A Day of Epic Proportions

Ever had the feeling that a day is going to change your life in some significant way, regardless of the part you play in it? Well, that happened to me yesterday.

I'd arranged to go skiing in Courmayeur, Italy with three other girls from Chamonix. We were all feverishly excited by the prospect of a day out of the valley and a chance for me to have a proper go at off-piste skiing. Plus supposedly enough time for pizza and to soak up the sublime vistas.... also my first excursion through the Mont Blanc tunnel.

We met at the Chamonix bus stop, at a reasonable hour in the morning, loaded our skis and boards into the store and got on a thankfully quiet bus - unusual for a peak-season Saturday... however, this tranquillity swiftly evaporated as soon as we came through the tunnel and were dropped at the resort. The promise of fresh powder and a perfect blue sky couldn't distract us from the impending doom that rose as we joined a teeming crowd of predominantly Italian families at the ticket office. Just over an hour later (and a few rising degrees noted on the info board), we graced the first gondola at Courmayer. The two Finish girls were very keen to head straight to the top of the mountain and surf the virtually untracked freeride area. Annabel was impartial and I (though apprehenteous at my low-level off-piste abilities and nervous of using new skis that I hadn't practiced off-piste with yet) was keen to push myself and endure whatever was thrown at me.

The pistes looked welcoming, a pleasing array of blue and red runs that I personally would have preferred to start off with.... but time was of the essence, as we'd already lost so much due to queuing. We smugly booked a table at a Pizzeria for our return: a deserved reward for the journey ahead. 2:30pm, that potentially gave us almost three hours skiing time. Unfortunately, we still had another two gondolas to tackle, and they were as eagerly clogged as the first. As we boarded the last gondola, I let a wave of mild panic engulf me as I read notices about avalanche risks and forbidden areas to avoid at all costs. I also remembered that the Carte Neige insurance I had didn't cover off-piste accidents and that I hadn't yet completed my Carte Vitale paperwork (free health insurance cover for me as an employee on a French contract).

I hadn't realised just how extreme the terrain we would be descending was until we got off the last gondola and we were alone at the edge of a series of deserted mountains, virtually untracked and steep-looking. The Finish girls had graced this particular area only once before the previous year, but they weren't 100% sure if they could recall their route. Between them, they had a small amount of avalanche kit, Annabel and I had nothing but our mobile phones. At the time I didn't think about how dangerous your impending journey could have been, but the girls positive enthusiasm, calm confidence of our ability to do this and their insistence that most of it would be traversing and wide expanses of powder helped to put my pessimistic thoughts at bay.... for the time being.

We commenced our descent with a frightening traverse along the ledge of a steep, untracked mountain ridge. I struggled initially to keep at a pace that I felt comfortable, without picking up too much speed, but I ended up lagging far behind the others and side-stepping most of the end section. Panting and sweating, I eventually caught up with the girls, and we trekked over the other side of the ridge, looking down a steep, but expansive gully. The first bit was steep and massive moguls confronted me, there was no way I could do tight turns in such a tight spot, so again, I had to side step and slide, until I reached an area I though I was ready to start skiing properly. Unfortunately, I lost a ski... trying to retrieve it in waist-deep powder was frustrating and demeaning.... I didn't want to hold the girls up any more. As I replaced the lost ski, I heard a few whimpers coming from the girls, who were in front of me.

I gasped as I saw the beginnings of a small avalanche topple over Annabel and Jenni's heads. I looked directly above me and a small amount was falling on me too. Luckily, it wasn't anything too serious, probably a product of a freak gust of wind over the ridge, but it was enough for me to realise I was in a very dangerous situation, way out of my depth in many respects.

After a few minutes of the girls deciding the next move, I encountered possibly my most sublime snow-moment thus far. A long, glide through the powder, feeling free and beginning to understand the addict's-fix status that this mighty white stuff has for so many boarders and skiiers. I was surfing, floating just above the glistening snow, carving out fresh tracks.. not caring if I fell as it was the ultimate in soft landings.

Having caught up with the girls again, we took some time to soak up our environment and take some photos. The next section of our descent entailed a sketchy traverse to a tree-lined gully, again severely mogulled, narrow and in poor light, as we'd now dipped below the sun's reach. I was getting cold, shaky with a nervous lack of energy: I looked at my phone and realised that we were already late for our pizza booking and still had the steepest section to go. I couldn't get my turns flowing, so I ended up doing long zig-zag traverses, disappointed in my lack of confidence and annoyed that I was holding up the girls. I have to admit that by this point I was almost ready to cry and give up. I shouted at myself and soon realised this was not the right attitude to have in such a situation. The girls offered me encouraging words and stressed that we'd take things at my pace. I was so glad for their understanding, but I could tell they were probably resenting taking me all the way to the top.

