A MAJESTIC LANDMARK
Famous Taihape theatre turns 100
Coming to the ‘‘pictures’’ is a real treat and quite the occasion. Rather than being told to turn off your mobile phones, it is asked that ladies remove their large brimmed hats and that whistling is refrained from.
The Majestic Theatre is being fussed over. The grand old lady has turned 100 and she deserves a bit of a shindig.
It’s been an up-and-down sort of a life for the little cinema. There have been the years of hustle and bustle, the boom years where the Majestic Theatre was the place to be, and then the tough times when the doors shut, the dust settled and the MGM lion had to hold its roar.
The story of the Majestic Theatre is a good one and the centenary celebrations held at the weekend marked the life of a great old Kiwi battler. And it’s the story of Taihape too, a town that cared enough to fight and which showed the rest of New Zealand what is possible in a small, but tight community.
The story needs to back up a reel or two to really show how the Majestic’s life began, so let’s go back to the beginning. Let’s go back to black and white.
The year is 1912 and Taihape is booming. In the Main-trunk-line town, community life is vibrant and it is by rail that movie reels are dropped off to two enterprising young local men, the Nicholl brothers, Vern and Cyril.
They ran the town’s grocery store and, with the popularity of silent films growing, they took it upon themselves to show movies from their premises – films like Cleopatra, Saved from the Titanic and The New York Hat. The need for a dedicated theatre was clear.
The Station Street Theatre was built on Tui St on the site of the original grocery store, just down from the railway station that would time its schedule around movie showings.
The theatre was custom built for silent films, with a piano for a specialised musician to play the film scores. It became local lore that Mrs Webb, who played the piano for the silent movies, could read a book at the same time.
Coming to the ‘‘pictures’’ is a real treat and quite the occasion. Rather than being told to turn off your mobile phones, it is asked that ladies remove their large brimmed hats and that whistling is refrained from.
Then, one day in 1916, at 2.24am, a fire broke out at the theatre. It was totally destroyed, with a witness saying it was ‘‘a grand spectacle. The fire was getting fiercer and fiercer. The flames shot up to a tremendous height’’.
The theatre was quickly rebuilt and renamed The King’s Picture Theatre. Clarry Capill, a local teenager, is reputed to have carried all the bricks for the building from the railway station to the site using a sack bag that held four bricks at a time.
When the Nicholls’ lease expired in 1926, the theatre was taken over by Fuller Hayward Theatre Corporation and the grand old building finally became The Majestic Theatre, the name that has stuck over the years.
Harold Cardiff was a projectionist and when the ‘‘talkies’’ arrived in 1930, the goods train would pull a passenger carriage and wait until the movie finished to allow the patrons a ride home.
Icecreams coated in chocolate, hard from the freezer, were carried around on trays at half time by children in white jackets and caps. Jaffas were popular and rolled down the stairs, bouncing their way to the wooden floor below.
When floods hit the town, causing a slip on the railway line, getting the film spools in was of the upmost importance. Cardiff arranged for the films to be flown down from Hamilton by a pioneer aviator named Blackmore in the company of a pioneer parachutist, Scotty Fraser.
How wonderful a sight it must have been to see the plane touch down in a paddock in Utiku and then do another lap of glory to take Cardiff and his son Harry up for a spin. From the cockpit they dropped leaflets over the town, like treasure falling from the sky, advertising the film and joy rides at five shillings a piece.
Fay Methven has fond memories of the theatre. She would often wag school on a Wednesday afternoon to go to the matinee. She lived in Utiku, travelling to school in Taihape by bus. Wednesdays were the day her mother would give her sixpence for a pie – ‘‘but I used to go without so I could go to the pictures’’.
The back seats of the theatre were where young courting couples sat and smoking was prohibited. The projectionist always knew when people were ignoring the ban because a fug of smoke would be seen through the rays of the newly installed Kalec GK40 35 millimetres projectors. The projectors came from a British battleship and were suitably solid.
In the 1950s, the theatre was upgraded, and in the 60s, it came into the hands of Gary Cuff. In 1967, a big storm wreaked havoc in Taihape. Hailstones ‘‘as big as marbles pelted Taihape for 12 deafening minutes’’.
The hail settled about four or five inches deep in the main street and, as it melted, flooded buildings and businesses.
Two-hundred-and-fifty ‘‘terrified and nearly hysterical’’ college students were forced to evacuate the theatre when a torrent of water poured through the roof during, what could be, Taihape’s worst flood.
By the mid 1970s, many railway families had left the district and, with the advent of TV and then video, cinema audiences began to decline. The theatre closed in 1977, but after a public meeting attended by 400 people, a committee was formed to save the theatre. Its history as a good kiwi battler started here.
John Infield, Berwyn Davies and Eddie Cherry kept the film reels turning after they worked out a system for keeping the cinema running – not for financial gain, but for the benefit of the community.
