Today, only the Stag Theatre reminds us that Sevenoaks was once a thriving cinema town. Yet for much of the twentieth century, going “to the pictures” was one of the town’s favourite pastimes. Before television, streaming and even widespread radio ownership, thousands of local people escaped into the magic of the cinema each week.
At its peak, Sevenoaks had four cinemas serving a town that was much smaller than it is today. Each had its own character, loyal customers and stories, but all have now disappeared or found new lives.
Frank Robinson’s Vision
The story begins with local hotelier and councillor Frank Robinson, proprietor of the Royal Oak Hotel. Recognising the enormous potential of moving pictures, Robinson converted part of the former Smiths Brewery in the High Street into the Cinema Electric Theatre. Films were being shown there from 1910, marking the beginning of more than half a century of cinema on the site.

Over the following decades the town developed an impressive choice of picture houses. Alongside the Electric, which later became the Plaza and then the Granada, there was the Palace Cinema at Tubs Hill, the Majestic on London Road (later the Odeon and today’s Stag Theatre), and the Carlton on St John’s Hill.

By the late 1940s, a town the size of Sevenoaks could boast four cinemas, each serving its own neighbourhood and together offering an extraordinary variety of films and entertainment.

The Electric was among the earliest purpose-built cinemas in the district and reflected the extraordinary popularity of this new form of entertainment. It was run for four years by Herbert Lethebe, nephew of owner Cllr Frank Robinson. Herbert was also the captain of Sevenoaks football team. He died during the Great War in September 1918.

By the mid-1920s cinema technology and public expectations had moved on. The original building was remodelled in 1926 before being completely rebuilt in 1935. The impressive new cinema was officially opened by Lord Sackville and later became familiar to generations of Sevenoaks residents as the Plaza and eventually the Granada.
Following Frank Robinson’s death in 1929, the business remained in family hands under his son Richard.

Sadly, the building itself did not survive. It was demolished during the redevelopment that created Suffolk Way, leaving little physical trace of what had once been one of the town’s best-loved entertainment venues.
The Majestic becomes the Odeon
The town’s second great cinema story belongs to the Majestic on London Road.
Opened in 1936 with the film When Knights Were Bold, it represented the latest generation of cinema design. In 1943 it joined the expanding Odeon chain, becoming the Odeon Cinema that many local people still remember.
A remarkable photograph taken on VE Day in 1945 shows the cinema staff assembled outside beneath bunting and patriotic decorations celebrating the Allied victory.
Another surviving image captures the impressive entrance hall with its twin staircases leading to the café, circle and balcony—a reminder that a visit to the cinema was an occasion in itself.


The building survives today as the Stag Theatre, making it the only one of Sevenoaks’ historic cinema buildings still fulfilling its original purpose of entertaining audiences.
Life behind the projector
Some of the richest memories come from the men who worked behind the scenes.
In 1991, the Sevenoaks Chronicle reunited four veteran projectionists—Douglas Julyan, Tom Barnes, Don Knight and Dave Hodges—whose combined careers stretched back to the late 1930s and early 1940s.
Together they represented the last living link with Sevenoaks’ vanished cinemas.
All had started at the bottom as rewind boys, responsible for rewinding film reels after each showing, inspecting them for damage and carefully repairing any breaks before the next performance.
At the time there were three cinemas operating in Sevenoaks, offering as many as eighteen different films in a single week. As one projectionist recalled, you could quite literally go to the pictures every evening and see a different programme.
Don Knight began work at the Plaza in 1939.
“It was hard work,” he remembered. “All I did was rewind films and polish them off. I wasn’t allowed to touch the projectors for a while.”

Eventually opportunity came unexpectedly. When the chief projectionist was suddenly called away, Don found himself running an entire programme alone.
In fact, the chief projectionist was called away on purpose so that Don might show his skills.
He knew nothing of the ploy untl the following Monday when he was called in to see the Manager. “I was promoted to the Majestic.” said Don.
Dave Hodges was 15 years old when he began work as a re-wind boy at the Carlton Cinema on St John’s Hill, in 1941.
He worked his way up to the position of second projectionist before his call-up in 1946. The Carlton, which opened in 1935, closed twenty years later in 1954.
Douglas Julyan began working at the Plaza in 1941, earning just £2.10 a week at the age of fourteen.