After what felt like another hour or two of snail-paced traversing with the odd turn over massive moguls, we reached the bottom of the valley, where we reached a path that was well tracked and would obviously lead us back to civilisation. I realised that we'd only seen a handful of people since we set off, and for once I was actually looking forward to being amongst the hoards we had sought to avoid earlier. The time was fast approaching 3.15 when we finished an exhausting cross-country trail, and came across a restaurant and chair lift. Unsure if this was the correct way to get back to the main gondola, we took a risk and asked to jump the extensive queue to try and avoid missing our bus; the only service running that day. I was anxious, and once we jumped off this lift, we had to make a few split decisions to decide which way was the quickest route down.

Joining the hoards on a mogulled red run, we began to recognise our surroundings, we were only a few minutes away from the main gondola. It was going to be a struggle to make the bus, as we still had a few roads to walk along before we were back at the bus stop. Thinking ahead, we called the bus company to ask if they'd hold the bus for a few minutes. The representative was French, but Annabel seemed to think that he understood our predicament.

Mentally and physically drained and not relishing the idea of having to stay in Courmayeur for the night or arrange a lift back to Chamonix, we decided we had to concentrate all our efforts on getting to the bus stop as quickly as possible. Not an easy task in ski boots, and with an up-hill ascent on the horizon. Red as beetroots, we arrived just in time, the bus driver giving us a series of amused and disapproving looks as we staggered aboard. At last: rest, relaxation and repose. After a non-stop, action and adrenaline-fueled day, we relished the short journey back, deep in thought about what we'd achieved that day... finally having the time to piece together the madness.

Once back in the valley, we went on a well-deserved apres mission, followed by pizza.... not made or consumed in Italy, but fitting non-the-less. After a quick bath and repose, we reconvened at the pub and a very long day, turned into a long, long night. A celebration of life, a salute to the mountains and a well-deserved treat for surviving what could have been a treacherous or even disastrous day. I'm thankful for the girls for getting me though the toughest day's skiing I've done in my life, but I also know that if I can get through that, I can get through almost anything. Like I said before: I knew full-well it was going to be a life-changing day, a day that makes you truly appreciate life and respect the mysterious ways of the mountains. I will be much better educated in avalanche risk and such before I attempt this terrain again. I shall be playing much closer to the piste for the time being, until I'm more confident at off-piste and have built up my leg muscles to withstand the intense pressure of powder!

Winter Sessions 2010 Launch Party Review

Venue: Le Podium, Chamonix Patinoire/Ice Rink

Date: 18/12/09

'Mountain folk gear up for a season laced with fresh tracks and glorious powder'

As the first heavy dusting of powder hits the Chamonix valley, what better way to celebrate mountain life than with the launch of Winter Sessions 2010, a series of events led by a prolific cohort of artists/DJs/snow sports fanatics and creative types brimming with mountain soul.

Over the next five months, the head-honchos at World Sessions 2010 have concocted an events calendar spanning the Alps that is going to be hard to outshine. Lucky powder-hungry people can expect to be treated to the fresh sounds of D-Code, Jenna G, Foreign Beggars and Engine-Earz playing in resorts such as Meribel, Val D’Isere and Chamonix - culminating in a storming three-day festival in April.

The launch party got off to a stomping start with DJs in two arenas revving up the crowd, reverberating ear-tingling vibes from a white-hot sound system supplied by Funktion One. A burly crew of local artists including: Delph, IYE 95 and Skred teased and tantalised with a bouncy mix of hip-hop, breaks, and dub step. Swiss duo Luluxpo provided a hearty blend of pink-tinted electro with a sensual, loved-up vibe.

The line-up was headed by legendary godfather of hip-hop Rodney P, who exuded more energy than a six-month-old cocker spaniel - integrating himself fully with the crowd like a true showman. Rodney P belted out a barrage of familiar tunes in his iconic London wide-boy accent, inviting all of the Winter Sessions crew to join him on the decks throughout the set. This free-style attitude paid off, keeping everyone buzzing with adrenaline, exactly how mountain-junkies should feel after an epic session on the slopes.

For more info on forthcoming events go to: http://wintersessions2010.com/

Avian Invasion

It's Monday morning, alarm goes off at 7:45. No, please just another hour!

