Scala!!!

[MichaelB]

Confirmed as a 22 January 2024 release.

Archive footage, eye-popping movie clips, acid-crazed animation and some famous names collide to tell the story of London’s infamous, influential Scala cinema. With its cracked marble floors, resident cats and mysterious, extrasensory rumblings, the Scala was magic and a refuge from the violence of Thatcher’s Britain.

Hilarious, irreverent, and ultimately heartbreaking with a fabulous original score by Barry Adamson, SCALA!!! is more than mere nostalgia, it’s an X-rated love letter and a universal shout-out to the power of cinemas to inspire impressionable young minds and create a sense of community for outsiders. A place where everyone is welcome.

Presented in High Definition
• Audio feature commentary by directors Jane Giles and Ali Catterall (2023)
• Best of the Rest (Jane Giles and Ali Catterall, 2023): essential outtakes from SCALA!!!
• Scala (Michael Clifford, 1990, 30 mins) an intimate portrait of the cinema in its later years, originally made for Cable London
• Scala (Ali Peck and Victor de Jesus, 1992, 3 mins): the Scala’s projectionist at work
• The Incredibly Strange Film Show Sampler (tbc mins): essential Psychotronic interviews with some Scala-favourite filmmakers
• Osbert Parker’s Animations (2023): animations from the film
• Davey Jones’ animations (2023): the Viz cartoonist creates a piece of artwork for the film
• Festival Introduction (2023, 13 mins) Jane Giles and Ali Catterall’s London film Festival introduction
• Scala Programmes (2023) Jane Giles selects favourite Scala programmes
• Cabinet of Curiosities (2023): images, ephemera and true stories from the cinema’s history
• Theatrical trailer
• Audio description for the blind and visually impaired
• **FIRST PRESSING ONLY** Illustrated booklet featuring a statement from the directors, new writing on the film and archive writing about the Scala

I can't wait to see this - I practically lived at the Scala from 1983 to 1993, and its impact on my cultural worldview has been pretty much incalculable. Without my teenage years being shaped by the Scala and 1980s-era Channel 4, I might well have turned out very differently. In fact, I nearly got a chance to see it last week, when Sight & Sound asked if I'd like to review it, but ethical concerns intervened - not only have I known co-director Jane Giles for more than 33 years, but I'm an actual investor in the film!

(And I didn't think twice about it - Jane's book on the history of the Scala is an absolute wonder, even if I have to keep it balanced on the top of a bookcase because it's too big to fit the shelves.)

[The Curious Sofa]

I went to the Scala at least once a week, from 1984 when I arrived in London, to when it closed. For a few years in the late 80s I lived in a shared house in York Way, which was a 15 minute walk away. The Scala introduced me to so many films, from art house classics, to cult films, to truly bizarre oddities (The Worm Eaters!). I loved everything about it, from the steep auditorium, to the cinema cat who came to visit, their sandwiches, to the trains which rumbled past underneath. As Kings Cross was still rough, you'd be watching a Pasolini tripple feature while there were prostitutes servicing their clients in the back row.

They threw great all nighters and parties and I was especially fond of the marathon horror previews on New Year's day. One of my proudest moments in life was that Jane Giles programmed my graduate film as a supporting short to Jane Campion's Sweetie and Ann Turner's Celia, even if I got my print back a little more scratched than it was before. I'm still friends with some of the former Scala staff, who like me, hung out at The Bell, the queer post-punk pub down the road. That place was central in queer support for the miners, which was the subject of the 2014 movie Pride (reconfigured to fit the British feel-good movie mold). When first the Scala and then the The Bell closed in the 90s London became less fun.

I've got the book and am looking forward to the documentary.

[brundlefly]

Speaking of, the standard edition of the book is half-off during FAB Press' "MEGA DISCOUNT NOVEMBER SUPER SALE."

[reaky]

Brilliant - ordered!

[MichaelB]

I remember one late-night party where they decided to run a reel of Predator on one projector and a reel of Russ Meyer's Up! on the other - i.e. projecting both images overlapping.

The result was, of course, utterly spellbinding.

The Scala also played host to the only time I've ever seen a film slow-handclapped partway through for being boring. Inexplicably, the promised director Q&A afterwards was mysteriously cancelled. (It was Richard Driscoll's The Comic, now out on Blu-ray, but it's not a film I've ever wanted to revisit.)

