Hire

Adapting to the changing times.

This obscure suburban cinema whose relatively long history not only treasures the trends in cinema technology and the suburban culture of cinema-going quintessential of the first half of the twentieth century, but more importantly, it documents the cinema’s role in shaping the society and vice versa. Indeed, it was not a one-way relationship. The cinema’s immediate social context was not a passive recipient but rather an active ever-changing force, mandating adjustments in the very modus operandi of this suburban cinema. After all, the cinema depended on these adjustments if it was to stay relevant and endure in its ever-changing wider context. This is perhaps relevant for the cinema industry today, as much as it was relevant a century ago. The point is now as it was back then, to keep up with the changing times, reinventing the notion of what a cinema is, or in this example, what it is for.

(This photograph is the best of, what appears to be, only three available photographic records of the Middle Park Picture Theatre from the period of its operation (for more information see this BONZA entry). Click on the image to see a magnified view of Armstrong St c1920s. Image source: State Library of Victoria).

Cinema, as its dictionary definition indicates, is essentially “a place designed for the exhibition of films”, but you already know this. So, why is it important that we agree on a working definition of the word? Well, have you ever been to a cinema to watch a live cooking demonstration? Participate in a Euchre (card game) contest? Political party meeting? How about a wedding in a cinema? Singing competition? Dancing and fancy dress party? What about a boxing or wrestling match? Can you imagine any of these things happening in your local multiplex today? Well, all the above named events and many others were regular happenings held at the Middle Park Picture Theatre during its 34 years in operation. Facing a great competition in the area, the cinema had to make itself relevant if it was to survive. For example, on occasions when the regular cinemagoers stayed home to play Euchre, the cinema would organise a Euchre contest to get them to play it in the cinema. The cinema was simply in tune with its environment and adjusted itself accordingly.

(The Argus, 4 April 1932, p. 6)

One prominent example of this two-way relationship between the cinema and its wider social context can be assembled from the above listed newspaper advertisement.This very brief newspaper advertisement informing the public about a political gathering to be held in the Middle Park Picture Theatre points to a few very interesting facts about the cinema. First, the person who was to speak at this meeting held at the cinema on 4 April 1932 was Mr James Henry Scullin, then the leader of the Federal Labor party, who just three months prior to this meeting had held the office of Prime Minister of Australia (1929-1932). The meeting initiated a very active local branch of the Labor Party who from that moment on held regular meetings at the cinema. According to an article published in The Age on 20 September of the same year (see the image immediately below), the sheer announcement of the Labor (then the opposition) protest meeting to be held at the cinema was enough for the government of the day to change its attitude in regards to the issue at stake. This just shows the effects these meetings held at the cinema had on the political life of the era.

(The Age, 20 September 1932, p. 7)

Another interesting aspect to notice is that this was happening amidst the Great Depression that hit Australia in the early thirties, following the Wall Street Crash of 1929. No doubt, Middle Park then a working class suburb was greatly effected. The increase in unemployment meant that not many people could afford the luxury of watching “flicks” at the local picture theatre. At the same time the membership of the local branch of the Labor Party was increasing in numbers and the meetings held at the Middle Park Picture Theatre were regular happenings often attendant by the prominent figures of the Labor movement of the day (‘Labor Unity’, The Age, 25 January 1934, p. 10). The earnings made through these hires of the hall for political gatherings and other community events compensated for the drop in numbers of regular cinemagoers, and that is how the cinema managed to survive the Great Depression and the great competition for so long.

(The Age, 25 January 1934, p. 10)

Indeed, unlike the modern notion of cinema, this small suburban picture theatre was not “a place designed for the exhibition of films”, or at least not solely for that purpose. These other uses of the cinema were the essential part of the business, therefore instrumental for the cinema’s very survival. For neither the cinema alone nor the other uses alone could provide a worthwhile financial sufficiency. Thus, their symbiosis was the only working formula. This historical perspective has a contemporary value, for many independent cinemas today face the same problems as this cinema faced almost a hundred years ago. However it is not necessary true that this formula is entirely relevant today, but in understanding the past we can better plan the future.