The former Allenby Theatre at 1213 Danforth Avenue.

Customers in line at the recently opened Tim Hortons located in the gutted interior of the former Allenby Theatre [PDF] would be hard-pressed to imagine that for a time, the site was the Toronto epicentre of a North American movie craze. This occurred back in the mid-1970s, when the Allenby was known as the Roxy, the fetishistically bizarre Rocky Horror Picture Show was screening to capacity crowds in full costume, and Tim Hortons, with franchises numbering less than a hundred, was nothing more than a donut shop lightweight. From a film fetish to a coffee fetish, the recent Allenby Theatre–Tim Hortons transformation reflects the changing face of a community.

For the most part, all that remains of the original Allenby Theatre at 1213 Danforth Avenue are the interior and exterior lobbies and the building’s facade. Everything, including most of the original marquee, the ticket booth, the seven-hundred-seat auditorium, the projectionist’s cubbyhole, and the entire second floor, which included an apartment, has been razed.
Tim Hortons shares the site with an On The Run convenience store and Esso gas bar. Since 2006, the architectural firm ERA has been overseeing the restoration and adaptive reuse of the structure. The work itself is being carried out by Heritage Restoration Inc. This detailed undertaking has seen the re-establishment of a gas station to the west of the former theatre, as well as the demolition of the structure immediately east of the cinema.
More than three-fourths of movie houses constructed in Canada between 1919 and 1950 were designed by the architectural firm Kaplan and Sprachman. Many neighbourhood theatres constructed during the Depression were completed in haste, with emphasis placed on the bottom line rather than quality workmanship. This included the Allenby, which opened in 1935, and which ERA staff discovered—upon giving the building a thorough once-over before commencing the refurbishing project—was poorly constructed.


Originally independently owned, in time, the Allenby became part of the Allied Group of theatres. Like most neighbourhood theatres, it was a gathering place for the community. In addition to screening second-run films, residents in the Greenwood-Danforth neighbourhood visited the theatre to view newsreels and serials. The Allenby also served as a centre for worship. Twice on Sundays, a bespectacled intellect sporting a bowtie named R.E. Metcalfe hosted a Sunday bible lecture series called Prophecy Speaks. Topics ranged from “Peace or Pieces—Will atomic destruction be the fate of civilization?” to “Will the Jews return to Palestine?”
In 1970, Mike Andrikopoulos, current owner of the Danforth Music Hall, purchased the Allenby. By this time, neighbourhood theatres had hit their zenith. For a brief time, before renaming it the Roxy, the theatre was known as the Apollo, specializing in the screening of Greek films. Soon after, the Roxy became a repertory theatre, charging 99¢ admission.
During the mid-70s, the Roxy gained a reputation for its technical accoutrements. Beginning in 1976 when Jon Lidolt was hired to run the Roxy, the theatre experienced a renaissance. Realizing the Roxy’s potential, Lidolt undertook a complete redo of the building. Well versed in the technological advancements of the day, Lidolt convinced the owner to install a first-rate sound system. The theatre was one of the first cinemas in Canada to boast an optical Dolby Stereo sound system. In order to project films in their correct screen ratio, a forty-foot screen was installed.
Though the theatre and sound system had been spruced up, it was what Lidolt’s projectionist put onto the screen that proved to have the most significant impact on the cultural zeitgeist of the time.
Lidolt first conceived the idea of screening The Rocky Horror Picture Show, unaware of its burgeoning cult status and its accompanying theatrics.
Initially, Lidolt noted a handful of patrons attending the film arriving in costume. That was when Lidolt struck on a genius idea. He suggested staff dress up as characters from the film as well. At first, staff were reluctant. Soon, however, with patrons dancing in the aisles to the “Time Warp,” staff, now blending in with moviegoers, were able to keep an eye on the exuberant crowd.
The Roxy was in the vanguard of the Rocky Horror Picture Show cult frenzy that swept the continent.
The other culturally significant film screened at the Roxy during this time was Led Zeppelin’s 1976 release, The Song Remains The Same. On evenings of the Zeppelin screening, a different crowd entirely filled the auditorium. No Dr. Frank-N-Furter corsets or rice, toast, and water guns here. These evenings, things mellowed. When Jimmy Page played a blistering solo during the Led Zeppelin anthem “Stairway To Heaven” on his red, double-necked Gibson electric guitar, the marijuana smoke wafting through the theatre was so dense patrons caught a buzz off fumes alone.
Eventually, the Rocky Horror Picture Show craze (mostly) ended. The theatre’s best days were now firmly in the past. Andrikopoulos sold the Roxy in 1987. New owners made a failed attempt to convert the building into a reception and dance hall. Earlier this decade, the theatre was closed and boarded up permanently.
Likely, if the theatre’s façade had not been designated historically significant by the city and listed on the inventory of heritage properties in 1985, the entire structure would have been razed.
According to Chris Huntley at Heritage Restoration Inc., the façade’s finishing touches should be complete by November 15. In recognition of the building’s past, Heritage Toronto will install a plaque on the property.
Photos by Harry Choi/Torontoist

Illustration by Kyra Kendall/Torontoist.

