At the pictures

A nice lady called Desley left a comment on my pages and reminded me that the movies used to be called “the pictures”. I certainly remember that era so I’m going to write some of my experiences of those exciting times from my youth.

The words to the song go something like this, “Saturday night at the movies, who cares what picture we see… kissing and a-cuddling in the back row of the balcony!” Boy, the memories come flooding back now. Saturday nights at Kallangur pictures, the best times of my life at that stage and forever ingrained in my memory.

There were two methods of attack in those days regarding girls. Before the pictures started, everyone used to congregate outside the theatre. The less experienced lads would use the ‘pic-n-pay’ method and choose their fancy early and pay for her ticket on the way in. But the more experienced predators would wait until the girls had bought their own tickets then pounce once inside the theatre. Of course this had an element of risk because the young lady of your choice may have been taken early. You would have to weigh up the cost of an extra ticket as against settling for a second or third choice cuddling partner.

The lads who were tight careful with their money had a second chance to acquire a “squeeze” once inside before the pictures began while the lights were still on. Mind you, if the young lady wasn’t exactly a beauty queen, much of the sorting and seat shuffling was done after the lights had dimmed. And that worked for the ladies too, they wouldn’t settle for second best either. On the other side of the fence, the blokes with steady girlfriends lost out both ways because they wouldn’t experience the thrill of the chase and were also out of pocket to boot.

Once the pictures started, so did the off-screen action. If you sat towards the back of the theatre and weren’t pre-occupied, you’d notice someone’s arm silhouetted against the screen as it looped through the air and around the shoulders of his girl. If all went well the kissing and cuddling would begin. If not, a slap would echo through the theatre. For heaven’s sake let her finish her bag of crisps first.

I’ll never forget the night Max Cooper rode his motorbike into the theatre. It was a very hot summer’s night and all the doors were left open to catch the breeze. Max took the muffler off his big Indian and roared in the back door and down the middle of the theatre revving it for all it was worth, then spun around and shot out the side entrance like some mad, screaming banshee. The theatre owner rushed in but you could barely see his torch beam through the black acrid exhaust fumes.

Arriving after the pictures had started was fraught with danger. Kallangur pictures had canvas seats wide enough to accomodate two people. Over the years the canvas had stretched which left a depression in the seats. A favourite trick was to tip a can of coke into a spare seat. Anyone entering the theatre after the lights had dimmed and chose the wrong seat would find themselves sitting in three inches of coke.

Another caper was to sneak down the front of the theatre where no one sat and put a lighted cigarette across the wick of a threepenny bunger. If you timed it right you would be back in your own seat innocently watching the film again by the time it went off. Those were the days…