations from the film, something that must have been rather impressive given the usual complete lack of photographs in the paper. Unsurprisingly, given the extensive preview and the fact that it was free entertainment, the King’s Hall was packed during the shows and the reviews testified to the fact that the shows were not only successful, but enjoyable too.

For the remainder of the year the number of films dealing with subjects associated with the war dropped significantly. Indeed, at the Palladium in those seven months, only three feature films tackled war subjects. This was not limited to Exeter but appears to have been a national trend, The Times lamenting that the fact that the public seemingly did not want the patriotic films that had been a feature of cinemas in the early months of the war:

...there was not one film shown to give any idea of the work of the British Army or the British Navy. The whole audience looked forward to the antics of one Charlie Chaplin.(167)

At the Palladium this move away from war films resulted in two particular types of film becoming regular features in the programme. Serials were the first of these, the fifteen episodes of The Black Box and Exploits of Elaine attracting strong advertising and large audiences. Often the first one or two episodes would function as the feature film in the programme whilst the remaining films in the series would provide the named support. The other popular type of film that the Palladium increasingly put on was, as The Times had noted in its comments, the Keystone comedy. Indeed, the popularity of Keystone films was such that in August the Palladium was packed out for a special Keystone night. The success of this seems to have convinced the management as to what the public appreciated and just a couple of weeks later a Charlie Chaplin week was advertised. Chaplin’s popularity with the majority of the British public at this time was unequalled. Although he came in for massive criticism in certain areas of the press for failing to join the military, both the soldiers at the front and the public in Britain were keen for him to stay in the film business.(168) Despite the success of these films at the Palladium, however, it was to be some time before Chaplin films would be seen again, presumably as a result of the blockade which forced exhibitors to rely heavily on home produced fare when imports could not get through. When other Chaplin films did become available the following year, the Palladium made sure that it would benefit from their immense popularity:

The management of the Palladium beg to announce that they have secured the “Sole Exclusive Rights” of all CHAPLIN FILMS for Exeter. No Chaplin films have been seen in the City since August last. All new ones will be included in the Palladium programme at an early date.(169)

The ability of the Palladium to secure exclusivity indicates that they used the rental system. This system had begun to gain dominance in the British market around this time having coexisted with the open market for a number of years. In Exeter it was clear that the Palladium was likely to benefit most from renting since it had more money – as a result of its larger size and a bigger parent company – than the other cinemas:

...it gradually emerged that the exclusive had come to stay. For although the system was hard on the greater number of exhibitors whose finances were not adjusted to it, it was favoured by the powerful companies who could afford to pay high process.(170)

To complete its seemingly dominant year in the Exeter film business, the Palladium managed to again secure the unique right to open on Christmas Day. That no other film venue was given this privilege indicates that the Palladium was well thought of by the authorities whereas the others were perhaps seen as lesser places of entertainment. Certainly the City Palace felt the need to make itself seem more ‘upper-class’ when, in January 1916, it began to advertise that tea would be “daintily served 3.45–4.15”.(171) Seemingly then, although the middle classes had long since been attending moving pictures there was still a class divide regarding some venues. Quite how this divide was arranged is impossible to say given that all the principal venues (Empire, Palladium, City Palace and Franklin) underwent frequent cleaning and renovation work and could all boast of having similar facilities in the way of heating, ventilation and so on. Most likely, however, is that it was the Palladium’s size that accounted for its true acceptance; a socially mixed audience at the Palladium would not be forced to mingle so much as they would at the venues where space was at a premium, even though facilities like the balcony in the Empire offered some exclusivity. Also, of course, the Palladium had the added advantage that it had been converted from an established venue and was, perhaps, therefore immune to any snobbery regarding the new buildings that had once been grocers and working class restaurants.

Whilst all the programmes that the city venues ran seem to have been popular, 1916 was the first year when a significant number of individual films really began to attract attention. These individual films had to be big, expensive productions that could be heavily advertised and they had already proved popular abroad:

The bigger the spectacle – that is, the more battle scenes, the larger the sets, the greater the number of actors employed in such films as DANTE’S INFERNO, QUO VADIS? and CABIRIA – the more sensational the appeal to the Americans.(172)

This big spectacle appeal was by no means limited to America. Whilst the films that Bowser mentions had already been, or were set to be, shown in Exeter, the film that started the ‘spectacle trend’ in the city was Griffith’s The Birth of a Nation. This was screened at the Theatre Royal in June and the massive advertisements they used made it clear that this was a film that not only provided spectacular viewing, but also related to the nation’s current position:

The 8th Wonder of the World. A Soul-Stirring Appeal to every Briton. See the marvellous Battle-Scenes. See the regeneration of a Nation, as England will be reborn when the War is over. See the development of a new art – an epoch in Dramatic History. A Vivid Graphic Story of Anglo-Celt achievement which will make every ENGLISHMAN, WOMAN, and CHILD glow with pride, gasp with astonishment, and thrill with the marvellous realism.(173)

As well as the advert, there was also a big preview complete with a still from the film. Unsurprisingly, the Theatre was full throughout the film’s visit and the press reviews were particularly complimentary. Not to be outdone, the Palladium achieved a considerable coup when it acquired the official government film, Battle on the Somme. The film had been produced to show the public what life was like in the trenches (and was, of course, carefully sanitised) and achieved considerable appreciation in Exeter, the scene of the men going over the top receiving special attention. That this scene was faked(174) was not noticed by the reporters of the Flying Post who approved of the British soldiers’ bravery (and especially that of the young officer) in racing out to meet the Germans. Indeed, the Exeter press liked the film so much that their extensive review also defended the film against the criticism it had been receiving, as well as recommending that future films should not allow for any compassion to be directed towards the enemy:

Objection to it has been raised in some parts of the country on the ground that it exploits the sufferings of our troops and that it is unduly gruesome, but we have heard no endorsement of this opinion in Exeter .... The only alteration we would suggest is the compression of the incident recording the burial of the German dead.(175)

Films like Birth of a Nation and Somme seem to contravene Nicholas Hiley’s notion that between “1895 and 1920, the individual film was of little significance”.(176) Certainly, regarding the earlier years, this statement is undoubtedly true, with technological interest and then the general programme and notion of entertainment stimulating the audiences’ motivation. However, clearly before 1920 the individual film was more than capable of being the prime reason for attending a film presentation. People went to the Theatre Royal not to spend time in the auditorium, but to see Birth of a Nation; and consequently some films, and there are enough of them to make ignoring them an impossibility, were of great significance. Indeed, the impact of Battle on the Somme’spopularity seems to have been that other war films experienced a temporary resurgence in Exeter, the individual film apparently influencing the programme. Leading up to Christmas both the Theatre Royal and the Palladium ran a selection of war feature films including a number of official War Office releases. Films dealing with things other than the war, however, were still significantly more frequent throughout this time. With Christmas approaching, the Palladium yet again applied for a Christmas Day license. Evidently their standing in official circles had only strengthened throughout the year – perhaps with the help of having put on the government’s film – since they not only acquired the right, but they were also allowed to run a continuous performance from six until a quarter to eleven. In previous years they had only been entitled to operate a single, “sacred” programme.

For the other venues in the city, 1916 had been relatively quiet. The City Palace and The Empire received very little in the way of attention from the Flying Post (due as much to their lack of advertisements in the paper as their lack of ‘big’ films) with the biggest article on either of these two occurring when there was a film fire at the Empire in August.(177) Fortunately for the cinema’s business prospects, the piece was well written and clearly explained that thanks to the safety features in the projection room no flames or smoke reached the auditorium. The Franklin Picture Palace meanwhile was not mentioned at all in the Flying Post, again, presumably, in part because it did not advertise with the paper. Something that did affect all of the cinemas, however, was the introduction of the entertainment tax in April. This was put in place to ensure continued funds for the War and affected not only cinemas, but theatres, football and horse racing too and, for the most part, the tax burden was passed on to the consumer. Whilst in other parts of the country this caused considerable concern, with some proprietors believing that the increase in prices would put people off attending, in Exeter there seems to have been no such worries and business was profitably maintained. Of the other venues, the Hippodrome was frequently advertised and reviewed, but had turned its attention away from films and back to traditional variety, its only concession to moving pictures being a regular slot for “Special War Pictures on the Bioscope”. These appear to have been news films and were always shown just after the interval, presumably so that anyone late back to their seats would not miss a ‘real’ act. Perhaps here the chaser phenomenon had established itself again in a slightly new role. Likewise, the other halls provided various entertainments but with few or no films on the programme. Evidently these halls had discovered that they could not compete against the purpose-built cinemas in regards to film presentations and had, for the most part, reverted to entertainments they knew well.