Rapheal and Margaret Mickleson were noted volunteers and helped out at every movie showing, with Margaret staffing the ticket office and Rapheal looking after the front of house and supervision of children in the audience.
They worked at the theatre for at least 10 years, with Raphael always turned out impeccably in a collar and tie, as he said it set ‘‘a good example’’.
Audiences, however, dwindled, and despite the valiant efforts of a dedicated team, the doors of the theatre sadly closed. The once vibrant and vital space became a place to be walked past, rather than stepped into.
The Majestic Trust wound up in 1991 and the Taihape Borough Council took control of the building.
Taihape College gave the theatre its next lease of life in 1992. In the most amazing hands-on learning experience, a group from the fifth and sixth form business studies classes took on the management of the theatre after it had been closed for a year.
As part of the New Zealand Fletcher Challenge Young Enterprise Scheme, the students were mentored by Mahendra Naidoo and Val Merwood, and the group called itself Majestic Enterprises.
The teenagers sold shares in the company and all of the shareholders got a return on their investment of $180 at the end of the year. They worked hard, showing films twice every two weeks and paying themselves 25 cents an hour.
The group’s efforts weren’t just noticed in Taihape, but by the
Aoraki Award for Innovation as well. It was a nationwide award and they came second, winning $6000 and a whole heap of pride.
Angela Wilson flew to Auckland for the presentation, where she met the prime minister at the time, Jim Bolger, not to mention having a glass of wine on the plane.
They made the front page of The
Dominion and were featured in the popular TV programme, Made in
New Zealand. They were the stars of an episode that screened in primetime on TV One.
Sadly though, once the momentum the students started ran out, the doors once again shut and they stayed that way for a good few years.
An empty building not only gathers dust, but condemnation as well, and in 1997, the Majestic hit an all-time low. The theatre that was once the go-to place now had a hefty demolition order slapped on it. Car park space was needed and a theatre, it seemed, no longer was.
The Taihape Community Board, supported by the Rangitikei District Council, had put the building out to tender, which was picked up by a Wanganui-based demolition company.
John Infield, a man who gave up much of his time to running the theatre, had the sad task of dismantling the projection equipment, and the Lions Club removed the seats, heaters and lights in preparation for the demolition.
The sledge hammer hung in the balance and the town was divided. Many agreed it was time for the disused building to go. Some had a turn-your-back attitude and others were appalled.
One person not prepared to let it happen stepped out. And that one person would, from 1997, become a truly significant ally to the Majestic. Pam Collier was going to put up a fight and pretty soon had a little army at her side.
Pam and her husband Malcom had been away from Taihape for 18 months and on her return, Pam couldn’t believe that such a thing could happen. Her disbelief spurred her and Malcom into action and before long they had drummed up support in the form of a petition, with 600 signatures.
The Majestic Rescue Group was formed, hurried meetings were held and plans were made. If ‘‘one way didn’t work’’, Pam would ‘‘find another way’’.
A council committee meeting was held in Marton, with a delegation from the Majestic Rescue Group and Taihape College in tow. It became heated as questions were raised over whether the delegation should be allowed to express their concerns. No official minutes were taken of that notable meeting and the conclusion was one of a stoical digging in of toes from the council.
The decision had been made as far as the council was concerned and it believed it was too late to save the theatre. But the council did suggest one course of action: Raise enough funds to buy the Majestic from the demolition company.
About $6000 was needed to pay out the demolition contractor and it was needed fast. Pam Collier and her supporters were resolute and a night of protest was planned.
A memorable and amazing spectacle on March 31 saw between 70 and 80 supporters hold vigil in front of the theatre.
TV3 showed up and Jaffa boxes were at hand to rattle, drawing attention to the fact a heavy chain and padlock secured the doors of the theatre shut.
Two days later an application to the Historic Places Trust was lodged and the rescue group kept the dialogue with the council and other parties open. Pam Collier soon gained a reputation for being a person who drew out the best in people with her genuine nature.
Malcom Collier says they learnt a whole raft of skills during that time.
‘‘There were all sorts of things that, as a farmer, I had never really bargained on needing to know. We did it on the seat of our pants, but we never really had any doubt. We didn’t question what we were doing. We just both passionately believed in it.’’
Bill Byford also put his good and trusted nature to work. The local construction-business owner and staunch supporter of the Majestic took to the streets and talked to the Taihape business sector.
He was instrumental in getting people to help and dig deep into their own pockets, and in no time Bill had the much-needed cash in hand to put a stop to the demolition.
They had acted fast – they had to to hold off the theatre’s demise. They now had a five-month reprieve and Jan Byford says there was an amazing moment when they realised they had done it, but then it was quickly followed by the realisation that: ‘‘We now have a theatre, what on earth do we do next?’’
Malcom Collier says this was the point where the hard work and the huge learning curve really kicked in.
