Historic HB: Theatre manager told to 'tai ho on the fisticuffs'

One of Mayfair theatre manager Alan Shepherd's promotions was bringing the family dog Chris - who had a striking resemblance to the dog Lassie, to the theatre.

Napier at the end of 1960 had three theatres: the Mayfair in Emerson St, State in Dickens St, and the newly opened Odeon in Hastings St.

Especially in the days before television, cinemas competed vigorously with each other to get patrons to watch their pictures.

A key factor in driving people into a theatre was the promotions by the manager – and the better ones perfected the art of being showmen and dressed the part in tuxedos.

One of the best seen in Hawke's Bay was Australian Alan Shepherd (1925 – 2008) who was manager at the Mayfair from 1959 to 1965 and then the Odeon until 1968, before leaving for Blenheim and Australia, before returning to the Odeon from 1975 to 1986.

Before becoming a cinema manager,  Alan was a boxer, and he had two distinctions ─ he never fought as an amateur, and he was never knocked out. He boxed all over Australia and New Zealand, including the Hastings and Napier Municipal Theatres.

Alan's New Zealand- born wife Shirley had family ties to Napier, so when a position in 1959 as theatre manager at the Mayfair Theatre became available, he applied, and was successful.

Alan would get a reputation of sorting out any problems with troublesome youth in his theatre, which would receive the attention of his boss – none other than Robert Kerridge (1901 -1979) – who had built a large cinema chain (Kerridge Odeon) that owned or controlled 133 cinemas.

His method of restoring order, would of course not be allowed today, but it was effective – as he explained in his autobiography From the Canvas Up about his early days at the Mayfair:

The previous manager could not have been very good at controlling the rowdy element and a lot of larrikins needed straightening up to bring order back into the theatre for the comfort of other patrons. It took me a month of banging heads, taking so-called toughs into the toilet and thumping them into submission before order was restored.

One day a knock came on Alan's office door. A man was standing outside who Alan recognised from photos as none other than theatre magnate Robert Kerridge. The men exchanged pleasantries and both sat down. After half an hour Robert Kerridge stood to leave:  Just one thing Alan. I've received several complaints about you being a bit free with your fists.

Michael Fowler

After Alan explained that there had been no trouble for a while, and that the last manager had let discipline lapse, Robert Kerridge told him to "tai ho on the fisticuffs".

Alan later learned that Robert Kerridge had suggested to other Kerridge Odeon managers that if they needed to keep order in their theatres, that they should give Alan Shepherd a call in Napier.

His daughter Esther remembers growing up in Napier as a young child during the period Alan was managing theatres here. Her dad, she explains was very protective, and during her dating days if she took a date to the theatre, she would have to sit in an allocated seat – directly where Alan could shine his manager's torch. If a date were brought home to the family home, he would be greeted with a torso photo of boxer Alan Shepherd hanging over the fireplace. Is that your dad, dates would nervously ask, – yes, said Esther.

Not only did he work at movie theatres, but also in managing theatre productions in Napier as well. He bonded with many of the artists that came to Napier, including the dwarfs from a stage show of Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs. Alan and his wife Shirley were great hosts and many, including the dwarfs and famous clarinettist, Acker Bilk – who became a personal friend of Alan's – ended up at parties at the Shepherd household.

Alan's promotions for movies today would be difficult to achieve.

On one occasion, Alan secured the services of two of the local army headquarters Valentine tanks to promote the film No Time to Die (1958). He had arranged with one of the tank drivers to break down in the main street to get people's attention, before he parked the tank outside the theatre.

However, the tank could not be restarted for over an hour, and blocked traffic in Emerson Street. The traffic officers were not amused by this, but the film was packed out over its entire season.

Napierites in 1960 were surprised to see a doctor wheeling around a patient through the central business district of Napier covered in bandages and bleeding profusely. They were even more astonished to see the patient get out of the wheelchair and lift it over the kerb.

Police on traffic duty were annoyed when the doctor and patient walked into the way of traffic with the doctor yelling "Emergency! Emergency!"  It turns out that the doctor was Odeon Theatre staff member Johnny McCarthy, and a friend was the patient, who had the blood of a sheep poured over him. This was another one of Alan's showman stunts to promote a film called Siege of Pinchgut (1959).

The local constabulary began to take a more than passing interest in Alan Shepherd's promotional stunts, and the Siege of Pinchgut incident meant charges from police of disturbing the peace were likely forthcoming.  He however escaped prosecution due to some "fast talking". The police however made it clear that they were tired of his public nuisance stunts.

All of these stunts (and many more!) contributed to Alan Shepherd winning the J. Arthur Rank Trophy for best showman in Kerridge Odeon in 1962, 1963 and 1964. The award was discontinued after Alan's last win – likely as it was hard to beat him.

Similar to his career as a boxer, Alan often found himself "against the ropes" in real life. The tragic death of his mother in hospital, the brutal murder of his sister Norma, and the killing of his brother Tom in a hotel bar after someone hit him with a billiards cue, all left a mark. His early upbringing was difficult as well.

Despite his way of dealing with matters in a way he saw fit, Alan had a strong sense of justice – and was a fair man and would support and stick up for those who needed help. If you played by the rules, respected others – you would do alright by Alan – and if you didn't, you'd certainly be told how to behave.

He cared about the welfare of young people which often involved giving up the little family time he did have at a youth club where young people released a lot of energy dancing rock'n'roll and "doing the twist".

In his later years, his strong sense of justice led him to support his fellow, elderly members of a mobile home park after he believed events occurring from the owner were not fair to the residents.

Many will still remember Alan Shepherd during his time in Napier. I would have liked to have met him in person.

Thanks to his daughter, Esther Edmonds and David Turnbull, who wrote of Alan in our book The Reel Story. A History of Napier and Hastings Cinemas 1896- 1996.

Michael Fowler (mfhistory@gmail.com) is a contract researcher, and writer of Hawke's Bay history.