The Sole Custodian
A Tale of Two Cinemas and Two Celebrations
Two dates, topping and tailing this week, have inspired this latest instalment of The Hypolloi. Sunday, the 18th June is Father’s Day in the UK. I am not sure what my children have in store for me. It will no doubt involve some hilariously bizarre, handmade cards. Meanwhile, rewinding to the start of the week; Monday the 12th June was Superman Day. This date was chosen to celebrate the Man of Steel because Action Comics #1, which featured his first appearance, in 1938, was cover dated June.
This week, I have been thinking about my father and about Superman.
Earlier this year, we finally managed to hold a long-postponed wake for my dad. He died during the first lockdown - not from Covid, but from complications after a fall – and this had been the first time since then that the family were able to gather in one place. While we were all sharing happy anecdotes about Dad, I recounted this childhood memory.
Towards the end of 1978, I was eight years old. Our family had recently moved to Lound, a tiny village on the Norfolk/Suffolk border, with a population of less than four hundred people; a stark contrast to the bustling metropolis of Sleaford (shout out to the Mods!), in Lincolnshire, where we had been living previously. (A couple of years before that, we had been in Bishop’s Stortford, and a couple of years before that, Walthamstow, where I had been born. We moved around a lot, when I was small. My parents have never been able to explain what that was about. But I digress.)
I was playing in the front room, with my younger brother. I remember my dad being there, reading the newspaper. After a while, he put down the paper, got up, went to the kitchen and spoke to my mum. He then came back into the room and said, “Do you two want to come and see The Water Babies?”
The Water Babies is a little-remembered, children’s film, adapted from a largely-unread, nineteenth century children’s book. The film had the distinction of blending animated characters with live action settings, a commonplace feature today. But for the time, this was novel and ground-breaking, if not a little clunky.
I could not remember any of us expressing any great wish to go and see The Water Babies, or even being aware that it was on at the cinema at all, at the time. But we loved going to the cinema, whatever was playing. So off went the three of us, to Lowestoft, a five-mile drive away, to visit the Odeon Cinema.
The Odeon Cinema was a beautiful, Art Deco building, right in the centre of the town. We had been to see Watership Down there, a month or two previously. Stepping inside the awe-inspiring foyer, Dad went to the counter to get the tickets. We waited with anticipation. After a moment or two, Dad returned with a disappointed expression on his face. “Sorry, boys,” he said. “They’ve no tickets left for The Water Babies.” This was very surprising to me. Was The Water Babies really that popular? My brother and I were not really bothered about missing the film. What would we do instead?
“There’s that other cinema,” said Dad. “Just round the corner. We could go and see what’s on there, if you like?”
The other cinema. I had heard of that. At that time, we had never been to the Marina Cinema, but its reputation as being something of a flea-pit preceded it. We agreed to see what was on at the Marina and followed Dad, up a dark side-street, towards the dilapidated picture house.
And there it was.
In the entrance to the dank, grubby foyer of the dingy cinema; a silhouette of brilliant colour shone out. Electric blue, sunshine yellow and brilliant scarlet, the figure stood, hands on hips, smiling paternally.
It was Superman.
A cardboard standee of Christopher Reeve, taller than me welcomed us. I gasped. My brother and I looked at each other, our eyes like saucers. My heart started racing. We looked at Dad, expectantly. “Hmmm,” said Dad, pretending not to notice our tiny minds blowing to pieces in front of him. “Do you want to see this instead?”
And that is how our dad took us to see Superman: The Movie
If I am completely honest, even at eight years old, the bit when Superman spun the world backwards to stop Lois from dying felt like a bit of a cheat. But that aside, the film was a magical, transcendental experience. The music, the images, the ideas - we believed a man could fly! But, my most lasting memory of the whole experience was my dad’s sleight-of-hand.
It was not until I was much older that I realised that Dad had played a trick on us at all - The Water Babies was sold out!? - and a few years ago, when I reminded him of that day, my father could not even recall playing the trick. I am one of five children. There is a whole lot of things to remember, I suppose. My brother was only six at the time and he has no recollection of this moment either. I am the only one. The sole custodian of the memory. I treasure it.
A year later, in 1979, The Odeon Cinema in Lowestoft was demolished. It had first opened in January, 1937, two months before my father was born and year before the publication of Action Comics #1. A branch of WH Smiths was built on the site.
Five years after that, in 1984, the Marina Cinema was threatened with demolition, but was reprieved, refurbished and reopened, in 1988, as the Marina Theatre. It continues to show films, as well as plays, stand-up comedy and live music performances, to this very day.
A belated Happy Superman Day to those that observe.
And Happy Father’s Day too.
A trip into your past. I enjoyed reading it.