[MichaelB]

I finally saw this last night, and it was exactly what I was hoping for - the nostalgia factor was off the scale. Not least because I knew a fair number of the interviewees personally, although some, like programme designer Mike Leedham, I hadn't seen in three decades. (I had the rare privilege of regularly getting to see the post-1989 Scala programmes at the layout stage, because Mike's studio also handled the Everyman Cinema ones that I was involved with commissioning.)

And what the doc did particularly well was underscore the place's cultural importance - it was a pioneer in holding fundraising events for striking miners, the Terrence Higgins Trust, Gay's The Word bookshop (the latter ludicrously raided by police looking for porn) and so on, as well as being pretty much the most gay-friendly cinema in the country. And indeed friendly full stop - a point made more than once, usually by a woman, is that they felt a lot safer there surrounded by fellow weirdos than they did in a great many other far more respectable venues. (My youngest brother - there's a six-year gap - was genuinely worried that he might not get out alive when he saw Django with me there and the audience broke out into wild cheers and applause when the priest was forced to eat his freshly-severed ear, but I assured him that he had nothing to worry about, as indeed he didn't.)

[Jonathan S]

... the most gay-friendly cinema in the country. And indeed friendly full stop...

I found them notably unfriendly when I had a job interview at the Scala (probably 1980s). They were the only potential employer who ever refused my polite request to reimburse proven travel expenses - and they were very rude with it too.

[MichaelB]

Commiserations, but that's not really relevant to the core point about how gay men and women of any sexuality felt much safer as punters in the Scala auditorium than they did in many other venues in the 1980s.

[Jonathan S]

Commiserations, but that's not really relevant to the core point about how gay men and women of any sexuality felt much safer as punters in the Scala auditorium than they did in many other venues in the 1980s.

As someone who was a gay man in the 1980s, I can honestly say I didn't feel any different in terms of safety in the Scala auditorium than any other cinema. I'm aware they did more gay programming. One of their more amusing interview tactics was to pretend to receive an erotic (gay) phone call mid-way, presumably to test whether I was likely to be fazed by the sort of material they presented, but since they knew I was already writing for various gay publications that was rather pointless.

[MichaelB]

As someone who was a gay man in the 1980s, I can honestly say I didn't feel any different in terms of safety in the Scala auditorium than any other cinema.

That's cool, but several people clearly felt differently, and it's a point that comes up more than once in the doc (repeatedly throughout, in fact), so it was an important issue for some.

As for your interview anecdote, I'd expect all applicants for the same job to be treated the same way, and I'd certainly be inclined to test how people performed in a live situation - I'm not sure how being comfortable with writing about similar topics would automatically guarantee that you'd pass with flying colours.

[The Curious Sofa]

As a gay man in 80s London, it's less that I felt more safe at the Scala than in other cinemas but that I felt more welcome there because it was close to my cultural sensibilities. A lot of staff there were gay, so I doubt they'd turn anyone down on grounds of sexuality but maybe some of the higher ups had attitude. The Scala had cultural cache in 80s London and the hip can be cruel (and apparently stingy)

[MichaelB]

Full specs announced:

SCALA!!! Or, the incredibly strange rise and fall of the world's wildest cinema and how it influenced a mixed-up generation of weirdos and misfits
A film by Jane Giles and Ali Catterall

'Riotously entertaining' Mark Kermode, Kermode and Mayo's Take

BFI Blu-ray, BFI Player Subscription Exclusive, iTunes and Amazon Prime release on 22 January 2024

See the trailer here

Archive footage, eye-popping movie clips, acid-crazed animation and famous names collide to tell the story of London’s infamous, influential Scala cinema. With its cracked marble floors, resident cats and mysterious, extrasensory rumblings, the Scala was magical and a refuge from the violence of Thatcher’s Britain. Following its release by BFI Distribution in cinemas UK-wide on 5 January 2024, it comes to Blu-ray and BFI Player Subscription exclusively on 22 January 2024. The disc is packed with special features including an audio commentary by the directors, Jane Giles, a former Scala programmer and Ali Catterall, a regular audience member, bonus interview footage shot for the film and a filmed portrait of the cinema from 1990.

Hilarious, irreverent and ultimately heartbreaking with a fabulous original score by Barry Adamson, SCALA!!! is more than mere nostalgia – it’s an X-rated love letter and a universal shout-out to the power of cinemas to inspire young minds and create a sense of community for outsiders. A place where everyone is welcome.

