SDC Logo Purple and White RGB

presents

Paignton Picture House

 -Digital Stories-

 -Digital Stories-

presented by Digital Media Students of

SDC Logo Purple and Black RGB

Fictional Narratives

Digital Stories

The rich history and iconic locations of Torbay, including the Paignton Picture House, serve as powerful backdrops for creative storytelling. In this section, we explore how these culturally significant places can inspire new fictional narratives, sparking the imagination of writers and artists alike. By weaving tales that blend history with creativity, we aim to breathe new life into these landmarks, offering fresh perspectives on familiar places and creating stories that resonate with both local and broader audiences.

performed by Olivia

South devon high school student

In Paignton’s heart, where shadows cast, The Picture House, a relic vast. Its walls have whispered countless tales, Of love and loss, of wins and fails. 

The last projectionist, with solemn grace, Stands silent in this hallowed space. His hands, now aged, once deft and quick, Have spun the reels and turned the click. 

Tonight he walks the aisle slow, With memories of the silver glow. A century’s end, a final show, Where dreams once danced, now shadows grow. 

He threads the final reel with care, A bittersweet and tender fare. The hum of wheels, a soft goodbye, As images float, then fade, and die. 

The credits roll, the screen goes black, He feels the weight of years come back. With heavy heart and gentle hand, He shuts the booth, he takes his stand. 

One final glance, the lights now dim, He breathes the silence, filled to brim. The projectors still, the room now cold, A silent witness to stories told. 

The switch he flips, the lights go out, The end of dreams, the end of doubt. The Paignton Picture House, now still, No more to climb the dreamscape hill. 

In ’99, he locks the door, The final chapter, nothing more. A sigh escapes, a tear does gleam, Goodbye to reels, goodbye to dream. 

Yet in his heart, the films remain, A testament to joy and pain. The last projectionist steps away, From shadows cast to light of day. 

For though the screen is dark and bare, The magic lingers in the air. In Paignton’s heart, where dreams were spun, The last light fades, but not the sun. 

performed by Brooke

South devon high school student

In Torquay town where waves caress the shore, 
A girl was born who’d pen tales evermore. 
Agatha Christie, with a mind so keen, 
Crafted mysteries, the finest ever seen. 

In 1914, Paignton Picture House began, 
A cinema grand, a Devonshire plan. 
Young Agatha, with a heart full of dreams, 
Found inspiration in the silver screen’s gleam. 

She’d sit entranced by flickers of light, 
Stories unfolding in the darkened night.
The Picture House, a retreat, a muse, 
Where fiction and film did seamlessly fuse. 

Married that year, to Archibald her knight, 
They’d visit the cinema, hearts alight. 
In its velvet seats, side by side they’d share, 
A love for stories, both thrilling and rare. 

The cinema’s charm, its century-old tale, 
Withstood the years, though time made it frail. 
Now being restored, to glory it aims, 
A beacon of history, and Christie’s famed names. 

Agatha’s legacy, in books and in screen, 
Lives on through places where she once had been. 
Paignton Picture House, in history enshrined, 
A tribute to the mysteries born of her mind.