Places Features

Built in 1963, the ABC cinema in Broad Street, Hanley, became a regular attraction amongst many movie enthusiastic Potters, waiting to catch a glimpse of the latest release, mainly on a weekend.

For many, it provided the ideal night out, and for many more, it was a perfect day out to watch a matinee.

There had also been a 10-pin bowling alley next door when the cinema opened, which later became a night club and then later a casino, when the bowling craze declined. You could find all the entertainment you needed for the night, right there.

On the outside, the building wasn't really captivating or attractive, but, on the inside, it was a different story. The staff was always gracious in the way they made you feel welcome, as they offered the highest standard of service. The usherettes never complained about assisting their visitors to the correct picture room.

The service counter and ticket office were there as you walked in. You didn't have to take a second look for assistance. It was right there on hand. Even when it was cold, as well as the heating provided, the atmosphere used to warm you up, in this predominantly red coloured cinema house.

A child’s eye view

As a child, I remember walking up the black and white steps, which to me, resembled a giant chess board, which led to the cinema’s entrance. It was in the year of 1982 and myself, who was accompanied by my family, was going to see ‘ET’ on its release.

We wrapped ourselves in our coats and waited patiently for 5 long hours to see this Spielberg blockbuster. The queue was so long, it trailed back around the corner and finally whittled down to the car park at the back. Every so often we would move a few feet forward, but it was still another crowd’s turn before ours.

The kindly staff took it upon themselves to distribute a few treats amongst the waiting audiences and apologised for our wait. These words, we knew, were sincere; a personal touch, to which no cinema of today can compare. The service we received compensated for the queues.

Once inside, the confectionary on display in the foyer made my mouth water. You could also hear the theme tune playing to the credits rolling, as we stood on the stairs, waiting for our turn to go in.

The music played so loudly, I wondered what it was. As I was so young, I didn't make any connection between the film and this tune! Up the stairs was a last chance to buy popcorn and many more refreshments, before you watched your chosen film.

ET

When it was our turn to enter one of the cinema's three screens, we ran hastily to the back row and each held our red seats down with one hand and excitedly sat down before they flipped back up again. Now we were ready to watch ET, The Extra Terrestrial.

Half-way through the film, the curtains were drawn on the screen and the 'trolley dollies' carried tubs of ice-cream on trays, for the peckish guests, and bursting bladders were relieved on this, the only toilet break.

I distinctly remember the fire doors opening and people going outside for fresh air, (or a cigarette). I do not know for sure if they did, though. This part is just what I think I remember.

The ABC was the very first place I witnessed Elliot ride his bicycle in the air, by the light of the moon, with ET in his basket. It appeared all the more real to me because I watched it on this gigantic silver screen.

The score of the film added to the atmosphere in this dimly lit picture room. I felt really happy that my family had brought me to the ABC for this special day out.

We didn't leave our seats until the credits were nearly over. As we made our way out of the building, I spotted the cleverly positioned merchandise display area and I tugged on my mother's coat until she relented and bought me a blue ET badge from the promotional stall.

I wore this badge with pride for the rest of 1982, on my clothes to school, until uniforms were made compulsory. Sadly, I possess this badge no longer.

Decline

I took little notice of the cinema as a 9 year old. I kind of took it for granted. ET was the first film I saw at the ABC and, little did I know then, that it would also be the last.

Ironic as it sounds, a few months later, ‘The Last Film I Ever Saw’ was played on our orange Avenger's car radio, performed by Kissing The Pink, as we drove past the cinema. I pointed to the ABC excitedly and exclaimed to my dad how "We had seen a film, there!”

I didn't know at the time (and I didn't care) how it would become significant in my own history with the ABC. It now seems fitting.

In 1989, my friends and I decided to have a girls’ day out to watch a film. Our choice of film was Rain Man. We walked down Piccadilly Street, straight past the Odeon cinema and headed towards the ABC. Good, I thought. I was so excited to think we would be watching our film at my favourite cinema.

One of my friends went inside the foyer, then came back. She had been informed that unfortunately we wouldn't be able to watch the film there.

I can't remember if it was because it wouldn't be showing for a few hours or if the ABC cinema wasn't actually showing this particular film. What I do remember, is being very disappointed we wouldn't be spending the afternoon in my preferred place to watch a film.

We made our way to the Odeon and watched Rain Man, there, instead. In a way, I'm glad we did as the Odeon was also to close this same year.

Going, going…

In 2001, my daughters and I were strolling around Hanley. I was astonished to see that the ABC had been boarded up, where there had once been the welcoming glass doors. It was also the last cinema in Hanley town centre to have had its doors closed for the very last time.

There was also something different about the appearance of the cinema that I couldn't think what it was. My daughter informed me that the canopy, which had advertised the showings on, may be missing and this was the reason why. I knew then, that if the canopy was missing, it wouldn't be long before the rest of the building would be, too.

In my ignorance, I thought the world would see sense and the ABC cinema would re-open its doors and commence its business, in time, once more. And, even if the cinema was to be redeveloped into something else, at least the building would still exist, I pondered.

I thought it was another case of the 'big boys' pouring their money in the new builds and forcing the smaller fish out. I put it down to a phase.

In actual fact, these 'big boys' were the cinema owners themselves. In 2000, the owners Cinven (a venture capitalist company), bought the Odeon cinema chain, which resulted in the ABC cinema's either changing their name to Odeon or being shut down completely. The latter was to become the fate of the Hanley site.

Although financial pressures helped to make this decision, Cinven hardly considered the many people who found their Hanley house a convenient place to watch a reel.

