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After winning the Audience Award at Sheffield Doc Fest Your Fat Friend is showing as part of the Edinburgh International Film Festival. Ahead of the film’s screening I got to chat to director Jeanie Finlay. SYNOPSIS: Aubrey Gordon, writes anonymously as "Your Fat Friend" about what it means to be a very fat woman in the world. Her searingly honest writing describes in intimate, humorous and unflinching detail what it’s like to be that fat person on the plane, and how the fantasies, peddled by a diet and wellness industry worth $26 billion a year, are on a par with the lies that Big Tobacco told the public in the 1950s. Filmed over 6 years, we follow Aubrey’s rise from anonymous blogger to best selling author and co-host of one of the biggest podcasts in the world and public figure. Charting how it feels to live in a very fat body, and the pain and triumph of trying to change your family... and a world where you just don’t fit. AM. I’ve read that the film took about 6 years to come together, at what point in that journey did you figure out that the core of the film was going to be the dichotomy of Aubrey’s successful public work and her struggle to make the progress she wants in her private circle? JF. I guess in documentaries you always sort of write the film in the edit, and I work very collaboratively with my editor Alice Powell. But just rewinding a bit, the very first time I met Aubrey - I originally asked her to just write a voiceover for an essay film about fatness I was making - and then as soon as I met her I abandoned the whole previous year’s work, and just went “Oh you’re the film!”. And part of that was this deeply engaging and emotional writing that really came from her. She just seemed to have a different voice when she was anonymous. I got her to read out the first piece that she wrote, and she used this different voice, and then she talked sort of vaguely about her parents. When I went back a few months later I met her mum and her dad, on separate [occasions]. And her dad couldn’t even use the word “fat”. He really struggled to say “fat”, and he didn’t read any of her work, and I thought this is really fascinating. On the one hand you have got someone who is really personable, easy to talk to, funny – they all have this great sense of humour, but her parents are both at very different places, and for me that space in between that is where the film lies. I had a sense then that that was the film, because that was somewhere to go. What does it mean to have a massive ambition of changing the world and having that deep audience connection that means that you actually do, versus can you have the messy conversations with the people that live in your house? Cause often the cry is coming from inside the house. And these are the most challenging conversations to have. Being fat is the number one reason children are bullied. Often it is the parents putting their kids on diets because they are scared of their children getting bullied. And they are sending them off on a journey that might lead to lifelong yoyo dieting or a mental health toll. So quite early on… I had no idea that Aubrey’s writing was going to take off in the way that is did. Her podcast just hit 55 million downloads, she has a global audience. So it seemed even clearer to me. I mean she is getting recognised in public, by voice or even visibly now. What does that mean for her family? Cause there is an assumption there that things are sorted, but she is still doing the work. I think she says in the film: “I get all these emails from all these people asking how do I do it? And I don’t know cause I am still in it”. That felt really resonant to me, that notion. AM. So I have been watching a lot of your previous work. And throughout your journey, you’ve grown into your documentaries more and more, we hear more from you, is that something that has been a conscious decision – that you have wanted to put more of yourself in? JF. The first two films I made you don’t hear my voice at all, at that point as a baby filmmaker and as an artist for many years – when you’re an artist the idea of the artist’s voice is that it is inherent in the work, and so I really sort of believed that when I first started making films. When I made Sound it Out, it felt like quite a turning point for me. I crowdfunded the film, it was about my home, it was about growing up in the North East as an outsider and finding a bunch of outsiders, and finding community through music. In one sense it is a pragmatic thing and they are asking questions. It sort of felt important because these interactions are happening because I am there, at that moment, with a camera. And so now I really lean into that. This is about our chemistry, our relationship. It is about the relationship I have built up with Aubrey over 6 years, and with her family, and the non-binary consent that we have brought to the filmmaking. Those things are different than if you just show up and just hoist a camera it is a very different relationship. It feels like an honesty in voicing that, and being visible. There is a point in Your Fat Friend when Pam, Aubrey’s mum, is standing in the kitchen, and she’s thinking, she’s been going through it, and she says, “There is something about having a camera going”. So it is just me filming, and you see my zoom, and you see my focus. And I could cut round that, but I have kept it in on purpose so you can show that ‘this is happening right now!’. I want it to feel intimate, that the audience is there with me, ‘look at what happened cause I was there!’. So I keep those little camera movements in on purpose to show you where my eye was looking, does that make sense? AM. That makes perfect sense! JF. It’s now much more mindful. So, I’ve just done a press interview and they said, “We’re going to cut out the interviewer’s voice, so give full answers”. And I used to do that, say “Can you try and put the question in the answer?”. Real human beings don’t speak like that, and so if I keep my voice in it, then it allows people to be much more relaxed. AM. So in the film [Your Fat Friend] you are invited into quite a private space, inside this family unit, and you ask something that changes their relationship a little bit, it sparks this conversation that they have – how did it feel for you as a filmmaker to be inside this family space, to change something? JF. It felt immense. Aubrey’s mum, Pam, is an incredibly thoughtful and generous person who thinks carefully. If you ask her how she is, she doesn’t go, “I’m fine, I’m fine”. She really gives things a lot of thought and the generosity of her to be aware of what is going on and for that to have an impact, felt really amazing. Normally that stuff happens when the film is done. It’s done, it is out in the world and people have time for things to settle. Sometimes making a film is like throwing a stone into a lake and the sometimes ripples are bigger than others. I don’t believe in fly-on-the-wall filmmaking, I’m too tall! You know, I’m present. Of course it has an impact on people. It would be disingenuous to ignore it, it’s unethical. AM. Unethical to ignore it? JF. Unethical to ignore the role that documentary filmmaking can play in people’s lives. I also think, in terms of that, the collaborative process I had with Aubrey, she’s not a dummy, she’s using the film. I think that the film was an opportunity to have a conversation that is much more difficult to say out loud with her family. The film is a vehicle for a tricky conversation, albeit on a much bigger platform. I have noticed that’s what happens. I was here at the festival in 