They needed to get a conservation plan in place and were lucky to find a small band of interested professionals who agreed to donate their time and resources to support the rescue group’s endeavour to save the theatre.
Tony Kellaway, a Heritage consultant from Wellington, was one such professional. He became an important ally for the rescue group and said: ‘‘The aim is, in 20 years time we can all look back and say, ‘thank God we kept the theatre’.’’
The demolition order was dodged and the group not only secured a window of opportunity, but also made a statement about what a decent dose of passion can achieve.
In August 1998, the Majestic Theatre hit another milestone. It became officially protected with a category two listing from the Historic Places Trust. The Majestic Theatre could not and would not be demolished.
But inside, the theatre was in a sorry state, says Jan Byford.
‘‘It was a mess. It was just a shell really and we knew we had our work cut out for us.’’
The time for celebration passed quickly and the time for a different kind of hard work began. It was a long haul – the theatre was an empty vessel needing to be filled, hollowed out by the years of closure and the pre-wrecking-ball clean-out. There were no seats, no screen, no projector – there was just a lot of nothing.
The possibilities were exciting, but at the same time daunting. Jan Byford says they wanted to get it right.
‘‘We knew we had a responsibility to do things the right way. We didn’t want to just rush into things. It needed to be thought out and done properly.’’
Money was needed to get it right. Fundraising in a small town always means asking the same people more than once for money and Jan Byford says locals and businesses were generous with their time and resources. Tradesmen offered their skills, discounts on building supplies were given and if people could help, they did.
Things were starting to happen. The outside of the building no longer spoke of doom and gloom. It shouted out its new status as being very much awake. Trust chairman Tony Kellaway said the repainting of the exterior gave the building ‘‘a presence not seen for 50 years’’.
They forged on with fundraising and the theatre continued to be a huge part of Pam Collier’s life, ticking off the little and the big things alongside her team. Work on the theatre was ongoing and, at times, relentless.
A celebration for the theatre’s 90th birthday gave people a chance to have a nosey at the refurbishment efforts and a plaque from the New Zealand Historic Places Trust was also unveiled.
It was the first time the theatre had been open to the public since 1993 and the 1953 movie Genevieve was screened.
In 2008, the Majestic Trust disbanded and became the Majestic Committee. It was the driving force behind fundraising that has seen the cinema move into the digital age. Gail Larson says the committee is only little, but big on commitment.
Two years on and the long years of getting the Majestic back to her former self came to fruition. The worry, the sleepless nights and the sometimes frustratingly slow walk up a very large hill – it all became worth in when the doors of the Majestic Theatre swung open for business again.
A technical advisor, Ian Freer, got on board and a manager, Lianne Adams, was employed, and the theatre started to really make a comeback. All other staff were volunteers and the Majestic was still reliant on the goodwill of the community and its support.
The Majestic became an active member of the Taihape community again. It had its lean times – the Majestic had to start competing with a new and vast landscape of entertainment choices, but the doors of the historical building stayed open.
Pam Collier, who had put so much of herself into the theatre and the town, sadly died in 2013. She was the person who had the right amount of heart to keep the Majestic standing and in turn the theatre gave her something back. The wake was held there, with a picture show of Pam’s life and a jazz band playing. Hundreds turned up and Majestic gave her a grand send off.
Malcom Collier says it was ‘‘just amazing’’.
‘‘She was a special sort of a person. She built relationships wherever she went and they were genuine. She treated everyone the same way.’’
Bill Byford, too, died in January, after a long battle with motor neurone disease. He was a stalwart to the theatre, a strong presence with a wide grin and a good attitude. Malcom Collier says both will always be remembered for the crucial part they played in the ongoing life of the Majestic.
At the end of the year, Simone Simpson took over from Adams as manager and her first major mission was bringing the theatre into the fast moving modern age.
Going digital was something Simpson says was ‘‘absolutely necessary’’. It was the only way the Majestic could keep going. The old system was becoming obsolete and the fast-changing technology was the theatre’s new nemesis.
About $80,000 was needed to upgrade to a digitised projection system and it took two years to raise the money through grants and ‘‘a massive effort from the community’’, says Simpson.
For the showing off of its new high-tech system, the Majestic screened a double header, with the comedy Office Christmas Party followed by Rogue One: A Star Wars Story.
Now, the Majestic is showing all the latest offerings. The old girl is competing with the big boys and there’s a new generation of movie goers keeping the Majestic alive and kicking.
The black and white days are gone and sepias have made way for technicolour bright.
In 2017, the new generation may not know the history, the fight and the importance that those old bricks hold.
It may not be old reels flickering through a monster of an ancient projector, but it’s movie magic that keeps the Majestic alive.
The grand old girl is 100, but she’s still here. She’s still vital and, most importantly, she is still loved.
A history of The Majestic Theatre can be bought at the theatre.
Many agreed it was time for the disused building to go. Some had a turn-your-back attitude and others were appalled.