…gone

Then, in 2007, I took my car for a service at the Clough Street Vauxhall garage in Hanley, which is situated on one of the roads behind where the cinema stood. On being informed it would be at least an hour before my car would be ready, I declined the offer of a courtesy car and decided to have a walk up to Hanley instead.

As I made my way up to the town centre, I glanced over to my right and I stopped in my tracks. To my absolute horror, I saw that the ABC cinema was in the process of being demolished and the entire back wall of the building had been torn off. The rest of the building remained intact. You could see right inside.

This image still haunts me. To my bewilderment, it appeared to me that all the seats were still in place, as if nobody had taken the time, or had not even cared to dismantle them properly. I'm still none the wiser to find out if they ever were removed before the hydraulic machinery took its final swing from the crane wrecking ball or the clout of the long boom arm.

You could almost 'see' the ghosts inside, sitting on the seats, watching a film and you could almost hear their cries as they begged for it not to be ripped down. In my mind, I was one of those ghosts.

I stood for a few moments in a trance at this performance I was witnessing. I had a nostalgic flash back to the time we had visited the ABC, and my cousin, Jason, and I were pretending to be Elliot and ET, as the now famous scene was shown. It seemed only yesterday.

The cinema had housed so many shows. Now it itself was on show. I was choked. A piece of my childhood would come tumbling down when the last brick fell. I felt old. It seems strange to think that the area, in which I occupied in my seat, is now 'thin air'.

On the way back to my car, I could barely look one minute at the damage being done and then the next minute I'd be straining my neck just to catch one more glimpse. Just one more...

I now memorised by head and by heart, the red interior of the building as it would, incidentally, be the last time I would see it standing. I wish I had taken a photograph, as now the only pictures I possess of the ABC are in my memory. 

Changes

By 2008, the ABC stood no more. This tragic little piece of history has now been bulldozed into a pile of rubble, which occupies a piece of land across the road from Hanley Museum.

I wait to see which buildings I have grown up with will remain in their glory of bricks and mortar, if I get to reach the age of 80 years, or beyond. Or will they too, become victims of the demolition process and will Stoke-on-Trent then become a lost City? Unless we can grade list more of our heritage, I remain open-minded about their future.

Likewise, the Tunstall and Stoke cinemas were also at the mercy of investors, as well as other demolished cinemas within our county.

The Odeon in Hanley too, was also closed, although its shell was spared for another use. A huge new complex cinema in the Festival Park was built to keep the Odeon’s faithful audiences, although a stroll in the town would perhaps have led to a customer sparing 90 minutes of their time to watch a film, rather than an out of town purpose visit.

By contrast to the multiplexes, The ABC had its own personal, local telephone number too, not the national rate lines you are expected to telephone when you need assistance.

Conservation

I do not blame Stoke-On-Trent City council, or other official bodies, for the disappearance of such a much loved social pleasure, as they did not own the building, but I still believe there could have been measures in place to stop it from toppling down so worthlessly, like a child's building blocks.

Councils do from time to time, seem to change the rules (as when they want to build a motorway through someone's private property). At least with the 'Cultural Quarter', our 'Representatives' can look good, sipping tea and telling the rest of the world just how hard they are working for our City.

In my opinion this cinema didn't stand a chance of survival after passing through so many hands from Warner to Cannon. Each time the chain passed hands, it took a step nearer to destruction until, finally, Cinven added the straw that broke the cinema’s back.

It's a shame that the man who built the ABC-related company, in 1927, should have had his enterprise destroyed some 73 years later. It seems profit from the public purse matters more than the public themselves. But we weren't conned out of our money, we were robbed of our cinema.

Last word

The front steps and the foyer floor, at this time (early 2009), remain. I'm sure that if anyone who had visited the cinema during its standing should walk on this ground, they will still feel the warm atmosphere from every person who made this place special.

If I had the chance, I would buy the land which rightfully belongs to our cinema and resurrect it to its former glory.

Along with a lot of people of Stoke-On-Trent, I am sad that this cinema remains no more. Almost 40 years of our cinematic history is now reduced to dust and I'm almost reduced to tears.

When they destroyed this piece of history, they destroyed a piece of my heart along with it. My memories will remain untouched. 

As the damage has now been done, I will remember with great fondness the ABC cinema and the wonderful afternoon out that was provided for me there.

(c) Written by Alison Ellis-Johnson 26/09/08

**Memories

Ken Buckley was so moved by Alison's piece that he gave us his own memory of another local cinema, the Danilo in Stoke...

Arthur Askey, Barbara Stanwyck, Fred McMurry, Robert Mitchum - and on and on... The proscenium would be bathed in multi-colour lights - red, blue, yellow, softened by a blue cloud of cigarette smoke rising from the floor and gallery. From behind the screen, a gentle, deep, bass, accompanying a piano "I'm Always Chasing Rainbows." A slide would credit the loan of the recording to a record store on Liverpool Road.
The Danilo premiered centre stage in Stoke in the 1930s, on aptly named Hill Street, a short, brisk climb from Copeland Place. It had to be the most modern of all area theatres, dedicated primarily to show films, and later, some staged events - like, Billy Cotton and his Band.

It was a true picture palace, even though it didn't boast an organ like the Regent in Hanley. The film presentations would usually float onto the screen, as the giant curtains were whisked aside, and the coloured lights would fade, replaced by the pomp of Gaumont British News thundering throughout the theatre. If an air raid took place, the Danilo projectionist would flash a slide on screen advising patrons that the picture would continue without sound.
Memories of "Blood and Sand," Double Indemnity," and so many more classics projected in a classic manner at Stoke's most luxurious theatre. No multiplex will ever replace the excitement, thrill, and sheer delight of going to the pictures. The Danilo was one of the very best. Unfortunately, like so many of the real picture palaces - now, a great memory.