2013 with The Great Hip Hop Hoax, and when I was making that film the boys didn’t talk to each other at all, they talked to me. And then they re-united after the film. AM. Oh really? JF. Yeah they played at the party here. They re-united, they both came to America for the film premiere at SXSW, and we had Silibil’ N’ Brains rapping at the film party. Yeah, the film became an opportunity for reconciliation. AM. That’s really cool. Across all of your films, you manage to get people who feel quite vulnerable to open up and share quite a lot with you. It is one of the nicest things about watching a lot of your films. How do you manage to get people to feel comfortable with you and to share something quite private and intimate with you? JF. I don’t know. I guess I spent a lot of time with people, and Your Fat Friend is my ninth feature film, and I have shown with my previous feature films that I want people to recognise themselves, and not feel foolish for having taken part. And I’m very protective of people’s stories, I think that earns me a lot of trust. Saying that, some people just jump into being in a film. I have no idea what I have done before, and they just take it on completely face value, and they trust me, and I don’t know why. But I try. It is a big responsibility, and I guard it very sensitively. It is my job to make sure that everyone who has taken part in the film, but also those that have trusted me with their money, are happy with the film. And that I can live with it. I want to make films I can live with. That I love like my children. But in terms of getting people to open up… I think that when I was an artist for many years I was desperate to tell stories, and I found it really frustrating, that it was a hard thing to do. When I started making films, I just thought ‘Oh my God, I’ve found the thing I’m meant to do!’. I think I’m meant to be a documentary maker. I think I’m good at getting people to talk to me. It sounds arrogant to own what you’re good at, but I know that this is what I am good at. AM. But it is true! JF. But it took me a long time to learn that. I think that is because of the people I choose to focus on. I don’t like show-offs. I don’t mind loud people, but I’m always asking, why are they so loud? So I ask a lot of small gentle questions, and I allow people to come to me. We go on a little walk, psychologically. We go on a little meander. Sometimes there are things that I want them to talk about, but often if you are listening you get a million other things that you are not even looking for. It is like going foraging in the woods, you don’t know what you are going to find. But you have got to listen. I used to write all my questions down, but I don’t write them down anymore because I am listening to what people say. It doesn’t mean that I haven’t done a fuckload of preparation. I do all my prep. AM. A lot of your films are available right now on the platform True Story [in the UK], and in America on the Criterion Channel, how does it feel to have the breadth of your work be so accessible for everyone to see? JF. It’s beautiful. It’s really interesting actually. I sort of feel like I have been holed away in Nottingham just making my films. It’s a cheap place to live, it doesn’t have a film community, it is just a few people based in an amazing cinema, The Broadway Cinema. I just get on and make the work. I usually have one in development, one on the road, one that I am actively making – so at the moment I am making a film, I’m a year in. So having retrospectives is a real opportunity for people to connect the dots and see the things that I wasn’t necessarily thinking about. I want to have a discovery on every project, and I thought there would be a point where I don’t want to make films anymore, and I really still do. Next week, I am going to New Mexico. I got a Chicken and Egg award at the beginning of the year, and part of that is unrestricted funds that you can spend on anything. I want to keep learning, so I am going to the University of New Mexico to hang out at the lab. The DP that shot Your Fat Friend and Orion, Stewart Copeland, is a professor of visual animation there. So I am going to learn the ways that new technology is shaping the way that we create imagery. To learn new skills. AM. What do you mean by the way new technology is shaping imagery? JF. They are doing a lot of 3D printing and projection mapping. You don’t know what you don’t know. I want to have new skills in my arsenal. And just go and stand in the desert and get weird. It’s just good to be uncomfortable. I could just sit at home and remake the same film over and over again but I don’t want to do that. On Your Fat Friend I was really thinking about how to make images and how to marry this casual intimacy of observation that is just me and the person, and all the camera moves. Then to also have these heightened visual moments, you know, naked ladies in the woods, and delving a camera underneath the water. Really live and sit with the work. Making Your Fat Friend - I don’t know if you have ever been to Oregon, but it rains all of the time. There are these mountains that are carved from this Pacific North West rain. Aubrey writes about anti-fatness being the river that we swim in every day, and I kept thinking about the way that water wears away at the body. And that the people in Oregon look like, I don’t know, like they have been in the river a bit. That it has had an effect on them. So I kept thinking about that with Aubrey, so we put her in a bunch of pools that made her look like a mountain range, and hired the swimming pool that she trained in as a kid. I want to push myself on every project. AM. I attended the talk that you did with Paul Sng at Glasgow Film Festival, and you spoke about the myth that everything has to be London centric in the UK, and that you are not there but making all these great films. I know you mentioned Nottingham before but I wondered if you wanted to say any more about that? JF. We’re at a very precarious time with independent documentary at the moment. Funding has never been more difficult to raise. The rise of the streamers, the pandemic, the long tail of Brexit. It is all having a toll on people, and it is decimating funding. It is making it more difficult. DCMS are researching at the moment, and people like Doc Society are listening, and the thing that is heartening is that independent documentary does get money. People like Doc Society are absolutely integral in the UK. Because I want the stories that see and hear to be made by people that reflect the diversity of the UK, not just the people that I met when I got into film - private educated, mainly men, deeply privileged people that had never set foot out of London, who would ask the most inept questions about Nottingham. They would assume it was the North when it is in fact the Midlands. There is a lot of push for diversity in this country but I would like the diversity to also expand to regional representation and class. I think class is a difficult conversation for people in this country to have. You have seen my films, I like having messy conversations about things that make us feel uncomfortable, like trans issues. It is important to have those messy conversations cause change is slow. But making films in Nottingham is great. What I am trying to do at the moment is nurture more regional talent. There is a big talent drain to London so I am trying to spot people before they leave. It is only like 1% of feature doc production in the whole of the UK happens in the Midlands, and that includes Birmingham! And to be honest I think a lot of it is me. That is not right.

