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Going to Film School in Ealing Studios is a very exciting prospect at first, you feel as if you will be jumping right into the heart of the film industry.
In reality, the routine of the everyday quickly diminishes this excitement. To be honest I just feel I am going to school and no longer notice the huge sound stage doors as I walk to class. I have already become blasé!

The school is a school - you go to class, you sit in seminar discussions and you get to go out and make films...OK that last bit is not much like other schools.
At break we all mill around the main entrance for a cigarette. I don't smoke so I mill around looking like a bit of a dick, nevertheless I cleverly substitute my lack of tobacco dependance with tasty snacks- which means I now behave much as a smoker who had just given up smoking would - that is, substituting my nicotine cravings with food. I am putting on weight as a result, but alas, this is what I must do to fit in.

So far everything has been a bit of a blur, going to class again after so long is STRANGE. I am older now, I don't want to do shots in the pub at 5.00pm. Indeed, I realized just how much I had changed when confronted today with the prospect of shots and delivering a knee-jerk response: "you must be joking, at this hour? I haven't yet had tea"

OK, so I'm old and boring. That's one thing I've learned this week (but I secretly knew it already). Another novelty of starting school has been using my brain again. Let's be honest, anyone who used to work with me will know that once I knew I was leaving, my brain switched into standby/repeat for my final six months in the office. I leave school every day literally unable to talk to anyone, I flee to a quiet corner of Starbucks and nurse my shell shock with caffeinated drinks.

Another thing about going back to school is all the new people. They are everywhere and from everywhere. I love the diversity of the school, it brings all different perspectives to film making - we write short story scenarios in class and the diverse imaginative workings are really interesting...what is also amazing are the real life stories we have that we can all use and draw from.

That's it for now. MUST. SLEEP.

FILM SCHOOL!

DAY ONE

After long introductory speeches by the end of which you only hear the groans and yawns of a desperate audience, we were catapulted into the basics of film making.

"Go and make a film" they told us, having shown us how to assemble a camera, met only with expressions of confusion or horror among the class, I'm not sure which...

Given ten minutes to doodle a storyboard, we split into teams with the hope of deciphering our primitive stick-men and making something amazing. Camera carefully assembled, actors in place, it was time for action.

Surreal is not the word, so suddenly are you plunged into the world of film making and all the quirks and problems it produces. But after twenty five minutes I had made 'something'.

With trepidation I went, memory cards in hand, to the editing suite to see what on earth I had produced. After a crash course in editing (the collective expression of confusion and horror was again ever present) we made our films.

And then to bed.

nearly the end...

My final months at my previous job were marked by days of tortuous expectation, pencil constantly poised to gauge my eyes from their sockets at any moment.

I am sure you can picture well my grief-stricken state when the day of departure finally came, alas I battled on and after at least ten minutes, my grief was assuaged and replaced with expectant joy as I looked ahead to film school! at last!

Your Only Weapon is Your Work

Following on from yesterday's blog post, I came across these wise words of advice from a letter written by John Steinbeck to fellow writer and friend Dennis Murphy.

Your Only Weapon Is Your Work

"You have a harder fight now than you’ve ever had. It is tough to battle opposition and disapproval but that’s easy compared to the subtle attack of approval and flattery. There’s nothing so nice as a compliment and if it can be true it’s even nicer but also there is nothing more weakening. You’ve done well against failure. Now let’s see how you defend yourself against success. Your only weapon is your work. Take everything you can but keep your work pure and innocent and fierce.

After you have finished let them have it, but while you are doing it for God’s sake, keep your holy loneliness."

A Personal Journey for Sharing

I sometimes wonder if the content of this blog is an acting substitute for a personal diary...all this gunk of ideas continuously spews and needs to be released somehow, it just so happens that it's released in a public space.

But in this line of work, there is an ever-present feeling of vulnerability. If I am making a film it involves the collaboration of others to share my ideas and in turn help to make a vision real. If I am writing a script (as I am currently doing for my Screenwriting class) it involves sharing with the rest of the class what I have written and sometimes the reason for my motives.