Among those interviewed about their own experiences of the Scala are John Waters, Stephen Woolley, JoAnne Sellar, Caroline Catz, Ben Wheatley, Ralph Brown, Mary Harron, Adam Buxton, Peter Strickland, Beeban Kidron, Isaac Julien and Stewart Lee.

A season of the Scala’s greatest hits, Scala: Sex, drugs and rock and roll cinema, runs at BFI Southbank throughout January with selected films on BFI Player.

Special features
• Audio commentary by directors Jane Giles and Ali Catterall
• Scala Interviews (2022, 60 mins): previously unseen bonus footage shot for the film
• Scala (1990, 35 mins): a portrait of the cinema made for Cable London
• Scala Cinema (1992, 4 mins): student film shot at the Scala
• Shorts shown at the Scala (1989-1991, 60 mins): a selection of short films seen at the cinema: Relax (Christopher Newby), Flames of Passion (Richard Kwietniowski), and Coping With Cupid (Viv Albertine)
• Animations by Osbert Parker (2022-2023, 4 mins total)
• Cartoons by Viz artist Davey Jones (2022, 3 mins)
• BFI London Film Festival introduction featuring cast, crew and audience participation (2023, 13 mins)
• Scala Programmes 1978-1993 (2023, 12 mins): a closer look at 15 editions
• Cabinet of Curiosities (2023, 18 mins): a guided tour of ephemera, photos and clippings from the Scala archive
• Trailer
• ***First pressing only*** Illustrated booklet with an introductory essay and Director’s Statement from co-directors Jane Giles and Ali Catterall; Scala Spirit 1993-2023 – former Scala programmers select the films they would have programmed following its closure; an essay by film director and animator Osbert Parker; notes on the special features and credits

Product details
RRP: £19.99 / Cat. no. BFIB1503/ 18
UK / 2023 / black and white, colour / 96 mins / English language with optional descriptive subtitles and audio description original aspect ratio 1.78:1 / BD50: 1080p, 24fps, DTS-HD Master Audio 5.1 audio

[beamish14]

This looks great, particularly the inclusion of the shorts. I’m really interested in seeing Viv Albertine’s

[The Curious Sofa]

I appreciate the problems of making a documentary about a cinema that's gone for three decades and where barely any archival footage exists, but this could have done a better job as a documentary. For most of the running time, they did the obvious Channel 5 (the most lowbrow of the main British TV channels) docu thing by getting the most famous people they could rope in to participate. Talking heads come up with 'amusing' anecdotes that end up strained and repetitive.

There is too much focus on the most well-known cult films (Eraserhead, Pink Flamingoes), which were midnight movie favorites all over the world, rather than the more obscure films that became hits there. It could have introduced an audience to some more bizarro classics. Thundercrack!, a rite of passage for any self-respecting Scala regular, was the rare exception. There is a brief mention of and a clip of Pink Narcissus, why not show more to add some visual and film-historical interest? Once The Scala moves to Kings Cross there is no sense of chronology, clips from the 80s and 90s become a jumble. Stephen Woolley, the most important person behind the Scala, barely features. This could also have touched on the story of Palace Pictures, including its role in making The Evil Dead a hit (which I also first saw at The Scala). The programmers could have talked more about their choices. I would have loved to see Jayne Pilling interviewed more rather than have a brief voice-over, she was a friend and she is hugely knowledgeable about film and not just her specialised field of animation. The sections which put the Scala in a wider context of what was going on in London at the time, are too brief and confined to the beginning and the end. Jane Giles' (mammoth) book on the Scala is so much better at putting the cinema in a historical context and maybe I'm disappointed because I hoped the film would take more of a lead from that.

I got more out of the special features, especially the cable documentary of which sections were used in the docu. It's hilariously pretentious in the way British "yoof TV" like Network 7 and Club X was back then, but also gave a better sense of the place, especially with its three wonderfully eccentric interviewees. The documentary should have found more genuine audience members like them, rather than well-known faces, whose professed deep connection I had my doubts about. There seems to be some unwritten law that Stuart Lee gets to peddle his matey shtick in every nostalgia fest about the 80s/90s, he has long stopped coming across as genuine. I also liked the extra on Scala mementos and think that could have ended up in the film

The documentary mostly tries to explain The Scala to an audience that has never heard of it and while that widens its appeal, from the effort here I can't see why they should be interested.