No such luck, after a work-heavy weekend at Maunsel House (ancient stately home used as wedding and conference venue) it's usually the last place I want to be on a Monday when I'm tired and groggy. So imagine my dismay when I come upon the following situation:

I've been asked to check one of the cottages on the estate to make sure it's presentable for a viewing with potential new wedding clients. I'm thinking that it should be a quick and easy task, as none of the cottages have been used by guests all week. Well, it turns out that this cottage has been 'occupied', but not by any civilized beings.

I open the door and straight away notice two vases on the floor, one with a broken handle. Hummm, strange. I then go through to the living room and notice dark splodges on the cream rugs and books shelved above the fireplace have been knocked off-kilter like dominoes. Hummmm, I'm kind of worried now.

I turn to the left and go towards the bedroom on the left. Under the large mirror at eye level across the other side of the room is a large splattering of sludge coloured bird poo, and lots of it. Shit! Then I start to examine the room closer: everything is covered in poo. The wood-laminate floor, the fireplace, the window ledges, the curtains, the bed cover. Oh no.

Hoping that maybe the intruder hasn't investigated the rest of the cottage I go back into the sitting room and notice more poo. I walk into the other downstairs bedroom and this is worse. More poo on the cream carpet, much more poo on the window ledges and curtains. Oh, and a few picture frames are definitely squiffy. This clean up job is going to take ages. Where is the culprit - what if it's dead?!

It's a small consolation that the intruder did not poo in the bathroom, even though the door was open and inviting...

One more room to examine: the upstairs bedroom, (which is supposedly haunted) and as I slowly embark up the steep and tight stairs, the sun gleaming through a small window at eye level, I glimpse my first sight of him. Or her.

It's a black crow, a skinny one (we determined that it must have been in the cottage for at least three days) and it's misty white pupils glint in my direction as I come as far as I dare on the stairs. It doesn't squawk or move, just turned it's head more in my direction. I'm not superstitious, but I did feel a little on edge. To be honest, I was expecting it to be one of the ducks or chickens from the estate - for all the poo this bird excreted seemed too much for a crow to produce.

I'm too much of a wuss to go any further, so I head back to the main house and recruit house keeper Jane to assert her no-nonsense attitude on the crow. Jane is superstitious and she has regular psychic readings, so as we went back over to the cottage she was all-too confidently telling me that a crow in the house signifies death and she'll take the situation up with her psychic. Uh oh.

I show Jane all the poo downstairs and it's nice for someone else to share my outrage. She then bounds up to the room containing the crow, and closes the door behind her. Within seconds she's managed to grab the thing, and opens the door to show me the fairly-docile animal in her grip. She's laughing about how bony it is. It's not surprising; losing all that body weight out of its backside.

Jane opens a window and the crow flies off. I'm left on my own wondering where the hell to start on this avian invasion. An hour later, I'm fairly pleased with my effort, but not totally convinced I've detected all the brown and white matter-splatter. I then go over to the house and start deep-cleaning the industrial-sized kitchen, guh. Yuk. The man who collects the posh crystal glasses from the weekend's wedding moans to me that the motorway is clogged from here to Bristol because of a major accident. Uh oh, my parents are in Bristol, or on there way to Bristol. I can't help thinking a morbid thought that somehow the crow has brought bad luck to my family. But I'm not worried enough to call them to confirm this ridiculous speculation.

When I cycle over the motorway bridge, I am staggered to see the traffic still at a stand-still as far as my eyes can see. Little bit worried. When I get home I call mum, but it goes straight to answer machine. I leave a casual message advising them to take another route back. They don't call back till much later on in the day. Mum airily tells me that they took the motorway any way and do I need anything from Sansbury's?

I want to stop thinking about this odd start to my day, but it's one of those strange events that I needed to write down and maybe come back to. Crow, crow go away. At least he's free now and I didn't find a dead body. Must remind the management to mend the mesh over the chimney pots...

Seasonal Itchy Feet

What is it about the metamorphosis from Autumn to winter that makes me get itchy feet, desperately in need of a change of scenery or lifestyle? I know I'm by no means the only one who feels like this, but there are certainly a few things I'm working on to metamorphose into a happy winter-dweller.

First - I'm getting fit. Signed up at the gym three weeks ago, and beginning to feel stronger and although the weight isn't exactly dropping off yet, I am enjoying the exertion, near pain of circuits, weights and hardcore cardio.

