Director: Jane Giles, Ali Catterall
Screenplay: Jane Giles, Ali Catterall
Starring: Jane Giles, Stephen Woolley, Vic Roberts, Ralph Brown, Adam Buxton, Graham Humphreys, Kim Newman, Peter Strickland, John Waters
Country: UK
Running Time: 96 min
Year: 2023
BBFC Certificate: 18
The Scala was a repertory cinema that was first established in 1978 in the Fitzrovian district of London before moving to the then rather unsavoury area of King’s Cross in 1981. It was there that the cinema truly came into its own, developing a reputation among those in the know as the place to be for exploring the more weird and wonderful side of the film world.
It was dilapidated, dirty, picked up the sound from the underground running beneath it and would often be used as a place to get laid or take drugs. However, the Scala remains fondly remembered by those who frequented its cavernous auditorium before it was closed down in 1993.
Jane Giles, who was a film programmer at the Scala between 1988 and 1992, clearly held the place close to her heart as she went on to write a book about its history, speaking to various fans and staff members. This was published by FAB Press in 2018.
Her experiences in conducting research for the book and hearing passionate, eye-opening stories from numerous Scala visitors, many of whom went on to be filmmakers, artists, musicians or writers, inspired Giles to turn her book into a documentary. She co-directed it alongside her editor, Ali Catterall, and the film, entitled Scala!!!, has gone on to find many fans of its own.
After playing in selected cinemas and numerous festivals, the BFI have now recently released Scala!!! on Blu-ray and numerous digital platforms, including their own BFI Player. I’d already seen the film but wanted to give it another look to share my thoughts and dive into the treasure trove of extra material on the Blu-ray.
Scala!!! is a lot of fun, offering a wealth of amusing, affectionate but unvarnished stories about the history of the cinema. On top of singing the praises of the Scala, the film is, generally, a celebration of the power of film and shared experiences in a cinema in particular. This very much spoke to me, despite never having ventured into the Scala myself (I lived up north back then and was only 11 when it closed).
The film and, maybe even more so, the extra hour of interviews included here where the contributors flesh out their backstories, also reminded me of my youth when I first got into films and didn’t have the internet as we know it now. Back then, we found out about films from books and magazines or word of mouth if we had friends into films. Places like the Scala were vital in educating people about what films lay beyond the Hollywood studios.
The period the cinema ran is important to note too, being, as Giles and Catterall put it in their booklet notes, “a turbulent period of political, social and technological change in the UK, divided and presided over by a hard-right Conservative government and reported on by an analogue media”. This might help explain the relevance of a venue that celebrated counterculture and provided a second home for those wishing to step away from ‘the norm’. With the state of the UK today not so dissimilar to how it was back then, it makes the nostalgia prevalent here even more affecting. Perhaps we need a new Scala in our lives.
The film particularly notes the place the Scala had in the LGBT+ community in London back then too. The programmers’ progressive outlooks often synced up with their tastes, meaning it became a safe haven for those often marginalised from society.
Whilst I did appreciate what was being celebrated in the film, I did find the documentary quite straightforward, in essence. It’s very much a ‘love-in’ and with numerous well-regarded, largely British artists, filmmakers and such throwing their two-penneth in, it did have a slight flavour of those nostalgic ‘life in the 70s/80s/90s’ TV documentaries you get often filling gaps in the schedules.
What does separate the documentary from these though and another aspect that kept me glued to the screen, even on a rewatch, was the wealth of film clips included. Countless snippets of the wild and thrilling titles shown at the Scala are thrown into the mix, as well as some fun animated sequences and the sketching of a comic book-style tableau depicting some of the documentary’s anecdotes.
So, whilst it may be fairly straightforward in terms of style and approach, it’s hard not to fall for Scala!!!’s charms and wish you were back there in the 80s, sat in the filthy chairs, enjoying some bizarre cinematic treats.
Film: 
Scala!!! is out now on Blu-Ray, BFI Player Subscription Exclusive, iTunes and Amazon Prime release, released by the BFI. With so many clips used coming from various sources, it’s difficult to comment on the picture quality but most of them look nicely restored (aided by the fact a number of the films have been recently re-released by the BFI themselves). The new material, being digitally shot, looks suitably sharp and colours are nice. I did notice some strange things happening to Jah Wobble’s tie, so there might be some upscaling or format conversion issues but I didn’t notice any other problems. I’ve used screengrabs throughout this review to give you an idea of how it looks. Audio is also solid.