Bette Gordon’s incomparable 1983 feature film Variety is having a resurgence for its 40th anniversary including a screening as part of the Edinburgh International Film Festival 2023 (in partnership with Bristol’s Cinema Rediscovered Festival). I was fortunate to be able to discuss the film and other selected works with the visionary director on Sunday morning. SYNOPSIS: Scripted by the late experimental novelist Kathy Acker, 'Variety' follows Christine (Sandy McLeod), a bright and unassuming young woman, as she takes a job selling tickets at a pornographic theatre near Times Square. Developing an obsession with this erotic milieu that begins to consume her life, Christine finds her relationships with her boyfriend Mark (Will Patton) and Louie (Richard Davidson), one of the theatre’s patrons, profoundly changed. Emerging from the underground NYC arts scene, Variety includes an impressive array of talent, including cinematography by Tom DiCillo (“Living in Oblivion”), performances by Luis Guzman (“Boogie Nights”), John Waters regular Cookie Mueller and photographer Nan Goldin, and a score by actor and musician John Lurie (“Stranger Than Paradise”, “Down By Law”). A ground-breaking treatment of female voyeurism and desire, this is a transgressive and highly personal film and represents a major work of a director who continues to embody the essence of independent cinema along with being a love letter to a grimy, pre-Giuliani era of bygone New York. AM. So to prepare for watching Variety I sought out some of your earlier films, some of your structural work. BG. Yeah, the early work was so engaging in so many ways. It was really all about film, the material of film, like an artist and a painting. How do I speak with the canvas? What are my tools, my paint, the thickness of paint, or the material for a sculpture? Thinking about the art-making process. In film you have so many material aspects but the essential ones are space and time. When I started to make films it was how to use the essential elements, which play in all films, commercial, narrative, whatever. If I could take these essential elements and use them to represent and look at the image. I was obsessed with extending time and so the early films I was working with James Benning, who was at first my teacher, and then my partner. We worked together for seven years but only a few years of those in really making the films but in everything we did we were always engaged. This optical printer was a device that we had. On the one side you would shoot a scene, and the scene could be anything, and on the other side was the camera with a new roll of film and a lens that could see frame by frame, holding the film. If you have ever held film in your hands or seen the frames, the texture and the grain was so fascinating. It was rephotographing film and in that way we would copy sixty times one frame and it began to let you see things that were not perceptible to the eye if you were shooting at twenty-four-frames-per-second because it goes by so fast. It was about expanding time and examining space. Almost playing with that by dissolving one frame, but printed many times into another frame, but you couldn’t do that with splices. It was a way of setting up an A-roll and a B-roll, so the A-roll would have one frame printed sixty times, and then it would dissolve and you would have to go to another lab to have another frame printed sixty times, so it became this kind of pulsating movement. It told you something about how film moves to the camera. It was enticing, and actually I began to think wow the process itself is more seductive than the narrative stories we could tell. Even then like the opening scene of Michigan Avenue... AM. I actually wasn’t able to find Michigan Avenue BG. Okay, it has three scenes. The first scene is on the street in Chicago, Michigan Avenue. The second scene is two women who are on the street but we don’t quite see that they are there. And the third scene is them in bed together, and one of them is rolling off the bed. And it is so narrative -but so much about the seductiveness of the frame-by-frame study. It is no different than probably all my films but I think of it as very different, just the process, and it was the one-on-one. Benning and I would spend hours in the dark in the optical printer counting frames. There was no digital so you would basically be “one, two, three, four, five…” and then you would have to remember where you are. And then on the A-roll, which was going to intersect with the B-roll, the next sixty frames had to be black so that the image from the B-roll could fill it in, so then hand on the lens, “one, two, three…”. So now I have this counting disease, where every once in a while I’ll be walking down the street and I won’t start at one, all of a sudden I’ll hear myself counting from way back, “twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three…”. Did you see I-94? AM. Yes BG. So that is done the same way AM. Yeah, I was going to say it is the - one frame, then covering the lens, then one frame… BG. Yeah, exactly. Putting those two together it almost looks superimposed, but we are never in the same frame at the same time, but we’re having sex, kind of. So that early work was really an experiment. It was just the joy of having film in your hands and manipulating those things that are so unique to film, and thinking about how people see. All my films are still about seeing in different ways, and thinking about what is in the frame and what isn’t in the frame, and the questions you can ask about how people look. Sometimes you want the viewer to be engaged with the whole cinematic experience. AM. On both levels BG. Yeah, when you think about just the experience of being an audience member and you go into a dark room and the lights go out. There is no other medium that puts you in the dark like that. Not theatre – whenever I go to the theatre you are aware of who is next to you and the lights are not dark enough. But in the cinema, it is pitch black. And your mind, the unconscious part of your mind which allows you to believe that a person can be in a frame here and then… the cut takes you over, and we don’t even question! That’s impossible. We suspend a kind of conscious thought to get to a kind of unconscious thought. The surrealists. I wrote my master’s thesis on Buñuel and the fascinating experiences they did. They said that cinema is the true experiential art. And they would go from one cinema to another cinema never finishing a film, unconsciously building like automatic writing. Buñuel, brilliant! Because he didn’t so much play with the lens or the cinematic stuff that I am talking about. He proceeded very conventionally locating long shots – close-ups, and yet in putting it together he created such a dreamlike situation. I was obsessed with his films, certainly Un Chien Andalou, the slicing of the eye, that’s what I’m talking about! You have to get to the other side sometimes. And our culture is so… Sometimes we stop at the surface, “that’s beautiful” or “that’s stupid”. Movies if they are for entertainment then they don’t want people to work too hard. AM. Yes, not wanting to work on both levels. So, because of your former work when choosing to make more of a narrative film in Variety did you start with the form first and then build the narrative in? Or was it the narrative and then the form? Or was it both together? BG. Both together. Because Empty Suitcases, were you able to see that? AM. Yeah, I managed to find it, Empty Suitcases is brilliant BG. Empty Suitcases approaches what Variety does. Every scene is one long shot for the most part, with a little bit of black in-between so it is almost reproducing what happens when the film spins in the camera, well not anymore