Secondly, I've got to make a massive decision very soon as to where to spend my winter and spring months. It would be far too easy to head back to the Alps and live in a bubble of hedonistic bliss, now that I have a good friendship base there, work contacts, etc. all it would take to emigrate there once more is enough money for a ski pass and deposit for accommodation. I could kid myself that this time I'd spend more time writing and less time drinking, but seriously, I could get involved in one of the two magazines that are produced in the region as well as writing screenplays from home. I think that as long as I'm not working every evening until 3 in the morning like I did last year, there's hope for the creative juices to flow forth.

My other (much more sensible option!) is to move to Bristol and get work with an independent production company. I'm volunteering at a few film festivals in the South West in the next month or two, so I have the chance to scope out the options, see what kind of jobs are on offer and build more contacts, which may then lead on to job opportunities. It's about time I got a 'proper' job, maybe even enjoy an 'office' environment... and Bristol is an un-pretentious place; smaller than London, yet sharing London's off-beat, artsy community feel. I also have quite a few friends there, so it would not feel like too much of an upheaval for me, the self-proclaimed country bumpkin.

I guess one side of the coin offers fun and frivolity with a dash of character research (also a chance to improve my skiing, learn to snowboard and live in a sublime environment), whilst the other side of the coin offers financial stability, better job opportunities, arts and culture galore... and really, really bad weather! Aghhh, now I remember the main reason why I hate the English winter: mild, rainy, mild, rainy, oh and maybe a dash of dullness thrown in for good measure.

Ok, I think I may have made a decision... ?

Reflections on an Alpine Adventure

The following photos are a selection of my favourite views from my apartment, and on the slopes in and around the Chamonix valley during winter 2008 and spring of 2009.

A halo above the beautiful Mont Blanc mountain range - a view from our local park.

Bottled "Natural trouble"... the advertising couldn't be more correct... (well, in truth 'trouble' means 'cloudy' in French, but it caused us no end of amusement!)

One of our famous Alpine BBQ spreads

One thing I learned from living here is that dogs are the most important possessions of any self-respecting Chamonix resident. All shapes and sizes, dogs rule this town, without a doubt.

Taken on my way down the Grand Montet chair lift after the Boss Des Boss ski contest.

View from the Grand Montet chair lift, possibly my favourite chair lift due to these stunning views.

View from Grand Montet chair lift

Goodbye Vin Chaud, hello Xante. Easily my new favourite apres ski beverage.


Apres ski smiles with Vicky.


Apres ski smiles with Sophie.


A stunning sun-set above Mont Blanc, a view from our living room window.


Another stunning sun-set view from our apartment window.


The only charity shop in town had a hefty supply of classic and retro one-piece ski suits, which my friends and I utilised to the max. Here we are assembled for a 'one-piece extravaganza' and picnic at Grand Montet.


The 'Cham Bubble' after a hefty dusting of fresh snow.


Easily my favourite view/apres ski location up the mountain. Le Tour, I love you.


Iris and I after a successful day's skiing at Le Tour in the sunshine.


The Ice Bar at Le Tour.


One of the best day's skiing of the season - fresh powder, blue skies and no one on the piste! Blissful!


My ski gear. Such a difficult decision to choose a colour scheme... I thought fresh green would work well with the approaching spring...


Sun rise over the mountains, again a view we were privileged enough to witness every day from our apartment.


The approaching sun casting an eerie mist over the edge of the mountain - a view from our living room window. I still can't believe we were so very lucky to see scenes like this every day.

Advent of an Alpine Adventure 07/12/08

As I write this, I am less than 100 yards away from the sublime heights of Mont Blanc, Chamonix. The apartment I am sharing with my sister and two friends has floor to ceiling windows on one side, looking out at a snowy winterland that changes in unexpected ways throughout the day. I’ve been here since Monday, and adjusting to the Alpine way of life is becoming easier with every flurry of snow – which is very consistent at present. Chamonix is a bit like a surreal bubble of perfection; there are beautiful, well-dressed people (and many pooches), idyllic apartments and a rocky terrain peppered with fur trees and lift stations. I couldn’t have come to a more outlandish place – in comparison to gentle, subtle Somerset.

Why have I chosen to up sticks to this part of Europe? Well, first and foremost, I want to master skiing, which in equal measures scares and thrills me. I am not too good with heights, and the first time I got in a bubble up to Les Grands Montets in March, I have to admit that my stomach was doing more than just somersaults. I will be starting on the much more suitable incline of Le Tour baby slopes – as soon as I have forked out for the kit. The second reason (and more sensible option) is to develop a number of screenplay ideas that I have been intending on starting for some time. I have two feature ideas and a few shorts, including a mixture of comedy and drama.