[Jonathan S]

I've seen only the documentary itself on BFI Player - which a few weeks ago also announced a restored edition of Thundercrack! as "coming soon" on the subscription service... then quietly withdrew it.

Unsurprisingly, the doc doesn't reflect much of the sedate side of the Scala which (as a visiting non-Londoner) I mainly experienced in the daytime, e.g. classic Hollywood and arthouse programmes in an auditorium at least three-quarters empty, where the cat(s) happily strutted along the rows of empty seats rather than rubbing themselves against patrons' legs (as recounted in the doc). Even the real and rough-looking biker gangs who attended films like Scorpio Rising were far better behaved and more respectful of the films than some NFT audiences.

Although only the illicit screening of A Clockwork Orange was mentioned, wasn't it the Scala that exhibited pirate prints of the once-unavailable Hitchcocks, like Rear Window and Vertigo, in the early 1980s? When I was studying Hitchcock at Warwick University, these films (and three others) hadn't been seen anywhere for 10-15 years and there was talk of a group outing to one of these illicit showings, which must have been quite openly promoted.

The Scala's all-nighters, in terms of programming, seem similar to the ones I remember at Warwick's film society (trumpeted as the largest in the UK) from 1979.

In the late 1970s, before I knew the Scala, I used to frequent Manchester's Aaben Cinema, sometimes dubbed "the Scala of the North" and arguably situated in a more dangerous area (at least then) than King's Cross. I remember walking through the notorious Moss Side to reach the Aaben then settling down to, say, a Cagney or Tati double-bill.

[The Curious Sofa]

A Clockwork Orange is significant because according to lore it was part of the Scala's downfall, it even made the papers back then. The documentary refers to the movie as being banned, which implies censorship by the BBFC, but it was withdrawn from distribution by Kubrick himself after tabloid hysteria and threats to his family.

They may well have had secret screenings before, I didn't live in London yet when the five missing Hitchcock films were out of circulation, my move there actually coincided with their official re-release. I bet there were secret showings of these films in repertory houses all around the world, I first saw Vertigo at a secret screening at a Hitchcock retrospective at the Munich Film Museum in 1981.

[GaryC]

A Clockwork Orange is significant because according to lore it was part of the Scala's downfall, it even made the papers back then. The documentary refers to the movie as being banned, which implies censorship by the BBFC, but it was withdrawn from distribution by Kubrick himself after tabloid hysteria and threats to his family.

They may well have had secret screenings before

From memory, they had more than one, though to confirm this you'd have to look through the programmes reproduced in Jane Giles's book. The one shown in the documentary was billed as a surprise film in a double bill with if.... but I do remember one showing advertised as "a timely and fruitful surprise" and I was thinking of going to that but didn't. (I first saw the film in Paris, the first year I Interrailed.)

And like Jonathan S, I do remember mostly empty daytime screenings, such as the first time I saw the Kenneth Anger Magick Lantern Cycle, commuting up from Southampton to do so.

[MichaelB]

but I do remember one showing advertised as "a timely and fruitful surprise" and I was thinking of going to that but didn't.

Just as well you didn't, because you had further to travel to me, and when I went there I found it had been mysteriously cancelled.

[The Curious Sofa]

I remember "surprise films" but they generally were previews of brand new movies, one I saw which was advertised as such was "A Nightmare on Elm Street 3" at a Shock Around the Clock" event. It was a "surprise" because it was the most high profile movie in the programme. While the U.K. was quite censorious in the 80s, the Scala could show almost any cinematic outrage due to its private club status, so there wasn't the need for lots of forbidden screenings. The only exceptions were films which were withdrawn by the right holders themselves (Kubrick, Hitchcock) but there weren't many cases of that.

[Jonathan S]

I've seen only the documentary itself on BFI Player - which a few weeks ago also announced a restored edition of Thundercrack! as "coming soon" on the subscription service... then quietly withdrew it.

The "painstakingly restored" Thundercrack! has suddenly reappeared without fanfare on BFI Player and is available to watch now (subscription required).

[GaryC]

I've seen only the documentary itself on BFI Player - which a few weeks ago also announced a restored edition of Thundercrack! as "coming soon" on the subscription service... then quietly withdrew it.