because we don’t have a shutter that rotates. Empty Suitcases was a story about a woman who is dislocated, who can’t find her place, she goes back and forth between New York and Chicago, and there is the train, this sort of back and forth. I thought of it as a kind of statement about women in culture, and where is their place? Where are they in the frame? And we found her in the booth in Variety. Which is a film about looking, and spaces, and frames within frames. I thought with Variety I am going to take this further, but it did start with the discovery of the Variety Theatre. It came from the thinking of the time, the question of the representation of women, and a very famous article that Laura Mulvey wrote ‘Visual Pleasure in Narrative Cinema’. And here in Edinburgh, actually there was a huge conference, Laura was there, we talked endlessly about the article. Many women were there from all over, from Holland, from US, from UK, from France, and just this incredible moment in time. Getting back, it was the 80s and I hadn’t made Empty Suitcases then, and I was thinking about the question Laura posed in conventional narrative cinema. The pleasure comes from the centrality of the female character as object of the male gaze and it poses the fact that the audience member would be male. And I said, but I like to watch! I love to watch, I am a voyeur from beginning to end. Just put me in the dark. We all have that instinct and so my character has to watch, be a voyeur. When I found the Variety Theatre I was looking for what my next film was going to be and I had an offer from German television after my film was in Berlin. “Love the film, we want to do your next film”. Which is a beautiful offer for a young filmmaker in their twenties. I had never thought about it because my films were always cheap and I would make it on like a dime. So I knew that I was looking, and the sort of consolidation for the idea of Variety was the booth, the cinema. I’m walking around, it’s night, I love to go places that I know that I am not supposed to go. I have always been that kind of person, if you say don’t, I’ll probably do it. Just ask my mother, she had to put up with me. I found the theatre and it was gorgeous, just like it looks in the film. The colours - red and blue, green, yellow, calling me from across the street. I look closer. You know, cinemas were beginning to disappear in the 80s. Times Square still had cinemas but in the 80s those multiplexes like the one that we have here… I loved that experience, the excitement when you’d go into the theatre and the booth and the whole experience of it. I saw that and I got closer, and I said this is incredible. But I got really close, I saw that this is a porn cinema and I said “Wow!”. I wanted to go in. Just like when I would walk around Times Square in the 80s there would be barkers, just guys who were physically standing there, and they would have a mic often. “Girls! Girls! Girls! Beautiful girls! Step Right up, live here on stage!” You know when you go to the games? That’s why I went to Asbury Park, because at an amusement park there are those guys that say, “Come on up, step right up, 3 balls, win a prize!” That is so enticing! Wow, I want to be there. Amusement parks, fun houses, stuff that frees you from your everyday reality, which is what cinema does. “Step right up, there’s a screen!” Eventually I met the projectionist who walked by one day. I talked to him, and he asked me, “What are you doing?”, cause not many women are there. I said, “I’m just looking at the theatre, I’m kind of interested in shooting things”. “I’m the projectionist, come on up to the booth”. So I went up to the booth. That is the generative idea for the booth as the place of Christine, who is both the object of the look and also the looker, so it has a kind of mirror-like effect so that it implicates the viewer as the see-er as well. So you are not innocent of that sort of process of following. You’re watching, but you’re also watching a watcher watch, and I love that. AM. Did you have to try and space out mirror shots in the film? BG. No, I just do them whenever. I love them, whenever I see a mirror… AM. I love the hall of mirrors effect you get in the red room towards the end BG. Yeah, that was my bathroom! I didn’t know where I was going to shoot. I lived in Tribeca which was this downtown space at the time, nobody lived there except for artists, and we had big spaces, like industrial. So I just took a can of spray paint, the walls were not even finished, they were like sheetrock, and I sprayed it all red. So we set it up, and Nan was there, Nan Goldin. Cookie came, the great Cookie Mueller! She said, “Sandy, I’ll do your hair today”, cause we didn’t have stylists or hair and make-up people, we did our own. We hung out and we shot, it was such a fun scene to do. We didn’t play music or anything but John Lurie, the great John Lurie, we worked together so beautifully for the score. The hall of mirrors! It is a film about the frame. I teach a directing class at Columbia, sometimes I give them those throw-away cameras they have really no lens just a peephole, and I say just shoot a roll, just process it, and I want you to think about what is in the frame and what isn’t. And it is interesting when they come back. I don’t want the phone look, I like the shape of these little throw away cameras. What did you shoot? What are you naturally drawn to? And then we would talk about that. But the frame itself and composition gives you as much information as the narrative does, but you don’t know it, it sneaks it in. If it is a tight frame, if there is a reflection, or if it is a big empty space with one character, then that is narrative information given to you the way that only cinema can give it to you visually. You get more, even if you don’t know it, you feel something different. AM. Sorry to bounce around a bit, but you made Anybody’s Woman before it, how does that fit in? BG. Yes, because I was trying to figure out, how was this going to look on film. And I still didn’t know completely what the story would be, I knew that she would get a job. So I got this Super8 camera that I had, and I just went to the theatre, and I invited two friends, Nancy Reilly, who worked with the Wooster Group, and Spalding Gray, who did too. Spalding Gray is a very famous monologist and a friend. I said that I don’t know what I really want to do, but Nancy, we’re going to shoot around the cinema, you’re going to be in the booth. It was a Sunday morning, I think they didn’t open til 12 or 1 or something like that. So I played around with the camera and I found a lot of stuff. Like when she is wandering around the lobby, I was just getting my angles. I saw the coke machine there. Then I sat them in the theatre, it was kind of stinky and gross. And I said, “Spalding, tell me about your experience going to see porn movies”. He is brilliant, do you know his work? AM. Sorry, I’m not really familiar BG. Swimming to Cambodia is a monologue film he did which is really great. He could talk about anything. So [in Anybody’s Woman] he tells his story, and Nancy is there and she is talking about the strip bar that she worked. The last shot, that is where the Collective for Living Cinema was, which was the place where I went to work with this collective of people who started their own cinema, just in a loft. It wasn’t even really a cinema, we put the chairs down, we had a great screen, we built a little projection booth. On the corner was Babydoll Lounge, where sometimes friends would go to dance, or just because sometimes you would want extra money. There was a great poster out there and our cinema was down the street. So I said, “Stand in front of this, and I am just going to ask you questions, and you just