How one man's dream has saved antique cinemas from Headingley's Cottage Road to Skipton's Plaza and The Rex at Elland

Every date along the way is ingrained in his memory. It’s the realisation of a life-long dream and all the hard work along the way, clearing debris and old rot to save something special. In an age when many independent cinemas are struggling, he is determined to survive.

“It all sort of happened by circumstance,” he said. “I always wanted to run a cinema. I never thought it would happen this way.”

As a teenager, Mr Morris worked part-time as a projectionist, and was just 13 when he showed his first film alone. His parents were keen though that he pursued a ‘respectable profession’. It was many years later that the engineer, encouraged by wife Judy, returned.

It started with the Rex, in 1988. Then a derelict and empty bingo hall, it was set to be converted into three shops before he stepped in. Still, it’s his favourite. The Rex has just held 110 years as an original, purpose built, structurally unaltered single-screen cinema.

In the earliest days of cinema, Mr Morris explained, film was highly flammable. Many were shown in old music halls, then came the first cinemas.

“The Rex was quite an early example,” he said. “It is even more rare for a cinema to have survived all this time.”

The cinema opened on December 16, 1912. The directors were local, a wine merchant, a coal merchant, and a commercial traveller, who had put in the finances. There was no feature film, and no sound. The manager, Harry Taylor, would have played the piano. With ‘talkies’ came a conversion, and it was rather late for Elland in October 1931. It was called Central Picture House then, and the first film was Whoopee, with Eddie Cantor.

“People would have flocked to it, just because of the novelty,” said Mr Morris. The cinema’s heyday was to rage through the 1920s and 30s, but it struggled in war.

“There would have been plenty of people going, but there was a heavy tax,” he explained. “By the time it was repealed, television was in full swing. Things were difficult from then on.”

The cinema was closed in 1959, but even with a brief reprisal bingo had begun to creep in and it finally closed in 1985. By 1988, when Mr Morris heard it was going, it was derelict.

There was no projector, the screen had been ripped by vandals, dry rot had set in. The Morris’s, with 12-year-old son James and friends, fixed it all by hand bar laying new carpet. The Rex reopened October 7, 1988, with a film called Big Business starring Bette Midler.

“We were underwhelmed, I have to say,” said Mr Morris. “But we persevered. My wife and I leafletted the area, we would do it for a year. Not long after that we had a film called Shirley Valentine.... suddenly we were packed to the rafters. From then on, it took off like a rocket.”

The couple varied the programme, with a festival of Yorkshire films. After a friend brought in an electric organ, they tried organ concerts on Sunday afternoon, which proved a hit.

Then, moving to the Lake District to take on the Royalty at Bowness, Mr Morris took a call from the late Bob Cryer MP. Keighley’s Picture House was struggling - could it work? It was an “instant success”, said Mr Morris, opening July 5, 1996. Then Skipton’s Plaza came up, the owner retiring. Again, Mr Morris stepped in, opening May 1, 1998.

By then he was gaining a reputation. There were some “glorious years” with the ABC Lancaster, before a multiplex moved in. The Roxy in Ulverston, again the owner wanted to retire. Then in 2005, Cottage Road in Headingley came to be threatened.

“My wife and I went on a sunny afternoon in July and spoke to the owner,” said Mr Morris. “It was so last minute the early newspapers had it as closed - and the later editions as saved.”

The cinemas now get very good reviews, said Mr Morris. What crops up is the old-fashioned interval, and personal service. A more relaxed, social atmosphere.

“We have tea and coffee, served in proper mugs,” he said. “We don’t rip people off with confectionery. We’re all enthusiasts. It’s a job to do it, but a job we enjoy.

“It can’t be denied that since lockdown it has been a bit of a struggle,” he added. “Everywhere, for all cinemas. The message has to be that if people want cinemas to survive they have got to patronise them.”

In the wake of lockdowns, said Mr Morris, there weren’t as many films on offer. Distributors were used to releasing on streaming, and viewers had adapted too. Cinemas’ popularity comes in waves and cycles, he reflected. Through war, taxes, and television, it had always risen again.

“I’m determined to come through it,” he said. “We need people’s help to stick with it. People always say there’s nothing like watching a film on the big screen.”

When it comes to the Rex, marking a momentous age, he said it’s still a “much loved institution.” The programme is packed, and varied. Alongside blockbuster Hollywood movies there are showings of Yorkshire’s Allelujah, scripted by Alan Bennett. Then classics, and musicals. Mr Morris’ cinemas have all struggled at times, adapting to thrive with the times. He is determined to continue.

“I love all my cinemas,” reflected Mr Morris. “The Rex has to be the one I love more than the others. It was my first. It was derelict, it was closed. Nobody asked us, nobody wanted us. We brought it up from absolutely nothing. All the others, they wanted to be saved.”