The "painstakingly restored" Thundercrack! has suddenly reappeared without fanfare on BFI Player and is available to watch now (subscription required).

And BFI Player are displaying an 18 certificate (for "strong real sex, nudity"), though there's no entry for the film on the BBFC database. I know streaming services can stream films which haven't been submitted to the BBFC, but when BFI Player have done that, they don't show BBFC certificates on their site.

I won't be streaming this as I own the Synapse Blu-ray, but this is interesting. I did wonder when I saw it if it might get past the BBFC with an 18 rather than a R18, which would depend on whether they consider it a "sex work" or not, and I'd argue that it isn't, despite the hardcore sex.

[MichaelB]

Tartan considered releasing it in the early 2000s, but were advised that it would get an R18 uncut. Ditto The Good Old Naughty Days, which is why that never emerged on a UK DVD either.

In both cases, they acknowledged that the films technically went beyond normal 18 guidelines (especially The Good Old Naughty Days, which is wall-to-wall hardcore filth), but thought that there might be historical/cultural mitigating circumstances - but they thought wrongly.

See also Arrow's dispiriting experience with Radley Metzger's Score, where again they were offered an R18 uncut or an 18 for the milder version (which at least was Metzger-approved).

(Tartan dipped a cautious toe in the water with regard to R18 films by releasing both 18 and R18 versions of The Pornographer, only to find out that it's literally impossible to make money on R18 films without a financial interest in a sex shop chain - the only place in the UK where R18 titles can be legally sold. Even tweaking the law very slightly to allow mail order would make all the difference - and it's an absurdly outdated law anyway because there's nothing to stop me importing R18-worthy titles via the same postal system)

[foggy eyes]

I appreciate the problems of making a documentary about a cinema that's gone for three decades and where barely any archival footage exists, but this could have done a better job as a documentary. For most of the running time, they did the obvious Channel 5 (the most lowbrow of the main British TV channels) docu thing by getting the most famous people they could rope in to participate. Talking heads come up with 'amusing' anecdotes that end up strained and repetitive.

There is too much focus on the most well-known cult films (Eraserhead, Pink Flamingoes), which were midnight movie favorites all over the world, rather than the more obscure films that became hits there. It could have introduced an audience to some more bizarro classics. Thundercrack!, a rite of passage for any self-respecting Scala regular, was the rare exception. There is a brief mention of and a clip of Pink Narcissus, why not show more to add some visual and film-historical interest? Once The Scala moves to Kings Cross there is no sense of chronology, clips from the 80s and 90s become a jumble. Stephen Woolley, the most important person behind the Scala, barely features. This could also have touched on the story of Palace Pictures, including its role in making The Evil Dead a hit (which I also first saw at The Scala). The programmers could have talked more about their choices. I would have loved to see Jayne Pilling interviewed more rather than have a brief voice-over, she was a friend and she is hugely knowledgeable about film and not just her specialised field of animation. The sections which put the Scala in a wider context of what was going on in London at the time, are too brief and confined to the beginning and the end. Jane Giles' (mammoth) book on the Scala is so much better at putting the cinema in a historical context and maybe I'm disappointed because I hoped the film would take more of a lead from that.

I expected to have a blast with this film but have to say I had the same reservations detailed here. Seeing it in a cinema the initial procession of now-comfortable names and media people telling you how wild and out-there they and the Scala were felt a little forced and cringe, and didn't fully land. I was surprised the film didn't give a better sense of the space than it does, but if few photographs and little archive footage exists, I understand they can't go back and film something that's so different now. The programming receives shorter shrift than you'd expect, given how central it was to the whole enterprise. The film is probably less for cinephiles and more about impressing on regular folk, outsiders, how cool everyone involved was, but that becomes a bit of a problem because you can't force it too much...

[The Curious Sofa]

I still went to the Scala once it became a club and music venue. I saw a few bands there and the Britpop and indie music gay club Pop Starz made its home at the Scala for several years but I always got an odd sense of deja vu being there. Especially in the first floor lobby and the labyrinth of staircases which remained the same, while the auditorium got divided into a balcony bar and a dance floor with a stage.

[reaky]

I don’t know if this is mentioned in the film, but another part of Scala history is that it was the venue (in the same July 1972 weekend!) for the UK live debuts of both Lou Reed and Iggy Pop, photos from which became the covers of Transformer and Raw Power. There’s a commemorative plaque there now.