answer”, like a Godard [film]. Like Vivre Sa Vie. AM. I had seen that you had said that Godard was an inspiration, and there are these advertising moments across several of your films, they feel kind of… BG. Godardian… Kind of a comment on… AM. This is it, upfront, in your face, is that what you were thinking? BG. Yes, and also thinking about the whole Women Against Pornography, and censorship. How could you censor porn when you have advertising that is doing the same thing? And doing it in your face? It seemed like I was pulling and pushing. Especially in that opening scene, I found all these old glamour photos and advertising, it is one and the same, it is even worse. It existed in Times Square, but then Times Square was all these theatres, and so interesting, the population of people. The film business was up there, the porn world was there. We would go to the bar which was kind of combined film world people, strippers, dancers, artists, musicians… And now it is all ads. It is as pornographic but worse. These giant bodies… AM. And it is acceptable. BG. Yeah. AM. One of the most interesting scenes for me in the film was when she takes the porno mag back and we are watching her looking at these women. BG. When she is on the bed? AM. Yeah, as in what are we doing here? We are watching her, looking at these women, that have probably been photographed by men. How did you come up with the idea for that? BG. I would always look. You know, when I went into the porn store, I wanted to see. These men are looking at these pictures, and some of them I found, ‘Oh that’s sexy’, just really engaging. We always say that you can’t look at that. Why? If they can look, I can look. Of course, when I did go into the porn store, you see it in the film, I was trespassing, but not really, and they all moved away. And why she takes the magazine, is that I took magazines home. I wanted to look, and be the looker, as opposed to just being the reflection of me on the page. When she goes into Louie’s room, she is looking for answers, answers for what? Is he really engaged in mafia? That is an interest that brings her into it, because her boyfriend the journalist is working on the story, but on the other hand, he becomes her story, and she weaves her story around this guy who, it’s never really about him, it’s always about the journey. And when she looks in that little black suitcase - as in the song I used at the end, I grew up hearing that song, it is a group called Little Anthony and the Imperials, it was all like The Temptations, it is this really great song. “How I love to look inside your little book”. What is that? It’s another kind of taboo. To read something, to take your hands… Putting your hand in a suitcase also is sexual. And in that kind imaginary moment, he [Louie] puts his hand inside [she gestures as if putting a hand inside one’s jacket to take something from an inside breast pocket]. It is in any day, everyday activity, like handshaking. But taking the porn book, it was his little diary. AM. But then she is looking at it alone, in her own space, she is no longer just invading male space publicly BG. Yes, she takes it. It is all about redefining those spaces and inhabiting them. AM. Even privately. BG. They’re mostly male spaces. I guess that says a lot about me as a filmmaker. I have never been interested in creating ‘a women’s cinema’, or even if I would define myself a filmmaker, a woman filmmaker, a feminist filmmaker, I don’t want the label. I’m just interested in disrupting, or making something problematic, so that you, the viewer, would go, “Hmm, what is that?”. That is more engaging than saying, “I am going to build this other world, and call it something with a label so that it becomes marginalised or even mainstreamed…” You know, “how many female filmmakers do we have?” I think I have never been comfortable with that, I think I have been more comfortable disrupting, playing like that. That magazine, tiny tits and cute asses… AM. So you mentioned that you have been here before, to Edinburgh, and I had a quick Google but the internet obviously doesn’t have everything we want to know on it, have your films been shown here many times before? BG. I think I came here the first time with James Benning, I think it was ’75 or something like that. I forget what he showed, maybe 8 ½ X 11, which was one of the first longer films he made. 8 ½ X 11 was a thirty minute film, I think it was that. We came and it was fun. Or did we show United States of America, so maybe we showed that, that year or another year. I came alone to the Women’s Event, I think I was showing a short film I made. And Lynda Myles was here, I haven’t seen her yet. AM. There was a talk for her yesterday BG. I can’t believe I missed it! AM. Yeah, there was an event for her, and there are two documentaries being made about her. So there was a talk and a screening of one of the documentaries in progress BG. So, I think I was showing a movie called Exchanges which unfortunately never got digitised because it faded so much, Anthology Film Archives couldn’t do it. I have the film version, and it is also at the filmmakers co-op. It was shot later than the other ones but I guess the filmstock wasn’t as good. Anyway it was a short film called Exchanges, and it was kind of almost a prototype for Empty Suitcases, and it was image and text, and I think I showed that here in the Women’s Event. It was my film Exchanges, Sally Potter had a short film, La Bohème [Thriller], and a lot of short films. AM. So a few times BG. So I came for USA, I came when maybe Benning did 8 ½ X 11, and I came for the Women’s Event with Exchanges. Never any features. I don’t think Empty Suitcases… Cause it was in Berlin, they could have invited it, and there were a few times I contacted them and they didn’t invite me. AM. Well, that was their loss BG. I think all the work that I have done… Luminous Motion is a fantastic film, based on a book… I think all my films are a little bit ahead of their time. AM. Are you glad for it to be still showing now, and that everyone is appreciating it? Or do you think, “I wish we were beyond this”? BG. Both. I’m in the trenches, hoping to have a new film off the ground, that I am going to shoot next summer in Iceland. I’m very excited about that, so that is driving me more. What I do care about is that after I’m gone what will remain is a body of work. And I’m hoping that the entire body of work will be seen, and that Variety will make sure, that Variety will take care, it needs to take care of everything else. It will bring people, even if it is the most well-known. It always pains me that people always want to go back. Like Marty Scorsese says, “I’m not talking about Mean Streets anymore”. But Mean Streets – it’s so good. So you can’t not have that, but you also want people to use Variety more to examine why each film that I have made since, in some way, has a lot in common with Variety. They all have an element of road movie. Even with Variety, when she follows him, there is this sequence where they go to Asbury Park. Luminous Motion is a mother and son live in their car, and they are basically on the highways, in motels etc. until one day the car crashes. And Handsome Harry is about this rediscovery of a betrayal, and what happened back then. The Drowning too… They’re all so reflective, and they are visually. They are all conscious of how they are showing what they are showing, maybe not as much as Variety or the other ones, but it is there. AM. You could almost watch Variety as an essay film even BG. Yeah. Yeah. AM. Just to end then, that film in Iceland, I read that you planned to make it on an iPhone, is that still the case? BG. I would never make a film on an iPhone! Well, maybe a small film, but not this film in Iceland.