When James Frey’s A Million Little Pieces first hit bookstands, readers were led to believe that what Frey had written was “the truth.” And why should they think such a thing? Because the book’s dust-jacket told them so. Marketed as a memoir, A Million Little Pieces climbed to the top of the New York Times’s bestseller list, and Frey found his name, and his book, being bandied about in book clubs—including Oprah’s—all over the continent. But Frey’s credibility dissolved overnight; the Smoking Gun had investigated the author’s narrative claims, and found that portions of A Million Little Pieces had been fabricated. A tweak here, an embellishment there—and Frey was suddenly surrounded by a bunch of angry, angry readers (again, including Oprah).
Last week, the Globe and Mail informed us that Tim Hortons had kind of, sort of, pulled a James Frey (our exaggerated words, not theirs). Tim Hortons, via a seemingly innocuous one-liner—“Based on a true story”—told us that the tear-jerking scene featured in one of their commercials was “true.” Or, rather, that it was based on truth. As Globe reporter Dakshana Bascaramurty relayed, a spokesperson for Canada’s beloved “Timmys” said the commercial in question represented an “amalgamation of stories.”

Decades before Frey started “amalgamating” his stories, and long before we started believing that a doughnut shop was inextricably tied to our national identity, a handful of American journalists began toying with the boundaries of truth in their own narratives. Tired of the stiff, lifeless prose of their predecessors, writers like Hunter S. Thompson, Tom Wolfe, and Joan Didion began experimenting with unorthodox storytelling techniques. A favourite among these techniques was the use, or creation, of a “composite character.” That is, an amalgamated character. The rationale went something like this: if the general message you were trying to convey was, essentially, true, then maybe—just maybe—a few liberties could be taken with certain narrative details. After all, truth is subjective—right?
What happens to “truth” when you superimpose one story on top of another? When you combine one individual’s personality traits with those of an entirely different human being? In the case of A Million Little Pieces, the general consensus was that Frey had taken too many liberties; he had juxtaposed too many stretched truths to rightfully call his work “non-fiction.” Norman Mailer, Truman Capote, Gay Talese, and, of course, Hunter S. Thompson and Tom Wolfe managed—successfully—to walk that grey line between factual reporting, and fictional storytelling. Their stories, however finessed, were still deemed “true.”

So how have Timmys’ truths stood the test of the Globe and Mail’s online commenters? “In this particular case, ‘based on a true story’ is an outright lie,” wrote “Raging Squirrel,” responding to Bascaramurty’s article. “prof116,” though, was of a different opinion: “Much ado about nothing. I love Tim’s coffee and love this commercial too, even if it might be a bit sappy.” Another commenter, “Double D’s” asked: “Do we not have laws for false advertising in this country?” Of the two-hundred-and-sixty-odd comments this article inspired, Double D’s’ question seemed the most sensible; the last time we checked, there were certain regulations in place that prevented advertisers—and their clients—from making false claims.
Janet Feasby, vice president of Standards at Advertising Standards Canada, wasn’t able to comment on the specifics of the Tim Hortons ad in question. She was, however, able direct us to clause 1 of the Canadian Code of Advertising Standards. Herein, under the sub-heading of “Accuracy and Clarity,” we found the following statement:

(a) Advertisements must not contain inaccurate or deceptive claims, statements, illustrations or representations, either direct or implied, with regard to a product or service. In assessing the truthfulness and accuracy of a message, the concern is not with the intent of the sender or precise legality of the presentation. Rather, the focus is on the message as received or perceived, i.e. the general impression conveyed by the advertisement.