A few of these ideas came to me after a rather over-indulgent weekend spent at the Cornwall Film Festival, where Pernickety was screened and short listed for an audience award. We didn’t get the award, but I made friends with the winning filmmakers, who I then stayed with a few weeks ago whilst networking and volunteering at the Encounters Short Film Festival in Bristol. I find festivals fascinating, and observing them from the inside, is so much more interesting. I think there is a story in the pretentiousness hierarchy and fakery within such a bizarre environment, it would be fun to play with a character based on a young volunteer set in this environment for the first time.

I feel quite at home in the hectic flow of such events, having partaken in volunteer work at Glastonbury, Cheltenham Screenwriters Festival and Encounters this year alone. Such a great way to meet people in the industry, suss out the gossip, go to screenings and seminars for free and attend the oh-so-important networking events. I will certainly continue to make myself known at more festivals next year… maybe expanding to the London Short Film Fest and some over-seas events. They are also the perfect ground for pimping films, so Pernickety has of course been distributed accordingly. Most impressively, I think I deserve brownie points for placing Pernickety in the hands of a script editor at Working Title and Dawn Sharpless at Dazzle Films.

I also placed a number of copies on the information desk at Encounters, so there is a chance that they may have made their way into a few important people’s hands… though I have no way of knowing unless they email me with feedback. I was lucky enough to read a draft of a new Julien Temple feature script earlier in the summer, and I recently sent him a letter thanking him for letting me read it, along with a copy of Pernickety.

I am beginning to run out of steam in the distribution department though, as it’s just me doing all the promotional stuff, it’s difficult to get excited about filling in info on Withoutabox and shelling out submission fee money when some of the festivals don’t even have the courtesy to let you know if your film hasn’t made the cut. Now I’m in France, it will be even more expensive to send things off, but I will persevere, as the film should have at least another six-month’s shelf life ahead of it. I am very excited about beginning my next script, though obviously I am already stalling my progress by writing this long blog. But hey, I’m a writer and it’s all about the double-edged sword of self-doubt and procrastination!

As for the long winter months ahead, I am so very excited about après ski, observing Chamonix’s characters and spending time with friends on the slopes, and writing of course. Just last night I witnessed a crazy scene that is begging to be used in a film.

Picture this: all my new friends smoke, and so as not to appear like a complete loner in the bar when they all went out for a fag, I reluctantly donned my coat and followed suit. There was already some kind of commotion going on outside, but things became pretty clear when we heard a man barking at a snarling dog just in front of the bar’s forecourt.

The man, obviously deranged, or drunk or both would not stop barking, circling the dog, provoking it, testing its authority. The owner of the dog pleaded with him to stop, but to no avail. The Frenchman now started shouting obscenities at the dog owner, his scraggly hair shaking violently around his bony face. Other people were now getting involved, trying to calm the Frenchman down, and ushering him away from the dog. The commotion upset not only the crowd that had congregated, but the other dogs in the area were all cowering away, accept for the one that the Frenchman was venting his anger at.

Eventually the Frenchman backed off and staggered off with his friend, still murmuring and flailing his arms around as he went. It was such a strange situation, and a visually arresting scene to witness. Obviously it was pretty horrific to see a man challenging a big snarling dog, but very cinematic non-the-less. I will try and write it into something, for sure.

Right, now I must get on with some real writing, fire up Final Draft for the first time since Pernickety, which was about four months ago, but first, I must eat the remains of a delicious celeriac soup that I made yesterday. Bon appetite!

PERNICKETY PREMIERE

Pernickety premiered to a full house (50/60 people) on Friday 08/08/08. Thank you everyone who came along, it was a fabulous event, with much laughter. The film has since been shortlisted for the Deloble Audience Award at the Cornish Film Festival, Falmouth in Novemeber. We submitted Pernickety to the Virgin Media Shorts Competition, it didn't get shortlisted, but a snippet of the film is available to watch and make comment on:

http://www.virginmediashorts.co.uk/film/1632707077

And, if you haven't already joined the Pernickety Facebook group, please do so by clicking this link:

http://www.facebook.com/groups/edit.php?success=1&customize&gid=37537091240#/group.php?gid=3753709


The film is going to be screened with Groovy Movie at the International British Riviera Comedy Film Festival in the last weekend of September, and I have just send a bunch of copies off to various international film festivals including the NBC Short Cuts, USA.