SPECIAL FEATURES
– Presented in High Definition
– Audio commentary by directors Jane Giles and Ali Catterall
– Scala Interviews (2022, 60 mins): a selection of previously unseen footage shot for the film, chosen by the directors
– Scala (1990, 35 mins): a portrait of the cinema, originally made to be shown on the Cable London television channel, directed by Michael Clifford
– Scala Cinema (1992, 4 mins): a short student film, shot at the Scala cinema, directed by Ali Peck and Victor de Jesus
– London Film Festival introduction (2023, 13 mins): an introduction to the screening of the film, featuring the directors, the cast, the crew and audience participation, recorded at the London Film Festival in 2023
– Animations by Osbert Parker (2022-23, 4 mins total): artist Osbert Parker’s animations, made for the film
– Cartoons by Viz artist Davey Jones (2023): the Viz artist draws a special cartoon for the film
– Shorts Shown at the Scala (1989-91): a selection of short films seen at the cinema – Relax (Christopher Newby, 1991, 23 mins), Flames of Passion (Richard Kwietniowski, 1989, 18 mins), and Coping With Cupid (Viv Albertine, 1990, 19 mins)
– Scala Programmes 1978-1993 (2023, 12 mins): a closer look at 15 editions of the Scala programme
– Cabinet of Curiosities (2023, 18 mins): a guided tour of photos, ephemera and clippings from the Scala archive
– Theatrical trailer
– English language with optional descriptive subtitles and audio description
– **FIRST PRESSING ONLY** Illustrated booklet featuring a statement from the directors, new writing on the film and archive writing about the Scala
I liked the extra hour of interviews a lot. These play out at a slower pace than the film itself and allow the interviewees more time to talk about their stories – how they got into films and learnt about the Scala. It paints a strong picture of the film scene back in the 80s.
The commentary is decent but I didn’t get as drawn into it in the same way as the extra interviews. The two directors enjoy reminiscing and watching the film together, which rubs off in the listener, but there wasn’t a huge amount of revelatory information.
The pair also show up in an introduction to the film at the London Film Festival. This is a bit of a love-in but fits with the celebration of cinema-going on screen.
The addition of 3 short films that played at The Scala is a welcome move. They nicely capture the range of films and counter-culture focus of the cinema and allow you to have your own mini ‘Scala night’ alongside the main feature.
‘Scala Cinema’ is a short student documentary that celebrates the cinema with a near-poetic voiceover playing over rough but well-thought-out footage of the cinema back when it was still running. Much of this material has been borrowed for the main film.
The trio of animations made for the film can be seen in full on the disc. These are very good. The programme montage is particularly clever and well-executed. The others are fun too.
There’s a short piece about the cartoon drawn for the documentary. Davey Jones is not the most charismatic speaker but I loved seeing him do his work.
‘Cabinet of Curiosities’ provides a look at a handful of photos and paraphernalia from the Scala staff, with commentary by co-director Jane Giles. It adds another layer of atmosphere, offering a glimpse behind the scenes of the running of the cinema. It’s a more enjoyable and interesting piece than you might expect, working almost like a museum tour with a more ‘nuts-and-bolts’ approach than the nostalgic film itself.
Giles also talks over a collection of programme scans, offering a detailed look at how the films were selected as well as how the physical programmes were designed. They were works of art on top of showcasing the wonderful films shown at the cinema.
The booklet includes a handy written summary of the history of the Scala and the aims of the film. Then you have a fun piece where former staff members talk about what films they think would be screened if the cinema was still running. Finally, on top of the usual extensive lists of credits and such, you get a piece on the animated shorts included in the film and separately on the Blu-ray. It’s particularly enjoyable to hear how the tentacles in the short of the same name were created.
So, the BFI have crafted a wonderful package to supplement Giles and Catterall’s affectionate tribute to The Scala. Those who love the communal experience of cinema-going and have a taste for films outside the mainstream would be well-advised to pick up this disc.
Disc/package:
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