This morning I spoke to filmmaker Johnny Barrington ahead of the World Premiere of his stunning debut feature Silent Roar, dubbed “A teenage tale of surfing, sex and hellfire set in Scotland’s Outer Hebrides.” SYNOPSIS: On the island of Lewis, Scotland, Dondo, a young surfer, refuses to accept the death of his fisherman dad, despite being missing at sea for over a year. Unlike quiet and dreamy Dondo, his clever classmate Sas, is never afraid of rubbing people up the wrong way. Dondo and Sas’ unlikely bond will help them find their path in their rural community, through waves, beliefs, and hellfire. AM. Congratulations! Your debut film Silent Roar is having its world premiere tonight as the opening film of the 2023 Edinburgh Film Festival, you have six sold-out screenings across today and tomorrow, how do you feel? JB. A bit numb. AM. Numb? JB. It’s very exciting to be told that but it has still not sunk in. It feels quite surreal. Just need to pace myself. AM. Are you excited to hear what an audience thinks about it? JB. Yeah, that’s pretty much the main thing that I am thinking about. I would love to be a fly on the wall in the big screenings and watch people’s reactions. AM. If we were to watch your short films back – Trout, Terra Firma, Tumult – it might be easy to assume from the outside perspective that you had a linear path to here, but it is never normally the case, so could you describe how you got to here? JB. Well, my last year at art school my camera got stolen, and with the insurance money I bought a video camera instead. I very quickly latched onto this idea of how exciting it would be to make feature films with narrative, genuine narrative, spoken word, music, movement, and photography all rolled into one thing. From that point on everything I did was aiming at that, even if it might not appear to be. There was quite a lot of years working as a photographer or as a joiner and staring at plasterboard walls for quite a while but it was all part-and-parcel of getting to this point here and now. AM. So you are a Scottish filmmaker working in Scotland making a film about Scottish people in Scotland, what has that process been like? Have you had to think a lot about what shape your film has to have, or whether or not your film has to avoid certain stereotypes? JB. I quite like leaning into clichés. And fucking about with tropes. There’s a lot of different Scotlands out there. I just want to play around with ideas and not think too hard about whether I am representing something correctly or incorrectly. I would rather place the emphasis on emotion and idiocy. AM. Colour is hugely important in the film – the blues, pinks, yellows, and browns – a lot of that is part of shooting it on 16mm. Can you talk about the importance of the decision to shoot on film? JB. When you shoot on digital it is not just the image, it is the time. You can squeeze actors like sponges on digital and not realise that you are doing it. Kind of rinsing them, emotionally. When you shoot on film you have got less takes, you have got less time, and people seem to condense their energy better when you shoot on film. That’s something that is hard to explain when you haven’t been on a film set, but when you have got a digital camera that can sort of just roll and roll and roll, it is like the cart gets in front of the horse. But who wouldn’t want to shoot on film? What’s not to love? AM. Well, people like different textures I guess JB. During lockdown, I got really into looking at footage on YouTube that was originated on film, obviously it had been digitised. I have an emotional connection to a slightly shaky image, it’s all sentimental stuff, but I quite like sentiment. At the start of my work, I worked for a long time on film. For me, it is not like I grew up shooting digitally and then thought, ‘oh I wonder what film is like?’, it is much more like ‘I would like to put on my old school clothes and start again’. It is also the fact that it is a high school movie, based on my high school years in the mid-90s, and that was a time before digital photography took off. When I was at high school mobile phones didn’t exist. AM. Where there any decisions you had to make with shooting scenes outdoors with the Scottish weather? JB. Yeah, there was a massive amount of weather variation. We shot the film in two sections – winter and late summer, although the film is meant to be mid-summer. That just adds to the schizoid light that you get on Lewis anyway, it just made the visuals more nutty. I’m okay with that, I don’t mind if the cloud blocks the sun on one shot then is glaringly bright in the next. AM. How was the shooting schedule? JB. The shooting schedule is always tight, it is always a rush. But we had some great times. A lot of the shoot was outdoors, a lot of it was at sea, and not only that a lot of it was in the sea. I just have to doff my cap at the cast and crew for putting up with it. AM. What does shooting in the sea look like? JB. The underwater cinematographer, John Frank, he really went off and just got on with it himself, we were shooting other scenes at the same time. I had to stick with the actors and trust John, and what he got was amazing. And above the water, Ruben Woodin Dechamps [cinematographer], we were experimenting