Of course, of course, of course; this clause’s scope is limited to “a product or service”—and neglects to mention “narrative” or “storyline.” True, there is another clause for “Testimonials,” but “testimonial” doesn’t really fit our ad’s description. In other words, in the eyes of Ad Standards Canada (or, at the very least, according to their code of ethics), Tim Hortons hasn’t really done anything wrong: we, as consumers, have not been misled about Tim Hortons’ “products” or “services.”
Clause or no clause, though: there’s no denying that Tim Hortons’ liberal use of the line “Based on a true story” has caused a certain amount of discomfort with consumers. So why include this one-liner in the first place? Why not let the ad, or the ad’s story, speak for itself? For the same reason Frey (or is that Frey’s publisher?) marketed A Million Little Pieces as a work of nonfiction: there is no word more powerful, more poignant, and perhaps more deceiving in the various worlds of storytelling, than “true.”

Photo by smlgphotos from the Torontoist Flickr Pool.

It must have been a hard day for David Morelli.
The director of public relations for Tim Hortons certainly had his hands full yesterday as he was inundated with calls from activists and news organizations (including Torontoist) demanding to know where Tim Hortons stood on marriage equality. Did the Canadian doughnut super-giant really align itself with the National Organization for Marriage to sponsor an anti–gay marriage event in Rhode Island? Could the great purveyor of Timbits and French vanilla cappuccinos really be so resentful of Canadian same-sex marriage that they were joining the battle against equal marriage south of the border? Timmy, could it be true?

The uproar began after Paul Auger, a Rhode Island resident, noticed Tim Hortons listed as a sponsor for the National Organization for Marriage’s Celebrate Marriage and Family Day, scheduled for August 16. The event, which is scheduled to take place under the backdrop of the majestic Aldrich Mansion, is touted as “a great opportunity to take a stand for marriage as it was created: between a man and a woman. [Their] goal is to esteem marriage to its proper place in society and make a statement that Rhode Islanders believe strongly in this cherished institution.”
Auger then tipped off Wesli Dymoke at the Providence Daily Dose, who vented:

Yes, Tim Hortons. The Dunkin Donuts of Canada. You know, Canada—where same-sex marriage has been legal nationwide since 2005 (and since 2003 in Tim’s home, Ontario). What in the world are they doing sponsoring something like this? Their site says that they support “local initiatives that make a difference”—such as little leagues, Halloween safety, and the like. And that they sponsor community initiatives with a focus on “helping children and supporting fundraising events for non-profit organizations and registered charities.” But not “those representing religious groups [or] political affiliates,” such as, well, how would you characterize a group like NOM?

The National Organization for Marriage was “founded in 2007 in response to the growing need for an organized opposition to same-sex marriage in state legislatures. NOM serves as a national resource for marriage-related initiatives at the state and local level.” The organization skyrocketed into the public consciousness after its defence of beauty queen Carrie Prejean—the former Miss California who was stripped of her crown after she infamously claimed she only believed in opposite heterosexual marriage.

Many were surprised that Tim Hortons would appear as a corporate sponsor for the anti–gay marriage event.

Calls to petition and boycott Tim Hortons quickly followed as the company scrambled to respond. While the corporate website notes that “many Tim Hortons store owners are involved in their community and are proud to support a variety of programs and events on both a local and regional level,” it is also true that “nearly 95% of Tim Hortons locations are owned and operated by independent business people, so the final decision to make a donation is at the discretion of the store owner.”
Ultimately, by the afternoon, Tim Hortons rescinded its sponsorship agreement with a statement:

Recently, Tim Hortons was approached in Rhode Island to provide free coffee and products for a local event, as we do thousands of times a year across Canada and the United States.
For 45 years, Tim Hortons and its storeowners have practiced a philosophy of giving back to the communities in which we operate. As a company, our primary focus is on helping children and supporting fundraising events for non-profit organizations and registered charities. For this reason, Tim Hortons has not sponsored those representing religious groups, political affiliates or lobby groups.
It has come to our attention that the Rhode Island event organizer and purpose of the event fall outside of our sponsorship guidelines. As such, Tim Hortons can not provide support at the event.

