Very much love...

Today - October 14th - I deactivated my X/Twitter account for Voyageuse. It's exactly 11 years ago on this day I decided to make the film, after receiving a cursory two-line rejection email from Creative Scotland - a long and sorry story - I was and am ineligible for Screen Scotland funding - apparently I don't meet their criteria. It was the first and only time I submitted an application. When I asked for feedback as to why my project was rejected, their response: "we have other, higher priority projects" was a perfect summation of what I already knew.

That I made the film with zero funding remains an achievement. By summoning my inner Imp - I was an Imp in the Brownies long ago - I spent three years writing, designing, shooting, editing, grading and creating a sound design by applying what Robert Bresson described as "he who can work with the minimum can work with the most." It's a mantra I live by. My next three planned projects - God willing - will adopt the same model, if more nuanced and refined - using CGI, live action and life's little accidents, the serendipitous events that occur in real life that can change the course of a story, of a life.

Since June-July I've had the privilege of watching films and voting as a member of the British Independent Film Awards (BIFA) sub-group for the Raindance Maverick category, formally the Discovery Award which against all expectations Voyageuse won in 2018. This year our category included 54 films, the highest number ever, a mix of public and broadcast funded films, those privately financed on crazy-high sums and at the bottom of the heap, the plucky low-no budget films, generally made on low five figures.

BIFA's criteria for the Maverick Award require works of originality that take risks and are made on budgets of less than £1 million, hardly a Maverick sum from my standpoint but still super cheap. One of my fellow voters has made a hobby out of calculating the average budget for these films and arrived at a figure £300K or so - each. I marvelled at this, since so many of these films are documentaries - a naturally low-budget format. I marvel too that these films, many editorially flawed, aesthetically televisual rather than cinematic or in myriad ways larping as Maverick films to hedge their bets against other, more appropriate categories.

Another notable trend this year is the locked room drama where a group of people, or a lone person find themselves confined in an enclosed space where they have to enact an implausible plot. These are mostly effortful affairs but are ultimately dull. My heart goes out to the casts of these films, desperate to buoy up the maker's intentions.

BIFA's confidentiality rules prevent me from disclosing the Maverick longlist which will be announced in early November, but it's an interesting group of films. I disagreed with roughly a third of it, but I'm very pleased at most of the sub-group's decisions. I'm aware too, with 54 films to discuss over 3 meetings, not enough time was given to them so I'll be asking BIFA to change the rules to exclude those films that hedge, that dump their films in the Maverick category as a 'just in case we don't make it' into the other categories. It only seems fair.

There's something about deactivating a X/Twitter account that feels like a loss. It's a first for me - a little like a death in the family but not THAT serious. Still, after 11 years, the making, the attempts - so often futile - to get it screened, just living with the film, I need to let go, not least for practical reasons - I don't really do social media and Elemental can't justify using different domains for each project, so now Owen is folding them into the one place and managing them from that place. Seems sensible. Besides, I need to move on.

So today I hope my message on X/Twitter reaches my followers. I appreciate every comment left by anyone who watched the film - it really means the world to me. I downloaded my archive from X/Twitter so at least I've got that to look back on when I need cheering up.

The above image is of Erica's handwriting - a rare thing to see these days. When was the last time any of us wrote something by hand? When I was nine, I found a book in my local library about graphology and was instantly hooked - over the decades I became an expert in handwriting analysis and to this day I'm able to tell a person's character, psychological strengths and weaknesses, their state of health from their handwriting, Our handwritten script is as unique as our fingerprints. When was the last time any of us wrote more than a greetings card?

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The Alpha Zone...

My husband caught me tapping on my laptop the other night. He asked what I was writing. “A blog post,” I replied, so he said, “Then write something self-affirming, something uplifting.” It doesn’t come easily. It’s over a year since I last posted on this site but on each attempt the words refused to be positive, so I lost heart and pressed delete instead.

On an overcast Friday in early February I’m writing this in my shed. Only I’m not. I’m staring at a set of colour-coded index cards on the wall, each card representing a scene for my ongoing project, Tilo in Real Life. On a shelf, alongside other props, sit three small electrical appliances purchased from eBay who appear as characters in the film, but right now they act as my conscience, taunting me to get back to work. This year, I tell them, this year.

~ continue...

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The Exclusion Zone...

Like anyone with a stake in the culture game I've heard the plea; Who will think of the poor _____? (fill the blanks yourselves). On social media that plea is loudest among the theatre lobby, followed by live music - and rightly so. Seven months into Covid-19 those who believe the arts are a luxury are waking up to the fact that while bread might keep you alive, circuses are an incentive to not kill yourself.

Curiously silent on the matter of its imminent demise is the film/TV sector which arguably has done more than most to keep the population a) at home and b) sane. However the people who make film and TV are mostly freelancers in an already precarious field and unfairly excluded from the UK Government's furlough scheme.

~ continue...

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Invisible...

As the days grow shorter and colder I'm glad to be back in Glasgow after my travels with Voyageuse. Glad too because I'm able to focus on my latest project, Tilo in Real Life, which after months of thinking, writing, re-writing and testing I'm confident can work as a film, or at least a film I'm able (and want) to make within my meagre resource. How do I know this? I don't, but I trust my instincts more than I trust my government.

Chances are you're reading this via a link on social media which these days is essential for any independent filmmaker even though it's hard to be heard above the noise of all the other filmmakers, writers and artists plying their wares.

Here I marvel at the chutzpah of my peers and the apparent ease with which they promote themselves, their goals and achievements, from winning awards to shaking down followers on crowdfunding campaigns. If only I had the nerve, I tell myself, to make bolder claims for my work.

~ continue...

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