PERNICK PREVIEWS AT GLASTONBURY FESTIVAL 2008

A week before Glastonbury festival 2008, I emailed the coordinator behind the solar-powered mobile cinema, Groovy Movies. After hearing that my good friend Richard's film was due to be screened in their cinema during Glastonbury festival, I thought that there would be no harm in asking that Pernickety have a preview there. Hattie was very accommodating, and said that she would make a decision as soon as she received a copy of the film. I was aiming to send her a copy before the festival, but a few technical hitches with the soundscaping on the film meant that Alex was not ready to send out copies until the Wednesday of the festival.

After briefly setting up my camp, I ran to the Green fields to find Groovy Movies and hand over the film, very hot off the press! I found Hattie in a van surrounded by kids. She was cooking a stew, we had a bit of a natter, she said she'd watch it after lunch and text me her verdict. I had already printed off at least 100 flyers to hand out, so by this point I'm preying that she'll like it and give us the slot on Sunday evening.

Two hours later Hattie gave her consent, but changed the screening to Friday sometime after 10pm. This threw me a little, as I'd already told everyone it would be on Sunday.... and she hadn't specified a time, so that all felt a bit vague. But, we had a date! And how many people can say that their film previewed at Glastonbury?

The next day (Thursday) I set to work amending the flyers with a big fat marker pen, and text the invite like crazy to everyone I knew on site. My friends in the press office took a wodge of flyers, and I took loads with me on shift at my Information desk. How strange to be mixing business with pleasure at a festival like Glastonbury! It was tough to get the balance right, but made the whole experience all the more exciting.

With Friday came a bit more rain, enough to give me a touch of depression, but on the plus side, more people turned up to the screening to shelter from the rain, so I guess it had mixed blessings... surrounded by my friends on the front row of Groovy Movies, camera in hand, and drink in the other, I listened as the projectionist introduced Pernickety, my heart did not stop pounding from that moment until beyond the closing credits. I nervously looked around to try and gage people's reactions, there was at least 40 bodies absorbed in the film...

For a twenty-minute film, Pernickety raced by with the new soundtrack setting a pace previously unattained. We got a good round-of-applause, and most of my friends begged for a speech, but I was just too stunned to do anything other than breath. Alex and Al Butter were standing at the back of the tent, and they seemed equally over-whelmed. I remember asking Hattie if she would show it again on Sunday, before leaving the tent in search of the closest bar...

Since the showing, Hattie from Groovy Movies has contacted me to ask if she can take Pernickety to be shown at the International English Riviera Comedy Festival in Torquay in September. Of course I said yes! I'm in the process of arranging a proper premiere at the Engine Room in Bridgwater, towards the end of July. There are a few kinks that need ironing out in the soundtrack and a few minor editing issues to address before we send the finished film to more important competitions and film festivals, but we have at least 10 days before the next set of deadlines, so I think we'll take it at a leisurely pace.





Please excuse my shaky camera work here, seeing your name on the big screen for the first time is un-nerving to say the least!

Pick Up Shots Day 7

So, last Thursday, Alex, James, Dan and I troop back to Wellington to finish gathering the last of the shots for Pernickety. There's a list of six shots, and it takes us 11 hours to shoot them. Gordon's perfectionist streak has rubbed off onto all of us, and there's no point in doing anything half-heartedly now! Alex and I had to be body doubles for Gordon and Penelope, which was highly amusing... I got to wear Kellie's crasy boots, and a cushion cover to hide the fact that we didn't have Kellie's costumes on set. Luckily, we had all of Gordon's attire, and Alex fitted them a treat, although it become obvious that they are certainly not the same body shape! But by making us out-of-focus, James managed to achieve the shots effortlessly. I was worried that the amount of moles I have on my arms might get picked up on, but having watched the edit today, I'm fairly satisfied we've done a good enough cover-up!

Here's Alex watching back the shot of the female figurine smashing on the piece of marble we placed under the carpet to give it a better chance of shattering. It worked a treat, only I was out buying fish and chips for lunch and the boys neglected to wait for me before they got into destruction mode - not fair, I'd been gagging to see them perish, as I'd spent so much time making sure they stood together safely before this moment. (Remember me saying that we only had one set of each...)
Here's one of the figurines used in the finale, but notice a slight alteration to his arm... he has two hands! Oh the fun we had with these figurines, I've still got the whole collection at home, in various states of grotesque disarmament!

We couldn't have asked for better weather for these establishing shots, the sun was shining on the front of the house to highlight the features and add yet more grandeur to the establishment... You'd never guess that it's a b-u-n-g-a-l-o-w!

