Scala!!!

This no-bars-hold documentary about London’s infamous and influential Scala cinema is more than just a trip down memory lane. It is an X-rated love letter to a place where pretty much everything was allowed, everyone was welcomed and for a few hours, folks found an escape hatch from the depressing era of Thatcher’s Britain. With a riveting original score by Barry Adamson, SCALA!!! took five years to complete and those who were lucky enough to be among the regular punters will be particularly happy about this wildly entertaining Blu-ray release.

Ok, for those who never experienced a visit to the Scala first hand, this release may have only limited appeal (a fact that former Scala chief/ programme deviser Jane Giles, who contributes greatly to this film along with writer/filmmaker Ali Catteral, will be only too well aware of). But to those of us who were fortunate enough to live in London during those glorious Scala heydays it will be of some considerable interest and may well become a beloved ‘souvenir’ if that’s the word. Ah, was there ever anything quite like it (not that this reviewer is aware of) and sadly, there probably never will be again. For a certain kind of person, the Scala was never less than a celluloid dream palace.

This insightful documentary concentrates mainly on the last Scala, that is to say that grand building in Pentonville Road, just east of King's Cross Station (before that, namely from ’78-82, it was in Tottenham Street and was run by Stephen Wooley and Jayne Pilling). The rather splendid building in Pentonville Road opened in 1920 as the King's Cross Cinema, with a capacity audience of well over a thousand. Occasionally a music venue before the Scala moved in, Iggy Pop And The Stooges and also Lou Reed performed there, as can be seen in the doc. The move to this palatial paradise occurred in 1981 and lasted for twelve glorious years.
Interspersed with clips ranging from the bizarre and unsavoury to occasionally cult classics which were screened at this legendary cinema, we are treated to a vast array of interviews with many of the Scala's former patrons including DJ and record producer Mark Moore, who candidly informs us that he often got chucked out after being caught trying to 'bunk in' - of course, he was a mere slip of a lad in those days and perhaps skint. There were few places that Mark could go to and watch the kind of films he wanted to see. Of course, another thing about the Scala was that they often did all nighters and for many, this meant the beginning of a new outlet and new friends. For them, it was literally a home from home.

It goes without saying that American filmmaker John Waters is a 'Scala' aficionado and he is featured heavily among the interviewees (although unlike most, he isn't actually at the venue). We get to see clips from some of his films screened at the Scala, including Mondo Trasho. As Waters puts it: “The Scala had magic. It was like joining a club – a very secret club, like a biker gang or something … they could show films uncut because they had memberships, well that’s insane! It’s like they were a country club for criminals and lunatics and people that were high… which is a good way to see movies.”

Actor and screenwriter David McGillivray ('the Truffaut of Smut' according to bright-spectacled film critic Matthew Sweet) was a regular there and shows us the now much altered toilets while pointing out that he never took part in any ‘activity’ during those hazy days. What on earth was he talking about? Of course, David was never without a sense of humour while most of the films shown at the Scala would have undoubtedly appealed to him (after all, he did write most of those 70s’ Pete Walker 'horror shockers' to say nothing of the work he did with Norman J. Warren).
Jah Wobble and filmmakers Peter Strickland and Mary Harron mention the effect that watching David Lynch's 'Eraserhead' had on them. Jumping the gun a little, the revered comic Stewart Lee also appears in the interviews and tells us he thought the place was 'absolutely brilliant' whilst confessing his mystification about Pasolini's 'Pigsty' - most would probably agree on both counts.

The new owners generously agreed to let the team film at the actual venue and it is nice to see most of the interviewees sitting on or around those famous exit/entrance stairs… how many well known feet walked up and down those steps? Many of them could, one supposes, indeed be 'cultural refugees attempting to escape from Thatcher's Britain. This oasis certainly provided a damned good antidote! Nobody really gave a damn about the venue being a bit grotty; well, the resident cats certainly didn’t mind. Indeed, it was a place for weirdos and misfits where the audience antics often outdid the on-screen antics!
One is rather 'put on the spot' when it comes to talking about how it all ended and you can make up your own mind. Was it a wise decision? Most of the Scalarites will know the story anyway. Should we condone or condemn the never less than estimable Jane Giles (who provided the programing) when she decided that the chosen mystery film to be screened (she could not publicize upfront what it was going to be) was non other than Stanley Kubrick's notorious 'A Clockwork Orange'. Unfortunately, Warner Brothers were tipped off about the screening (back then illegal) and sued. This effectively put the kibosh on and signalled the eventual end of a rare and unique institution, which was forced to shut its doors for good in 1993.

There really isn't enough space to discuss all the numerous bonus features. The amount of info on offer really is quite exhausting and if the interviews are not more than enough we have animations by Osbert Parker, cartoons by Davey Jones, a couple of intriguing shorts plus Jane Giles talking about the Scala programmes at great length. This is just touching the tip of the iceberg. Indispensable for the Scalarite and looking at those old programmes will doubtless bring back many happy memories. Would that we had such a place today. Indeed, indeed.