Done deal, right? Good for Tim Hortons for clearing things up. You have to wonder though, how did Tims get in this position in the first place?
Christopher Plante, NOM’s executive director, seemed shocked at the interest in this story from Canada and told Torontoist that “an advisory board member dealt directly with the Tim Hortons branch in Rhode Island.” He also made a point to mention how “the event is open to the public with no prerequisite or pre-screening” and that [they were] “not a religious organization.”
Uh-huh. Something tells us that gays and lesbians still won’t be welcome.
Most notable about this story was the warp speed at which the blogosphere organized, rallied, and responded to the news. Through electronic grassroots campaigning, they forced a major multi-national company to scramble to enact damage control on a controversial decision mostly likely made by a rogue franchisee.
However, for Tims, it makes you wonder how successful their American expansion has been. While Tim Hortons recently received some good news with a quarterly sales up-tick, the expansion has not been without its bumps. One wonders what the fallout will be for their Rhode Island chapters, which currently operate forty-six out of the more than five hundred Tim Hortons restaurants in the United States. Something tells us this is not the publicity they need.
Ultimately, this is a victory for American LGBT bloggers and organizations who are fighting for their right to marry. It’s clear, after losing Proposition 8 this year, that they are eager and ready to mobilize.

Photo by Darren Tse from the Torontoist Flickr Pool.

Canadians are an odd people when it comes to our cultural exports—we apologize to the world for Celine Dion, are ecstatic about the BlackBerry, and we’re defensive about Tim Hortons. So it’s with a sense of cautious pride that we watched Tim Hortons open nine of twelve new locations in New York City yesterday, including three in a co-branding test with Cold Stone Creamery, because we Canadians know our Maple Dip.

Even though (in our opinion) the quality of Tim Hortons doughnuts has slipped since 2002, when the company began mass-producing the doughnuts in a Brantford plant rather than on-site in each restaurant, the chain has become enshrined in Canadian iconography, boasting almost three thousand stores in Canada and becoming the country’s largest food service operator. Much of the Tim Hortons success story can even be attributed to one of the most brilliant marketing campaigns in history: the thirteen-year-long “Roll Up The Rim To Win” promotion.
Though already operating about five hundred stores in eleven American states, Manhattan has always been the stronghold of another number-one baked goods chain: Dunkin’ Donuts. With relations fouling in recent years between the Riese Organization investment group and Dunkin’ Brands Inc., Tim Hortons found itself inking a deal with Riese to replace ten Dunkin’ Donuts franchises in Manhattan and two in Brooklyn, including in high-profile locations in Times Square, Penn Station, and right beside the New York Stock Exchange.

Photo by swilton from the Torontoist Flickr Pool.

And New York City is a tough market for olykoeks: following a high-profile national overexpansion and stiff competition from Dunkin’ Donuts, many Krispy Kreme Manhattan franchises were terminated (in Canada, only eighteen of thirty-two stores were opened, and only five of those still exist).
The move follows steps taken by Tim Hortons last month to reorganize itself as a Canadian company again (primarily for tax reasons). Established on a Hamilton street corner in 1964 by the former Toronto Maple Leaf, who would die in a car crash ten years later, the eponymous company was merged with Wendy’s International in 1995. It received an apostrophectomy around the same time to accommodate Quebec language laws and was spun off entirely to shareholders by 2006, remaining registered in corporate haven Delaware.
The pilot project with Cold Stone Creamery—whose schtick is to fold ice cream concoctions together on a frozen slab in front of customers—will also allow new marketing opportunities, such as “muffin bowls,” where the top of the muffin is removed and turned upside down to hold the ice cream.
According to news reports, initial interest in the Timvasion was strong, with the New York Daily News calling it “the caloric colossus from Canada” and NBC’s Today ominously announcing that the chain is “looking to caffeinate the word.” However, with Americans used to the bitter coffee of Starbucks and the familiar pink-and-orange of the Dunkin’ Donuts brand, reactions from the customers were mixed.
“I’m a cop,” said one man to the Daily News. “Take away Dunkin’ Donuts and what’s my stereotype going to be?”
“They better not do this in Queens or Long Island,” threatened a territorial Manhattanite to the New York Times.
Still, in an informal Daily News taste test, Tim Hortons fared better than Dunkin’ Donuts with customers by a better-than 6–5 margin. A New York Times comparison concluded that both products were virtually indistinguishable, lamenting how “mass-produced doughnuts are achieving total global mediocrity.”
Our pals at Gothamist were much more complimentary, and one reader said he was “in heaven” with his six-dollar lunch, but complained that he “stood in line as an annoying Canadian stockbroker waxed rhapsodic about how the stock is a buy.”
The Riese Organization—which also operates KFC, Pizza Hut, and T.G.I. Friday’s franchises in New York—says that the product in these stores will be baked on-site instead of at a central commissary, so that should be a plus toward the brand’s “Always Fresh” promise. It’s too early to tell if the restaurants will provide a different enough experience to attract and maintain New York City customers, but in the meantime, we predict the shops will be a perfect place to interact with other Canadian tourists looking for a taste of home.