Alex, (still wearing Gordon's outfit on his lower-half), James and Dan work out how to frame the shot, as I watch for traffic on this road outside my Grandma's house... They're aiming for a sweeping pan across the hedge and up to the sign I so lovingly made, shame it only gets about two seconds screen time and you can't even see the bit that reads, "Proprietor Mr. G. Pernick". Oh well, it still looks authentic though.


Mid-way-through this tricky pan, Dan sticks the camera through the letter box and paps us in full-concentration mode...

Alex and Holly looking oh so professional using the crane to pan up to the door bell and then up to the light above the door. Turned out to be quite a tricky shot as there was only two of us to maneuver the crane and I also had to body double in order to press the bell!



The video clips below include high-lights of smashing the figurines on a marble slab under a piece of carpet, assembling and moving the crane so as not to get run over by traffic, Alex throwing a newspaper (ie the paper boy) at a gnome for a 'realistic' morning establishing shot. Then there's Alex pondering about how to make the figurines fly to the floor realistically, whilst He and I act as Gordon and Penelope's body doubles!

Test Title Sequence

Above is a screen grab of the wireframe Phil created for the teapot that pours out the letters P-e-r-n-i-c-k-e-t-y and then they rearrange themselves neatly, as if Gordon is at work! Phil has thus far only seen stills and video clips of the production, so I am amazed that he has picked up on my vision so accurately, this tea pot is pretty much exactly the same as the one Gordon uses to woo Penelope at breakfast! Phil created this from scratch in a day, and he's got some great ideas for the credits...

Here is a sneaky peek at his first try at the title:



For a first attempt, I am absolutely gob-smacked! I think it's perfect as it is, but striving for absolute perfectionism - I asked Phil if he can make the tea pot pour more than once and have a few more of the letters rearranging themselves for the next try. He said yes, so I can't wait to see how it turns out...

Phil lives in Manchester and can be contacted via the following routes:

www.PhilBearman.co.uk
0161 834 3328
07740 367197

DVD Artwork

Phil suggested that we put a few credits on the front cover, which I think works very well, and he faded out the wallpaper under the text to make it stand out more coherently. I still need to work out what text is going to run at the bottom of the back page, but as yet, the running time is still negotiable, so I'll probably leave it to the last minute.


This is what Phil sent me the same afternoon that I set him my mock-up, pure genius! I have no idea how he did it so quickly, just cut and pasting mine took a whole morning...


I didn't want to give too much away on the front cover (right page), so I thought keep it simple and go for the title and tag line. The back page has the comedy image of Gordon inspecting his cactus for de-fluffing.


I had no idea how to convey my idea for the artwork in words, so I thought I'd just make a mock-up, scan it and then send it to Phil. It's very basic, but Phil must have understood my vision - see above!


How pleased I was to get an email from my best friend's (Stills Photographer on Pernickety) brother, Phil Bearman saying he was keen to start on the artwork for the DVD cases and graphics for the title sequence! For free! It's amazing how people want to keep the momentum going on such a low-budget project, the good will just keeps fizzing up and up...

Premiere and Publicity

To anyone interested in viewing the film, it should be ready for a screening at the end of June, most probably at the Engine Room, (http://www.theengineroom.net/) in Bridgwater.

Updates about the film can be found if you join the Pernickety Facebook group: http://www.facebook.com/photo_search.php?oid=37537091240&view=user#/group.php?gid=37537091240

Any questions or enquiries can be directed to me at: pernickety@hotmail.com
The website with extra features such as; script excerpts, detailed cast and crew biographies, and an extensive photo gallery will soon be available on: www.mrpernickety.co.uk

Thanks again to everyone involved, especially Matt, James and Alex of Level Films (http://www.levelfilms.co.uk/index.html) for their help with the budget and getting the cumbersome kit to and from each location! Alex has commenced editing, and he's a pro, so fingers crossed a rough cut will be ready by the end of this week...

THE POSTER SHOTS

Here's a selection of my favourite images, poster shots for promotion of the film, courtesy of Miss Kerry Bearman, of Kerry Bearman Photography.
www.kerrybearman.co.uk











Here is the photo-shopped image that Kerry has been working on for the home page of the Pernickety website - coming very soon! The idea is that he will stand like this, with vile beige wallpaper behind, as various trinkets from his collection fall and build up around his body, eventually covering him from head to foot.