with different mechanisms for shooting dialogue scenes when the actors are sitting on surfboards. It is unbelievably tricky, sound-wise and picture-wise - to keep them steady, amongst all the interrupting noises, and water slapping on the sides of hulls. It was a stiff challenge for all sorts of reasons. AM. The soundtrack is wonderful, by Hannah Peel, can you talk about your creative process and working with her? JB. It was amazing working with Hannah Peel. I knew from quite early on that I really wanted to work with a composer who could straddle classical score, scoring for orchestras and choir, and make electronic, synthesised sound as well. She had quite a job on her hands corralling all these different musical elements, there’s two different choirs, an orchestra, individual musicians on trombones – an absolute avalanche of different emotions which is what I was after. I loved working with Hannah. I would have to fly over to Northern Ireland to work with her there in her studio, and then she came to Glasgow and we got a choir from Edinburgh, and a lot of musicians from the RSNO, and we recorded them over three or four days, and that was bliss. I would love to do that again. It enriches… it is more than just enrich, it IS the film! If you were blind you may be able to enjoy the film, with a bit of guidance. AM. Is that something you have thought about before? JB. I haven’t really thought about it. I guess you’d have to receive a bit of explanation of the geography and layout, but the texture of peoples’ voices, and the music, and the weather sounds - I’d find that pretty satisfying to listen to. AM. So what were your influences then filmically? Whether it be visually or tonally? JB. A heck of a lot of different things. Zabriskie Point. Éric Rohmer, a lot of his stuff. A lot of surfing footage shot on 35mm from back in the 70s and 80s. Sun-drenched imagery that has originated on film was a big influence. Also, a lot of literature, a lot of books, plays. AM. Any in particular? JB. There’s a writer called John Moriarty, he’s a kind of mystic philosopher, I discovered him during lockdown. There’s quite a few videos of him telling stories, on YouTube, and one of them is Story of Big Mike, I recommend that. He’s got a way with words that I’ve not come across before, he is very good at talking about human beings’ spiritual connection to the world. And I find what he says very funny as well, funny in a soft, touching, vulnerable way. I felt a vulnerability with him that I love. Also Martin McDonagh plays, some of his early plays, The Cripple of Inishmaan. A lot of short stories, there is another writer called Kevin Barry, again Irish, a lot of his short stories really rattled me – in a good way. AM. So you mentioned the spirituality element, and in the film you take this surf culture and sort of transcend it into a form of spirituality and play it off against the local Christianity. How did you come to decide that these were going to be the two forces that play off each other in the film? JB. It kind of just happened without truly deciding it, but it makes sense looking back on it. Quite a strong influence over the story was the death of my father. My dad worked at sea for quite a long part of my childhood, and then he became a minister. So those are two elements really, the sea and the pulpit. The cockpit and the pulpit! And the contrasts between those two areas. Psalm singing on Lewis absolutely raises the hairs on the back of my neck and tears at my soul when I listen to that recital. I’ve been listening to it for years and years, actually, I have got another feature that is even more heavily inspired by Psalm singing. For me, it represents a powerful extreme of faith and belief, and spirituality, and depth of commitment, which I can only stand back and gaze at in awe. And then the surfing, again it is another area of immense commitment and passion, and love, for an activity that transcends the everyday. When I surf, I really feel cleansed. I feel like I have been to the confession box and spilled my beans, and had a good time. There is less shame and guilt obviously. Well, there is a bit of shame and guilt mixed up in surfing, cause you can indulge yourself in it so much that you can just want to check out and just go and surf more and more and more. AM. Going forward you have said that you want to keep making feature films, do you have any details on any future projects, and are any of them likely to be set in Scotland? JB. I have got a couple of projects. I am very, very grateful to Screen Scotland for helping me out with one of them at the moment, I should have a script ready soon. One of them is set in Scotland, very much set back up on the islands in the Hebrides. The other project is set more between France and Scotland and is contemporary. They are both very different ideas, and I am enjoying working on them both at the moment. One of them will demand my full attention at some point but they complement each other pretty well. I’m desperate to be shooting films. I’m very emotionally churned up to realise that I have actually finally made a feature film. On the last day of the shoot the most pressing thought in my mind was that I would really like to do this again, to make another film, and stay in the saddle.