In early 1917 both the Palladium and the Theatre Royal were again able to advertise important, propaganda style, films. The first of these, The Battle of Ancre and the Advance of the Tanks,was offered simultaneously by both venues. This must have come as something of a shock to the Theatre management who must have been used to benefiting from little competition when they offered such important films. The film was deemed important enough for the Theatre to produce a programme that was glossier than their usual productions and included in it Lord Derby’s message regarding the exhibition of war films.(178) This message would have been fully approved of by the film venues since it encouraged them to screen these government films and deflected the kind of criticism that Somme hadreceived. Despite the increased competition of two venues offering the same fare, all of the screenings appear to have been successful. This is not to say that a well advertised, patriotic film would always do well. In March the Theatre Royal announced that it would be soon showing “IT IS FOR ENGLAND”, a special film given that it would be the “biggest ever screened at the Theatre.”(179)

Unfortunately for the Theatre, however, the Flying Post was not appreciative and made this clear in its review:

In so far as the actual scenes at sea are concerned, the film represents the curate’s egg in being “excellent in parts”, but the endeavour to surround such incidents with a romance and a supernatural appearance of St. George detract from the effect, the scheme in these directions being carried out in an amateurish and unconvincing manner.(180)

Quite how much difference a review like this would make to the takings is uncertain, but it is apparent that even with the patriotic fervour present in the country at the time the audience still demanded an entertainment worthy of their money. With the Theatre Royal no longer offering a film season but rather occasional long runs of individual films of great merit, it was important that the films they chose would arouse the publics imagination. Too many films like It is for England could potentially lead to the patrons sticking to the specialist cinemas where the programme format virtually guaranteed them something they would enjoy. Certainly, however, the Theatre Royal made no mistake with its next film choice, advertising Civilization in August 1917 as “the most astounding, appalling picture of modem warfare that has been or can be conceived”.(181) This time the press agreed, the Express and Echo concluding a large review with “‘Civilisation’ [sic] is a very unique film, and you really ought to see it.”(182)

The Palladium and Theatre Royal were not the only venues to obtain official war films. The City Palace (which was regularly using the Express and Echo for promotion) advertised “French official War Office Films” and “EVERYBODY’S BUSINESS (by Government Authority)”(183) with the latter, which was also being screened at the Empire, coming in for particular mention. Evidently, government officials had realised that basic information films needed to be ‘spiced up’ if cinemas were going to take them and audiences watch them:

A cinematograph film, in support of the Food Economy Campaign entitled “Everybody’s Business” has been produced by the Western Imports Film Company.... The story in itself is interesting, and thrilling scenes of the sinking of ships and the destruction of submarines are introduced...(184)

Despite the general success of all the film venues, the Palladium seemingly remained both the press and the audience’s favourite. The brief reviews frequently congratulated the manager, Mr. Bramley, on his excellent programmes whilst mentioning that the place was packed. Although both the Empire and the City Palace also came in for merit, they rarely received as many accolades as their competitor, with one edition of the Express and Echo noting that whilst the City Palace was a “very popular resort”, the “management of the Exeter Palladium have got [the] bill again”.(185) When, in November, the Empire managed to get hold of a Charlie Chaplin film, the Palladium screened the same film in the same week. The result was considerable success for the Palladium with the reporter noticing that the Palladium was “packed to its utmost capacity, the chief attraction being ‘Charlie’”.(186) Even the fact that both the City Palace and the Empire closed for a week every summer for renovations whilst the Palladium remained open could not detract from the larger venue’s success. This is not to say that the small cinemas were struggling to survive since they frequently filled their capacities as well. However, their capacities were less than half that of the Palladium and, accordingly, their large audiences were never going to be as noteworthy as those at the Palladium. Also, if the Palladium still held a better standing with the middle-class authorities in the city (which it presumably did since, yet again, it was set to be the only cinema allowed to open on Christmas Day) then the editors of the newspaper were likely to look more favourably on it than on the other venues.

Whilst the success of the cinemas in Exeter was significant, it is apparent that there were still those who considered the cinema a dangerous place. The danger did not come from the physical worries of fire since the fire at the Empire the previous year and one in the King’s Hall in November 1917 (which, although not film-related, was put out thanks to the equipment provided under cinematograph law), had surely convinced people that they were safe in regard to that matter. Equally, although the spread of disease was a worry, the fact that children were potentially protected through the Council’s decision to monitor the situation and ban them should the need arise must have eased people’s minds.(187) Instead, the danger was a moral one and led, even though the BBFC had been in operation for several years, to the Cinema Commission of Enquiry, a body designed to look into the moral effects that the cinema could have. Their conclusion pleased the Express and Echo who published an account of the findings, taking time to comment on how this should counter the popular opinions of some authority figures in Devon:

It may soothe some of our local J.P.s – who are in the habit of “blaming it” on the pictures – to hear that the Commissioners find statements as to indecent behaviour in darkened buildings has been greatly exaggerated, and that the connection between the cinema and imitative juvenile crime is limited and is not a necessary connection.(188)

Evidently not all the J.P.s listened to what the Express and Echo had to say since at a case at the Exeter Children’s Court in January the following year the magistrate claimed to have seen a film “which was a disgrace to our latter day civilisation”. Apparently the film “sympathised with and encouraged a criminal”, the implication obviously being that it encouraged the young into a life of crime. Fortunately, the Chief Constable was at the hearing and, instead of simply agreeing with the Magistrate’s claims, immediately enquired as to the film and the venue it was seen at so that the matter could be looked into. The reply that was given “was to the effect that the film in question had not been seen in Exeter”.(189)

Although the Express and Echo was quick to defend the cinema against unnecessary criticism, it still plainly believed that the films that were offered had a duty to guide the audience, as well as providing entertainment:

If more cinema films were on the lines of “The Crimson Dove”, [on show at the Empire] ... the “picture trade” would be a much finer factor in the lives of the people than it usually is. Here is drama enough, thrill enough, and fighting enough (of the good, honest fisticuff sort) to satisfy the most ardent lover of sensation, yet the tone is notably healthy throughout, and the denouement uplifting.(190)

Whether the audience felt the need to be uplifted the paper does not say, although the fact that it was clearly an entertainment style film, albeit with an obviously moral ending, presumably meant that they were well enough satisfied. However, if the cinemas really wanted to attract the crowds, then one guaranteed way was to put on a film with a well-known star. In Exeter, the two most popular stars, if the audience figures and newspaper advertisements are anything to go by, were Mary Pickford and, of course, Charlie Chaplin. In May 1918, Exeter was treated to films containing both these favourites with the Empire and the Palladium running simultaneous programmes with Pickford and Chaplin respectively. Both venues achieved considerable success – a crush seemingly occurring at the Palladium – and the reviews indicated that they each attracted a different type of crowd. Apparently Chaplin was greeted with “boisterous enthusiasm” whilst “Charming Mary Pickford” caused “great delight”.(191) Such was the interest in both these actors, however, that in all likelihood many of the audience would make an effort to see both programmes during the week. Whilst the cinemas continued to offer these popular programmes, the Theatre Royal still preferred its occasional, high-publicity film. In the summer of 1918 this meant that it screened Griffith’s Intolerance and gave a rerun of Birth of a Nation. Both were well advertised and both found favour with the press and public, although the Express and Echo did note that the latter was not as good as the more recent production.

In June the City Palace began heavily advertising its run of Where are my Children?,a propaganda film with a strong anti-abortion message. Although the BBFC did not grant it a certificate it was still shown in a small number of venues around the country. Given the controversy surrounding the film it is not surprising that the City Palace clearly stated that it was a film for adults only. Seemingly in response to this the Empire started a new advertising campaign that brought the public’s attention to the fact that it provided the “ideal family entertainment” and was “the house of taste and refinement”. This ploy was presumably brought in to attempt to attract those regular City Palace customers who did not approve of its latest choice. Unfortunately for the Empire, Where are my Children? was well received in Exeter and the Express and Echo noted that it contained “the most artistic effects cinema art has attained”.(192) Although this was an obvious success for the City Palace it would not have particularly affected the other theatres and they continued to offer the same type of films through to the end of the war. The Franklin did, however, make one huge change, slashing its prices down to just 3d, 5d and 8d including tax. This suggests that it was struggling to fill its capacity, a problem that the Empire, Palladium and City Palace did not have. Presumably this ploy worked since the Franklin did not close permanently until well after the War.

When the war ended in November, entertainment venues in the city went into a frenzy. Victory dances, celebratory military music and special patriotic evenings were laid on in all the major halls. The picture palaces, however, did not get involved with this. Instead, the four of them joined together in an unusual show of solidarity and issued an advert to the Express and Echo:

Although constrained by the films that they could get hold of, it does seem strange that not one of the cinemas attempted to put on a special celebratory programme. Instead, as the rest of the city celebrated, the cinemas’ main priority – and perhaps the reason they maintained profitability whilst many of the general purpose halls rapidly went into decline after the War – was the continuation of business as usual.

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