Childhood Adventures at the Lido Cinema: Nostalgic Memories of Cork’s Golden Era
Reel Memories: Childhood Adventures at the Lido Cinema and Beyond
For many, the allure of the silver screen has always been more than just entertainment—it was a portal to adventure, a weekly escape from the ordinary. Finbar Bevan, from Kilnap Place in Farranree, fondly recalls the magic of the Lido cinema in Cork during the 1950s, a time when resourcefulness and determination were as much a part of the experience as the films themselves.
“It was the hub of our entertainment,” Finbar reminisced. Growing up in Spangle Hill, now Farranree, he and his friends were captivated by the serialized films—known as the “following up one”—that left audiences on the edge of their seats. “The good guy would be fighting the baddie on top of a stagecoach, the girl inside, the horses bolting toward a cliff—and we’d have to wait a whole week to see how it ended,” he said.
But getting to the Lido wasn’t as simple as buying a ticket. “Money was very scarce,” Finbar explained. “We had to find ways to earn the fourpence admission fee.” His resourceful gang often ventured into the countryside to gather blackberries, which they’d sell for half a crown—just enough for the cinema and a treat afterward. “With the leftover pennies, we’d head to the Pantry Shop for a glass of raza and a cake,” he said.
The ingenuity didn’t stop there. During World War II, when glass was in short supply, Finbar’s older brothers collected jam jars to exchange for entry. “The Lido would sell the jars to a fruit factory. Practical logic, you’d say,” he quipped.
Other money-making schemes included scouring factory dumps for Harpic tins with aluminum tops or gathering glass bottles to sell. “We’d wash them in the river and get a penny or tuppence for each one,” he said. “It was hard work, but it was worth it to see our heroes escape impossible situations.”
The Lido wasn’t just a cinema; it was a community hub where friendships were forged and imaginations ignited. “We’d spend three months following those serials, and every week, we’d somehow make the money,” Finbar said. “It was gripping stuff, and those characters were our heroes, no mistake.”
Meanwhile, Tim Morley shared his own memories of Cork’s cinema scene, noting the Coliseum on MacCurtain Street, the tiny Lee cinema with just 200 seats, and the Imperial on Oliver Plunkett Street. He also highlighted a surprising Cork connection to the iconic Rank gong. “The man striking the gong was Bombardier Billy Wells, a UK boxing champion who once fought Cork’s own Packie Mahony, breaking his jaw. Packie kept fighting, though—tough as nails, like all of us,” Tim said.
Mike English added to the nostalgia, recalling Cudmore’s fruit shop across from The Lee cinema. “The smell of fruit was incredible,” he said. The Lee also hosted Sunday shows, where performers like Joseph Locke entertained audiences. Mike also remembered the Cameo cinema, where season tickets were required, and The Classic, known for its foreign films.
The memories extended beyond the screen. Tim Cagney shared a delightful tale of collecting Urney Chocolate wrappers to earn a “Dantro Badge,” inspired by the radio adventures of Dantro the Planetman. “I proudly wore that badge on my school blazer,” Tim said.
These stories, rich with nostalgia, paint a vivid picture of a time when cinema wasn’t just about the films—it was about community, creativity, and the joy of shared experiences. Whether gathering blackberries, collecting jars, or earning badges, the journey to the big screen was as memorable as the stories it told.
Reel Memories: Childhood Adventures at the Lido Cinema and Beyond
As we reflect on the rich history and nostalgic allure of the Lido Cinema, it becomes clear that this beloved venue was more then just a place of entertainment for the children of Blackpool; it was a portal to adventure, a beacon of escapism in the midst of everyday life. For those who grew up in the working-class area, the lido represented a cultural and communal treasure, were the genuine magic of the silver screen mingled with the resilience and creativity of resourceful young minds.
Finbar Bevan’s vivid recollections serve as a poignant reminder of how the Lido cinema became/ushered those into another world. The serialized films they loved so dearly kept audiences enthralled, fostering anticipation over several weeks as they eagerly awaited the next installment. This communal experience, shared among friends, created lasting memories.
The narrative of the Lido extends beyond just its cinematic offerings. It reflects a time when community bonds were strong,and making do with less became an inherent part of their lives. The creative ways in which young people like Finbar earned their fourpence admission fee—collecting blackberries in the countryside and selling them for half a crown—testify to their ingenuity and determination.
Despite the unavoidable closure of the Lido in 1965,its legacy continues to resonate through stories like those shared by Finbar and Tom Foley,who not only highlight the cinema’s impact but also underscore its enduring place in local history and culture. Today, as CCAL continues to celebrate this milestone anniversary, it is indeed doing so with events that honour both the past and present, ensuring that the spirit of community and shared adventure at the Lido Cinema remains an integral part of Blackpool’s heritage.
the Lido Cinema stands as a testament to how cinema can transcend its role as mere entertainment, weaving itself into the very fabric of a community’s identity. Its stories remind us that, even in times of adversity, there is always a way to find wonder and excitement—a reminder for us today to cherish and honor those moments that shape our collective memories.
Conclusion: Reel Memories
As we delve into the nostalgic tales of childhood adventures at the Lido Cinema, it’s clear that the experience of watching films was not just about entertainment, but a gateway to a world of imagination and community. The Lido,which stood as a beacon of innovation and entertainment for over three decades,played a pivotal role in shaping the lives of its patrons,particularly in working-class areas like Blackpool.
for Finbar Bevan and his friends, the Lido was the epicenter of their week, where they would eagerly anticipate serialized films that kept them guessing for week after week. Despite the scarcity of resources, their ingenuity and determination were as essential as the films themselves, as they garnered entry through creative schemes like collecting blackberries, jam jars, and recyclable materials. These resourceful efforts not only underscored their resilience but also added a layer of adventure to the cinematic experience.
The Lido transcended mere walls and screens; it was a vibrant community hub where friendships were forged and imaginations ignited. It was a place where the likes of Finbar spent months following serials,each week meticulously planning how to earn enough fourpence to secure their next adventure. Tim Morley’s recollections of cork’s cinematic landscape further highlight the importance of these community-driven institutions, from the Coliseum to the Imperial, each offering unique experiences that bound generations together.
Beyond the silver screen,memories of cork’s cinema era are replete wiht tales of resourcefulness. Tim cagney’s collection of Urney Chocolate wrappers for Dantro Badges exemplifies the creative spirit and camaraderie that defined this era. These stories paint a vivid picture not just of a bygone era but also of the enduring power of community and shared experiences.
the memories of childhood adventures at the Lido Cinema remind us that film is more than just a form of entertainment—it is indeed a conduit for imagination, a symbol of community, and a testament to human ingenuity. as we reflect on these reel memories, we are reminded that the true magic of cinema lies not in the films themselves but in the countless stories and experiences that unfold both on and off the screen.