By Jane Giles

FAB Press, available to pre-order now via Fabpress.com

25 years after it closed its doors following an acrimonious court case, former programme manager Jane Giles gives us the inside track on those 15 halcyon years when the Scala Cinema was the capital’s go-to destination for the weird and wonderful.

I only visited the Scala twice, both were events relating to Italian director Dario Argento, and thanks to the inclusion of all of the cinema’s 178 programmes, I can pinpoint those visits to Saturday 29 June (Dario Argento Triple and signing) and 6 July 1991 (All Night Argento). Living over 100 miles away from the venue, and not being 18 until 1986, the venue held a mystical lure for me, showing the sort of psychotronic movies I craved, but ultimately outside of my reach. When I did finally go, it made a huge impression on me – I’d never seen such a huge bunch of fellow horrorhounds – and I’d never experienced an auditorium before which rumbled when underground trains shot past.

Over a million people walked through the movie palace across the road from Kings Cross. This was during the era of the ‘video nasties’, where many young filmgoers were discovering the weird and wonderful works of Euro trash directors and US purveyors of z-list drive-in fare. The Scala made it possible to see these forbidden or obscure treasures on a big screen, and its this enthusiasm that comes through in the book’s pages. The Scala wasn’t changing the world, but it meant something to a lot of people, as evidenced by the testimonials shared during the SOS Appeal.

A large portion of the volume is dedicated to the monthly programme on the right and a commentary on the left, often including newspaper clippings or details of special events. It gives you the opportunity to dive in to a year or month, and perhaps put to bed some long-standing arguments you might have had over whether you saw a certain film there, or which film was shown most regularly.

A combination of factors sealed the fate of the venue, the most notorious being a lengthy court case by Warner Brothers over a screening of A Clockwork Orange. But there’s no anger or bitterness, just a recognition that things were changing in the world and that a perfect storm of woes would ultimately force the doors to close.

Verdict: Whether you were a regular, visited occasionally, or only know it by reputation, this is a fascinating time capsule, and a very handsome book too. If truth be told, the Scala itself was never this classy or top drawer (it was more top shelf) but how lovely that this fleapit is being immortalised in such a prestige way. 9/10

Nick Joy