It’s the end of the road for the campaign to save the former Whiteladies Road cinema from redevelopment, as the city’s planning committee gives the go-ahead to turn it into a health club. Gerry Brooke looks back at its history
JANUARY 21 was a sad day for Bristol’s cinema lovers. Despite strong protests from campaigners, and a 5,000-strong petition, the city’s planning committee finally decided – by six to four – to give the nod of approval to plans by London-based developer Medinbrand to change that much-loved landmark, the Grade Twolisted, Whiteladies Road cinema, into a health club.
The permission means that the outside will not be touched but internally the seats, projection rooms, suspended ceiling, timber cladding and foyer partitions will go. But, as part of the deal, the decorative plasterwork will stay and the former ballroom and auditorium will be restored.
Although the cinema – then the oldest left in the city – finally closed its doors to the public in December 2001 it’s a crying shame that Bristol has now lost another community cinema and, with it, a part of a living heritage stretching back almost three generations.
It’s a far cry from the heady days in November 1921, when the cinema was proudly opened by the Duchess of Beaufort, who was joined for the occasion by the archdeacon of Bristol and a senior Free Church minister. Cinemas were still viewed with suspicion by some ministers and the management wanted the blessing of at least two influential churches before embarking on their newest venture.
It was a very grand building in a prime location. The imposing entrance hall featured 10 columns of Italian marble, a marble dado and a floor composed of marble crazy paving, or mosaic. The Western Daily Press reported: “Here one need not dream of dwelling in marble halls but can enjoy the reality.” As well as comfortable seating for 1,300 there was a big crush hall where wellheeled patrons could wait in comfort. An elegant restaurant and dance hall built next to the cinema now house the Dog and Duck pub.
The cinema also featured a marble staircase with mahogany panelling and a balustrade which led up to a balcony with leaded lights. There was an upstairs hall with a sprung floor. At one end of the building a prominent white-stone tower arose, with the name of the cinema set in concrete at the top. The Bristol Times & Mir ror newspaper insisted on calling it a “Kinema” as they said that it was a building devoted to kinematography. It certainly sounded posh – better than “Picture House” anyway – and suited its Clifton location.
The chairman of the venture was Mr Albert Moon, who became Lord Mayor in 1936, and who had interests in two other cinemas, the Bristol Gem and the Kingswood Regent.
Considering its pedigree the cinema was strangely unadventurous and was the last major city picture house to be adapted for the talkies. It resisted the trend and even billed itself as “The Home of the Silent Screen”.
In its early days the Whiteladies cinema was locked in bitter rivalry with another Clifton picture house – the Triangle cinema on Queen’s Road. Emmanuel Harris, (grandfather of Anita Harris
, popsinger of 1970s) the Triangle owner, scooped his upthe-road rival by getting first release rights from all the major film distributors.
The two businesses finally merged but were then sold in a £250,000 package to Associated British Cinemas.
ABC, as they were known, also took over the King’s, the Cabot, the Empire and Park cinemas. Mr Harris took his money and set up a rival chain, comprising Zetland Road’s Scala, Cheltenham Road’s Plaza and Shirehampton’s Savoy. At one time the city had an unbelievable 40 picture houses. The Triangle was lost in the Blitz.
The ever popular Whiteladies cinema survived the decline in cinema-going that set in after the war and, in 1955, hosted the regional premier of the musical Oklahoma, and, in 1958, Gigi. It also became the first Bristol cinema to have a bar.
In 1978, following a popular trend, the large screen was done away with and the building split into three mini cinemas.
There is now a signed clause in place between the development company and the Odeon, which owned the building, stating that the building should never be used as a cinema in the future. This now seems superfluous, as once the internal changes are made it’s highly unlikely that it will ever be adapted to cater to a cinema audience again.
It’s all a great pity after so many people have put up such a long and spirited fight to save it for future generations.
