my first time directing something in a proper way. much of it felt the same as what we’ve been doing for a few years. mainly judging how hard or soft the light should be and trying to edit the scenes in my head. there was a lot i had no idea about though. all of the established protocol with the assistant director and the names of things were just jargon to me. i felt like a foreign tourist. i knew how different shutter angles affected the look of motion at given frame rates but i didn’t know what a grip did for a living because i’d only ever seen his job title in film credits. this blog is really boring because it doesn’t involve real stuff happening. i think it’s really important to never forget that for all the jargon and protocol, it’s got to feel like it’s about real stuff happening
whenever i’m in south london my focus is always on how i will make it back to london bridge train station. not in a bad way but i don’t know my way around there and all the little streets seem to curve and confuse. which is why today i just discovered an amazing new use for the biggest building in europe. as a guiding marker to london bridge train station. i have been on a frantic dash to get last minute bits for my short film. we begin shooting tomorrow
i investigated glasgow town centre before the day got started. needed to walk off a saucy tikka massala that was still swimming round and fancied taking my notepad for a coffee. my writing was large which was a sign i was writing something i liked. this tour is ritualistic. the caring for and changing of clothes, tracksuit to black suit, the sit down at the email trail and the 6 o’clock wine. we have since disembarked for leeds in rain and tracksuits. it’s nearly the end of the beginning
i woke up in a service station somewhere. with last nights gig all over my face like the makeup on a girl who doesn’t remember falling asleep. the previous 24 hours were tightly wound with questions like varying thicknesses of rubber bands in a ball. we did the recce for my short film. but if i was to name it i wouldn’t call it a recce. in my opinion a recce is a bit of a wander about and a nice motorway meal. this was a sustained attack on the script from many angles, in many places, with many people and for a long time. it was almost impossible to repel at moments. presented with genuine kindness and team cheer but from guru’s and genius’ of their games. maven’s of light, camera and action. i didn’t think it was possible to know the story more but now I AM the story. then we were on stage. the first singing along of new songs gets you choked up. bit of a party aswell. then to wake in a place of such peace with only speeding cars in their natural habitat. no time incongruencies. no character motivation. no holes in the set design. just a bit of a wander and a motorway meal
breakfasting in apprehension of a day brimming to breach a blood vessel. culminating in the first show of our tour. i stare out of the coffee spot which has it’s glass frontage open. at the old palmers pet shop which no longer sells monkeys or talking parrots and is instead now another coffee spot. i wonder what curiosities i might have seen there when retail was still about shops. a piece of the amazon purchased on the high street before our modern amazon replaced the high street. i use shops these days as a place to look at stuff before i buy online. knowing that won’t support the shop. what will happen to the shops when all the shops are gone? will online traders support frontages that hold no stock and only display the common items to have a look at so we can still buy online? like a sexed up argos with smartphones. just products and a security solution. i can’t sit here thinking about retail’s future all day. i’ve got to get out there and sell some CDs
really liking the book about harry selfridge and the creation of my favourite shop, selfridges. but it confuses me when they put a new cover on a book with the star of the film/TV show. harry selfridge looked nothing like ari gold from entourage but that’s who he is in my head on every page. harry is ari. there’s this weird old bloke in the photo section aswell who means nothing to me. he’s getting in the way of how much i like him
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