Massive thanks to all crew and cast involved in 'Pernickety', it's been a roller coaster of a week, with much, much hilarity. I haven't laughed quite so much, quite so consistently in years... my cheeks still hurt from laughing... The most significant achievement of this project has been the amount of dedication everyone has put into it for nothing - for the love of filmmaking. I added up my receipts last night, and my outgoings for the project (from screen test to expenses, to presents for location owners and cast) is £300. I know that the Level Films boys have spent about £200, so we've made a film with (I think) very high production values for approx £500. With a crew of 6/7 people!

Nick said that the big budget shorts that he has starred in in the past have had triple the amount of crew, so I think we've succeeded to prove that smaller can be better. I haven't felt so exhausted in a while, but the immense sense of achievement I feel now weighs out any niggles... having so much control over the project also gave me a much needed confidence boast.

PERNICKETY DAY 6

Day 6 at the Walnut Tree hotel in North Petherton started off promising, as we arrived an hour earlier than anticipated, but then it swiftly went a bit pear-shaped. After carrying up the kit, James and I went into Taunton to get some props from Sainsbury's, then onto the rugby club to pick up a mini-bus that was supposed to be used for taking the dolly and kit back to Bristol later in the day. James filled the tank from a Jerry can, and then got in and turned the key. The engine made disapproving noises. He tried again, again and then a short pause. It sounded like it was dying! And it was!

We then drove (in James car) to his friend's work place to see if we could borrow his van for the day. No problem, but not till after two o'clock... ok, so we go back to the hotel and get on with setting up as quickly as possible. As I wasn't paying to use the room, Claire (receptionist) said we had to finish up by two. For all the other days of the shoot we didn't have time limits, so the pressure felt unusual and unpleasant. But, we only had one scene to shoot, so surely, it wouldn't take long?!

It was great to have Matt around today, (see above, the man below the dangling knickers) a fresh face and another person to witness the eccentricities of Gordon Pernick... the room was better than I remembered, and the twin beds worked a treat to add further awkwardness to Gordon's naive disposition. Set dressing was fun - flinging underwear around the room and messing everything up... I think the boys got a kick out of the situation we were setting up and there was certainly enough laughter to prove the affirmative.

Here's Nick eating some ridged Hoola Hoops on the (closed) toilet, taking a short respite in between takes. The first part of this scene took no less than 15 takes, a record number for the shoot... I really believe it was the time constraint that was putting us on edge... and there was a lot for Gordon to interact with as well...

The last of the nasty figurines, Gertrude, loses her head in this scene, but she also lost her arm, due to Nick's over-enthusiastic handling of her... but instead of fretting, we turned it into another comedy moment. Maybe the young couple deliberately broke her and stuffed her broken arm up into her neck!!! Yes, that'll work...


Some hilarious video clips of the boys playing with pants and figurines... they'll probably kill me for this...

PERNICKETY DAY 5

Last night I took Nick with me and my sister, Lilli to our friend's 50th birthday party at a village hall in North Newton. Needless to say, we got very, very drunk, and I still needed to find two extras for day 6. I don't think I got out of producer mode all night - "Hey, Lloyd, what'ya doing tomorrow, do'ya wanna be an actor?!" Most said no, or maybe, but Charlotte, trusty Charlotte says a definite "YES" straight off. Love the girl, what a legend...
Think Crabb might have already agreed, but I was too drunk to remember if we'd found a man to play Charlotte's on-screen beau.

Woke up this morning very, very drunk, and extremely tired. Got up, made breakfast for Nick, packed the car, then phoned Charlotte. She's still up for it.. see you in ten. Nick arrives for scrambled eggs and tea, James arrives and then we wait for Charlotte. We're already half an hour late... I ask Lilli to phone her again. She's waiting for us, in North Petherton. Oops! First boo boo to me. So we make a quick get away in James' car and race up to pick up Charlotte. Luckily her and Crabb are ready to go, if a little jaded from the booze. They fit into their characters extremely well, a couple of young'uns off for a dirty weekend away... Alex suggests we give them a few lines, I whole-heartedly agree, but then can't come up with the dialogue as the booze has cut off the supply of brain juice to my head...

This (below) is our genius cast and crew shot, standing in front of a topiaried tea pot - yet another irony on this shoot! My Gran's house is full of tea pots, she has tea pot books, we use tea pots in just about every single scene, then - BANG - we're following a road that leads to our second location and here this surprise feature awaits our thirty eyes! Pure and utter freakery...



I think day 5 was my favourite (despite the HUGE hang over and being told off by Alex for making everyone late, oops!) day because everything felt natural and we really were having this much fun! The phallic references and slap-stick-esque behaviour of the characters really meshed well with our collective sense of humour. Kellie came back from Bristol at 4, just in time for pasties and a good giggle!