Douglas Julyan, Tom Barnes and Dave Hodges
He remembered projection rooms filled with cigarette smoke.
“If there was a full house there was so much cigarette smoke it was like a fog,” he recalled. “The image projected on the screen appeared light brown.”
Despite the hard work, all four men spoke fondly of those years.
“There was a better atmosphere in those days,” Douglas reflected. “Films were made for entertainment, not commercialism.”
A different world
The cinemas themselves were very different places from those we know today.
The Plaza boasted a magnificent Compton organ which rose dramatically through the stage before performances. Local organist Vic Trivass regularly entertained audiences, while visiting performers appeared between films.
The cinema even had its own restaurant overlooking the High Street, staffed by waitresses, cooks and cashiers. Uniformed attendants in smart blue outfits with gold braid greeted customers as they arrived.
Performances ran continuously from lunchtime until around eleven o’clock at night.
Even during the Second World War the cinemas rarely closed. During air raids, red warning lights would illuminate the words “Air Raid”, while a flashing green light signalled that the all-clear had been given. Remarkably, many filmgoers preferred to remain in their seats rather than leave the building.
Sevenoaks’ changing cinema audience

By the late 1970s, cinema-going had changed considerably. The former Majestic—by then the Odeon and later Focus Cinemas—was competing not only with television, but with changing lifestyles and audiences. Yet the cinema remained an important part of the town’s social life.
The cinema’s manager, John Watson, observed that Sevenoaks had become “a very mixed community”, describing a distinction between the more affluent “executive” and “county” residents living “at the top of the hill” and other residents at the bottom. Reflecting on who actually came through the cinema doors each week, he concluded that “we draw the greater majority of our patronage from the ‘others’ half of the Sevenoaks populace.”
His weekly reports also reveal that Sevenoaks was very much regarded as a family town. Disney films and school holiday programmes consistently attracted the largest audiences, while staff organised children’s competitions, worked closely with the Sevenoaks Chronicle and even staged a local Star Wars painting competition to encourage families into the cinema. It was a reminder that the cinema remained far more than simply somewhere to watch a film—it was still a focal point of community life.

The building would later become the Ace Cinema before being saved as The Stag Theatre, which has placed itself at the heart of the community, embodying many of the values described by the old projectionists. For decades, the cinemas of Sevenoaks were places where neighbours met, friendships were formed and generations of local people shared memorable experiences together.
Remembering Sevenoaks’ cinemas
Today, most traces of Sevenoaks’ lost cinemas have disappeared beneath modern development or altered beyond recognition.
Yet photographs, postcards and the memories of those who worked there remind us how important they once were—not simply as places to watch films, but as social centres where first dates began, families spent evenings together, children marvelled at Hollywood adventures and communities gathered during wartime and peace alike.
Like so much of Sevenoaks’ history, these buildings have vanished, but their stories survive through the memories of local people.
If you remember any of Sevenoaks’ cinemas, or have photographs, tickets, programmes or family stories to share, I’d love to hear from you. Every memory helps preserve another small piece of our town’s history.
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Sources and Further Reading
This article has been compiled from a range of contemporary newspapers, postcards, photographs, local directories and published sources, including:
- Matthew Ball, Sevenoaks, Riverhead & Seal in Old Photos and Postcards (2023).
- Sevenoaks Chronicle (various editions, including interviews with former projectionists, 1991).
- David Killingray & Elizabeth Purves, Sevenoaks: An Historical Dictionary (2012).
- John C. Watson, A Case Study of Cinema Management: The Focus Cinema, Sevenoaks (University dissertation, 1979).
- The Stag Sevenoaks – History of the Theatre: https://stagsevenoaks.co.uk/history/
- Personal postcard and photograph collection.
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