Unlike joining the staff at a local shop, where new assistants tend to pick it up as they go along, the workings at any Odeon cinema could not be passed along by the manager, who would be too busy running the show to teach a new assistant manager what’s what.
Within a week of starting at Romford Odeon I was informed that I would be going up to Birmingham for a six-week induction course.
In a way it would be like going back to school – again!
In 1965 I had left Rhyl Grammar School and started to work part-time on a local newspaper (NOT the Journal) and the following year I had signed up for a year at the local technical college.
On completing a course which involved office practice, commerce, typing, shorthand, and various other useful subjects which I did not think I would be using ever again, I started serious work as a journalist.
Two years later I was back in class, this time at a college in Cardiff, on a block release course, in preparation for taking the exam for the NCTJ National Proficiency Certificate. The course was eight weeks fir the first year and a further eight weeks for the second year before taking the exam.
This time it was for a six-week course in \Birmingham where I would be put up in a good hotel and had a travel warrant each weekend to return home, although a couple of them were for mid-week to compensate for having to work a couple of weekend shifts.
Having only just finished an enforced separation from my darling Muse and the girls I would be away again for six weeks. On the other hand I would be at home two days a week.
Throughout my childhood and teen years, and into the the 70s, I had been aware of the local Odeon cinemas being a very well-run, smart business. On that six-week course I found out why.
Every minute of every day was crammed full of instructions on working out payroll figures; sorting out time schedules for a performance, which even then could include more than one film; ensuring money from the box office matched the tickets issue; checking stock of confectionery against sales from the confectionery; drawing up the weekly rota for staff; keeping an eye on the cleaners to ensure the foyer was gleaming when we opened for the day, and that, under auditorium lighting, the public seating area was clean and smelt fresh.
To ensure that all new assistant managers, who intended to manage their own cinemas, could understand the complete workings of an Odeon we were put through the paces at one of the Birmingham Odeons, carrying out all tasks, from usher to ice-cream sales, box office assistant to serving hot dogs and selling popcorn and other confectionery.
This wasn’t just to let us know what each member of staff did. It was also to make sure we could identify any attempt by staff to cream a bit off the top for themselves.
By the time we finished the course we were expected to be able to identify the slightest hint of an attempt to “fiddle the books”. In fact they were continually training would-be managers who would know the best ways to do a bit of fiddling for themseleves.
I do not believe every single manager fiddled the books.
I got to know many of them during my two years with Rank and the vast majority were decent, honest men and women. I said men and women because I didn’t want to sound mysoginistic, but I never actually met a female manager in those two years, only female local assistant managers.
After six weeks away from my work base I was keen on letting Tony, my boss, know that I was bang up-to-date on operating procedures.
All he said was: “You’ll soon learn how things really work.”
Next time: Into the fray.
Robin's Nest 