WHITELADIES CINEMA: THE FINAL CURTAIN
(From the Bristol Evening 27 January 2004)
It’s the end of the road for the campaign to save the former Whiteladies Road cinema from redevelopment, as the city’s planning committee gives the go-ahead to turn it into a health club. Gerry Brooke looks back at its history
JANUARY 21 was a sad day for Bristol’s cinema lovers. Despite strong protests from campaigners, and a 5,000-strong petition, the city’s planning committee finally decided – by six to four – to give the nod of approval to plans by London-based developer Medinbrand to change that much-loved landmark, the Grade Twolisted, Whiteladies Road cinema, into a health club.
The permission means that the outside will not be touched but internally the seats, projection rooms, suspended ceiling, timber cladding and foyer partitions will go. But, as part of the deal, the decorative plasterwork will stay and the former ballroom and auditorium will be restored.
Although the cinema – then the oldest left in the city – finally closed its doors to the public in December 2001 it’s a crying shame that Bristol has now lost another community cinema and, with it, a part of a living heritage stretching back almost three generations.
It’s a far cry from the heady days in November 1921, when the cinema was proudly opened by the Duchess of Beaufort, who was joined for the occasion by the archdeacon of Bristol and a senior Free Church minister. Cinemas were still viewed with suspicion by some ministers and the management wanted the blessing of at least two influential churches before embarking on their newest venture.
It was a very grand building in a prime location. The imposing entrance hall featured 10 columns of Italian marble, a marble dado and a floor composed of marble crazy paving, or mosaic. The Western Daily Press reported: “Here one need not dream of dwelling in marble halls but can enjoy the reality.” As well as comfortable seating for 1,300 there was a big crush hall where wellheeled patrons could wait in comfort. An elegant restaurant and dance hall built next to the cinema now house the Dog and Duck pub.
The cinema also featured a marble staircase with mahogany panelling and a balustrade which led up to a balcony with leaded lights. There was an upstairs hall with a sprung floor. At one end of the building a prominent white-stone tower arose, with the name of the cinema set in concrete at the top. The Bristol Times & Mir ror newspaper insisted on calling it a “Kinema” as they said that it was a building devoted to kinematography. It certainly sounded posh – better than “Picture House” anyway – and suited its Clifton location.
The chairman of the venture was Mr Albert Moon, who became Lord Mayor in 1936, and who had interests in two other cinemas, the Bristol Gem and the Kingswood Regent.
Considering its pedigree the cinema was strangely unadventurous and was the last major city picture house to be adapted for the talkies. It resisted the trend and even billed itself as “The Home of the Silent Screen”.
In its early days the Whiteladies cinema was locked in bitter rivalry with another Clifton picture house – the Triangle cinema on Queen’s Road. Emmanuel Harris, (grandfather of Anita Harris
, popsinger of 1970s) the Triangle owner, scooped his upthe-road rival by getting first release rights from all the major film distributors.
The two businesses finally merged but were then sold in a £250,000 package to Associated British Cinemas.
ABC, as they were known, also took over the King’s, the Cabot, the Empire and Park cinemas. Mr Harris took his money and set up a rival chain, comprising Zetland Road’s Scala, Cheltenham Road’s Plaza and Shirehampton’s Savoy. At one time the city had an unbelievable 40 picture houses. The Triangle was lost in the Blitz.
The ever popular Whiteladies cinema survived the decline in cinema-going that set in after the war and, in 1955, hosted the regional premier of the musical Oklahoma, and, in 1958, Gigi. It also became the first Bristol cinema to have a bar.
In 1978, following a popular trend, the large screen was done away with and the building split into three mini cinemas.
There is now a signed clause in place between the development company and the Odeon, which owned the building, stating that the building should never be used as a cinema in the future. This now seems superfluous, as once the internal changes are made it’s highly unlikely that it will ever be adapted to cater to a cinema audience again.
It’s all a great pity after so many people have put up such a long and spirited fight to save it for future generations.