Writing and making films isn't something I do just to keep myself amused, it is an outlet for a large volume of ideas that need to be expressed and interpreted lest they fester in frustration. It is therefore natural that my projects come from a very personal place, and it can be daunting to make that leap and put it out there in public, open to scrutiny and inevitably criticism.

It can go both ways though, if you make a conscious leap of faith to share your work, you think to yourself "I don't know what peoples' reaction will be" -the butterflies in the stomach begin to stir. Most people begin by sharing their projects with close family, friends or tutors. In my experience, I have received nothing but supportive comments from great friends that realise how hard it can be to 'show yourself' in this way, and know that a positive comment, no matter how humble, can be like a rocket lifting your self esteem and incentivising you to go further.

A lot of the above says more about the kind nature of my friends than the quality of my work. In actual fact, I believe that criticism when given constructively can be more motivational than anything else. It is possible to get stuck in your vision sometimes -'writer's block' can apply to anyone who is moulding a concrete, physical piece from an abstract idea. It is then that you realise that you need other people, you need their buzz, their ideas and their energy to reinvigorate you and your projects - this includes criticism, praise, whatever it may be that helps you achieve your vision.

So in reflection, I come back to the opening statement of the post - about this blog serving sometimes as a personal diary, and in pondering this I am asking myself if it is appropriate to share these thoughts somewhere like this. I feel very much that it is, because often I write down these thoughts without having spoken to anyone else about them. Not only is it a way to unburden myself, but to reach out to others who are working in similar fields, and ask if this is the experience they have, and whether they have anything to add. After all, you can't do it completely by yourself...can you?

Day One

Most children will have been taught by their parents when growing up that they should never play on stairs, indeed most children should then grow up to possess at least a shred of common sense. Not me. I spent a good part of this Saturday afternoon balanced precariously on the landing of my Victorian staircase all in the good name of film making. Result? about 30 seconds of me staring blankly at a camera lens. This is exactly what I wanted to achieve, but it was only after having disassembled most of the living room furniture and broken the clothes horse that I realised hanging off a staircase was the best way to achieve my 'blank stare'. Perhaps I should explain...

I wanted to create a stark black and white picture - severe frame - severe haircut - severe expression. I intended to look a cross between a nazi camp guard and a loony science geek. I think I achieved the effect quite well...the character is a boy who suffers from Obsessive Compulsive behaviour, he is repressed and not doing what he wants to do. Living an inauthentic existence means that he is bound for failure and the more he fails, the more he must tighten his grip and regain control - hence the OCD. So I had to make sure I was firmly in the middle of the frame for preliminary photography, and because I had the misfortune of being alone whilst doing this, I had to rely on resourcefulness to achieve the effect - to the stairwell I went!

I'll upload some stills when I get home...

ICA: TCP and Table Salt

I went to the ICA to see some free artistic events last night, there was an eclectic mix on offer. Try laser gunning an artist until a red strapless dress appears on his body…or taking part in a Sewing Machine race (a sort of snakes and ladders meets high-speed stitching) there was also a good folk band playing in a cavernous space romantically lit by candles – that was nice.

We went to see a play called ‘Growing Old With You’ which, in their own words: “attempts to document lived experience in real time”. I was none the wiser upon entering and…not much the wiser upon leaving. It seemed the performance revolved around a couple’s experience together in a relationship, and certainly didn’t leave you with a warm feeling of ‘togetherness’. One of the many silent role plays included the female artist rubbing her man down with TCP, much in the vigorous manner you would imagine employed by a matron during the war. She then covered him with three industrial sized tubs of salt whilst he finally gave in to sing her the theme to Home and Away (a song she had requested he sing on their first encounter apparently)

I applaud their highly physical role play which was compelling…however there was no grace to the choreography but rather a series of aggressive treatments (remember the TCP?) which gave a feeling that this relationship was a clunky and cold affair, that there was no tender, loving bind keeping this couple together. I even think they intended to irritate the audience with their long pauses and their emotional detachment from one another – I almost wanted to scream “lighten up!”

If it was their intention to irritate and estrange the audience then bravo, job done. But there was precious little information on what the piece was intended to portray, so it left you guessing. To be honest it wasn’t good enough to engage the audience and stimulate them to make their own interpretations.

At least it was free…