A love letter to storytelling.

I want to do a series of short films, 3 - 5 minutes, each an homage to a director whose work I grew up with and publish them on my YouTube channel.That’s how it started anyway. I’ve written down ideas for a couple of directors I wanted to pay tribute to and somehow the one to Tim Burton started dripping in first. I loved his short ‘Vincent’ and I knew I wanted a versed voice over. So I wrote down a few lines. I then made ‘The Pitch’ and realised it’s maybe time to stop doing homages and start developing my own ideas and maybe work on my own style. But the verses kept coming and since they were quite persistent I decided to challenge myself and make each line 11-syllables and a consistent rhythm. So that even if nothing comes out of it at least I have a half-decent poem in my notebook (as if that was something any 30-ish year old guy was aiming for).

The whole thing went dormant for about a year or so as I decided I don’w want to make any more homages until it stroke me I could still make this film ‘my won’ if I try and make is as personal as I can. I remember sending my 7th or 10th draft to Brian and getting his response that “This film has your name written all over it. It’s the most ‘you’ thing you’ve ever written.”

After that point it was pretty much business as usual - sort the director’s vision, iron out pre-production, get your crew and your cast, set the dates, get all the permissions and shoot the thing.
And, umm, well, get the money. Having learned a thing or two about crowdfunding from our last fiasco we went in for round two and actually managed to raise quite a nice sum. Added to my life savings (I do not advise this unless you have a very understanding partner) it meant we could actually afford hot coffee and one-level-above-sandwiches catering on set.

First shooting day was set in my apartment as our bedroom proved to be perfect for Tim’s bedroom. Thursday morning a truck full of kit was unloaded in front of our house (a fully, top to bottom, packed truck) with only one guy from the company to help me get everything on the first floor. Fortunately the not so developed technology in my youth meant I spent a lot of time playing Tetris which resulted in our living room being turned in a fully packed kit room. Sure you couldn’t as much as blink in there without rubbing against a C-stand but, hey, it was all safe and sound. It was all smooth sailing from here. Yap, there were absolutely no problems on set whatsoever. We were not nearly left without our kit half-way in because of a misunderstanding, the camera stabiliser worked perfectly fine every single time and did not resolve in us being behind schedule every single day, we did not have to book additional AirBnbs at midnight for the following night because of said problems, one of the cast did not get food poisoning on day 3, we weren’t ‘hiking’ to the top of the hill at midnight because I needed the opening shot, I did not get completely dehydrated during day 3 and we definitely didn’t go over time every single day.
I can very easily say that was the most exhausting experience of my life to date. But we shot the film. And boy the lessons I have learned.

The stop-motion part was slightly less complicated since it only involved Magda, myself and a bunch of puppets in our bedroom (don’t get too many ideas). We’ve never done anything like that before so I went online and searched for stop-motion groups on Facebook asking I’ll buy coffee to anyone who is willing to spend an hour with me so I can pick their brains about animating puppets. A man immediately extended his hand but also added he lives in Manchester and since it takes anywhere between three and four hours to get there from London I politely declined. Another user immediately commented I should stop being an idiot and get my ticket to Manchester right away for it is the chance of a lifetime. Well, I went onto the internets and found out the man who offered his help was Barry J.C. Purves - nothing less of a legend when it comes to British stop motion. Not only is he and Oscar nominee and a Bafta winner, he is also guilty of Postman Pat, Wind in the willows and many other great animations. Needless to say I was in Manchester the next week spending an afternoon with the master himself.

I came back with a notebook full of scribbled notes and had a week of watching stop-motion films with Magda. I don’t know how she does it but she is able to bring things to life exactly how I imagined them. So she conjured up all the puppets and the scenery while I got my hands on a 16mm Bolex camera and prayed it still worked.
“We’ll shoot it an a weekend, this really shouldn’t take more than that,” said we before what turned out to be a two-week experience. Magda was manning the puppets, I was in charge of the cameras. The Bolex and my DSLR for backup. Frame, click, by frame, click, by frame, click.
If you want to put your marriage to a test make a stop-motion animation together. If you can survive that, nothing will take you apart.
The footage came back from the lab looking better than I could have expected. We almost got divorced and I nearly lost my senses. But we shot the animation. And boy the lessons we have learned.

Right when the editing was being finished Stefano, the composer, got in touch. He would start working on themes and would send them to me and I would go ‘This is amazing, but...’ and then each time write him a page-long email. I was expecting him to drop the project and tell me to go and do things with myself but he kept on making his magic and with every version I would get more goosebumps.

I have a belief - and even writing it down or saying it out loud I am completely aware of how bonkers it sounds - that if you set out to do something in which you truly believe and if you really start putting effort in it and are willing to put your ego aside, the universe will meet you half way. It started out with the cast which could not have been better. Despite countless problems on set I got the shots the way I wanted them. We got the animation just the way I imagined it, the music was giving me goosebumps. After locking the picture we stroke a deal with Encore post for colour grading (the same company that is in charge Peaky Blinder’s post production), Cord media agreed to polish our sound and then came the mother lode.

I’ve had a few ‘dream’ narrators in my mind and we’ve sent emails to their agents to which we’ve either received negative answers or no answers at all. The fact that I haven’t considered Brian Blessed from the very beginning is quite a mystery to me as I’ve always regarded him as one of my favourite human beings. On the same day, three different people asked me how come I haven’t considered him. So I did. And we got a rather quick response that the text will be forwarded to Mr. Blessed as it is something he might be interested in. And then nothing. About ten days of nothing. With my luck of getting people from my ‘dream list’ I went online, found a voice over artist in London that I liked and went to record the narration. The day after Mr. Blessed confirmed that he would indeed love to be involved with the project. Hey, at least I now knew where the traps lie in the text.

Brian Blessed is exactly how one would expect him to be. A heart the size of his beard and vice-versa. The recording session was an absolute joy, hearing the verses I was once writing into my notebook come to life with the voice of Prince Vultan.
I always claimed that if you create something that is deeply personal to you it will resound with other people. And as we were finishing the recording session Mr. Blessed turned to me and said the reason he decided to do this is because it’s a film about him. And he loved the fact that a grown up Brian can read a film about the young Brian.

And I thought it was a film about myself.