Grimmfest, Manchester's International Festival of Fantastic Film, are delighted to announce their full feature film lineup for 2023. The festival will be returning to regular venue the Odeon Great Northern in Manchester on October 6-8 to showcase the best in genre cinema. Never screened outside of Japan, and believed lost for nearly 30 years, Banmei Takahashi's 1988 classic, DOOR, combines deadpan domestic comedy, chilling stalker thriller and baroquely bloody home invasion horror. It finally had its international premiere at BIFAN in South Korea in July, and Grimmfest are delighted to be hosting the first UK screening. Kenichi Ugana's LOVE WILL TEAR US APART encompasses dark and deadly romance, satiric slasher movie, psychological thriller and even some martial arts mayhem. Grimmfest is delighted to be hosting the UK premiere in Manchester, birthplace of Joy Division, whose music inspired the film's title. Mikhail Red's Filipino psychological thriller DELETER (UK premiere) follows an overworked, emotionally and morally detached internet content moderator, haunted by her own repressed memories, and by the suicide of a co-worker, who starts to fear she is being by something more supernatural. OBJECTION / GIVE ME AN A (UK premiere) responds to the recent overturning of Roe v Wade in the US. Conceived and co-ordinated by Natasha Halevi, it comprises 16 short pieces in which various female filmmakers and writers react to this assault on their rights. Loosely inspired by Jenna Kanell's own experiences of abuse and harassment following her appearance in the first TERRIFIER film, Raymond Wood's FACELESS AFTER DARK (regional premiere), co-written by Kanell, deftly balances splatter, satire, vicarious vengeance and metacinematic mischief to offer a pointed critique of some of the more questionable aspects of the horror genre. In Nicholas Tomnay's WHAT YOU WISH FOR (regional premiere), Nick Stahl plays a down-on-his-luck chef fleeing gambling debts who assumes the identity of a dead friend, only to realise that he has, quite literally, bitten off more than he can chew. Gerry Anderson meets Philip K. Dick in Evan Marlowe's ABRUPTIO (English premiere). Entirely enacted by lifelike latex puppets, it features human bombs, social collapse and an alien invasion. Miguel Azurmendi’s debut feature, KERATYNA (UK premiere) offers a surreal spin on REAR WINDOW for the age of the internet incel – a slow-burning psychological thriller invoking David Icke-style conspiracy theories. EVIL EYE (regional premiere) sees Mexican maestro Isaac Ezban (THE SIMILARS, THE INCIDENT) moving away from the Twilight Zone sci-fi strangeness of his previous films and into full-blooded Latin American Gothic. Two young sisters are sent to stay with their sinister grandmother, who, they gradually start to suspect, might be a witch. A search for her own murky origins as a product of the infamous “Lebensborn” Project leads a young nurse into a confrontation with Nazi Eugenics, Nordic-Teutonic folklore, and witchcraft, in Marie Alice Wolfszahn's MOTHER SUPERIOR (English premiere), a subversively female-focused repurposing of classic 1970s-style Euro-horror tropes. Tamae Garateguy's AUXILIO (UK premiere) puts a spin on the notorious nunsploitation subgenre, conjuring vengeful ghosts, religious hypocrisy, political intrigues and family guilt. Jenn Wexler's THE SACRIFICE GAME (regional premiere) reinvents several classic genre tropes: home-invading Satanist psychos, sinister girls' boarding schools, and alienated, victimised teens with dark secrets. Quarxx's PANDEMONIUM (regional premiere) presents an existential nightmare journey into the various hells of other people, drawing on cinematic and literary references ranging from Sartre to Angela Carter and Lovecraft to Lars Von Trier. In Caya Casas' THE COFFEE TABLE (UK premiere), a hapless husband's desire to assert himself against his overbearing wife by buying a singularly hideous table unleashes a nightmarish chain of events that will destroy not only the couple themselves, but all of those around them. This is a film that will shake even the most hardened of genre fans. In Travis Greene's 8 FOUND DEAD (UK premiere), various characters find themselves unexpectedly double-booked at their AirBnB accommodation and facing an uncomfortable night with a decidedly sinister elderly couple, across three separate timelines. Acting co-director Leonie Rowland says: “The horror we are showcasing this year is interior, intelligent, engaged and explosive. It delights in the genre as much as it bends and redefines it. We are so proud of our 2023 lineup and so excited to share it with you all.” The full screening schedule, along with details of the shorts programmes, festival guests and other events, will be released soon. A full synopsis of all films is available at https://www.grimmfest.com/grimmfest-unveils-full-feature-film-lineup-for-2023/ Full festival passes are available now at https://www.grimmfest.com/festival/

Filmmaker Interview by Chris Olson Thanks for speaking with us Patrick. Whereabouts in the world are you right now and what are you up to? I live in London in the UK. Currently, I'm a Producer at ITV working on their flagship breakfast news show Good Morning Britain. I've also just finished work on my new short film, Ill Fares The Land, which I'm hoping will help me professionally transition into directing drama. We previously reviewed your short film Ill Fares The Land, which we absolutely loved! How do you describe the film to a new audience? I'm glad you liked it! The tagline we gave Ill Fares The Land was 'mermaids, migrants and the far-right' which I think pretty succinctly sums it up. The film is a fantasy-drama which revolves around a young boy who finds a mermaid washed up on the shores of his seaside home while his older brother is swept up in the rising tide of far-right nationalism. The mermaid essentially acts as a metaphor for a migrant attempting to cross the English Channel (which is obviously a big political talking point at the moment) and the film examines this growing problem of right-wing radicalisation and racism within parts of white working-class England. The film is dealing with some heavy themes. Why did you want to tell this story? I grew up in a seaside town (Herne Bay, Kent) which was very much a white working-class community. Sadly, over the years, I've noticed the rhetoric in these sorts of communities drift further to the right and for racism and xenophobia to become commonplace. Indeed, this is happening everywhere - across not just Britain, but much of Europe and America. Fascism is on the rise again and many of us feel powerless to stop it. With Ill Fares The Land I wanted to make a film which, unflinchingly, depicted this reality as well as ask this question: Is a second fascist era inevitable? Can this new, growing fascism that is devouring community after community be stopped? At its core, the film is my attempt to answer that question. What were the challenges of getting Ill Fares the Land made? Ill Fares The Land was a completely self-funded project, so finding the money to make the film was the first big challenge! I spent years and years squirrelling away money until I was in a position to fund production - from paying cast and crew, to buying props, location fees, to even submitting to film festivals now! Aside from budget, the challenge as ever with all independent films is to make something without the machinery and resources of a major studio or production company. Luckily, I was blessed on this film with the best cast and crew I've ever had the pleasure of working with. As cliché as it sounds, every one of them genuinely went above and beyond on this film. Among others, I had the most brilliant cinematographer in Stephen Roach; a first-class editor in Michael Pentney; and the best score for a short I've ever heard (I know I'm biased!) thanks to composer Magdalena Maria Herfurtner. My producers also, Jessica Romagnoli and Annabella Casaburi, were absolutely heroic in fighting the various fires that every new day making a film brings. How had the experiences on your previous shorts (e.g. The Director, Anonymous: A Million Men) impacted the way you made this new film? Ill Fares The Land is definitely my most ambitious project to date – and also my best! I couldn't have made it in the way we made it without the experience and lessons learnt from my previous films (Anonymous, One in a Million and The Director). With Ill Fares The Land, it almost felt like I had finally learnt how to direct a film! That I was able to overcome my ego, my insecurities; that I was able to properly channel my creativity and collaborate completely with the other artists involved. I approached Ill Fares The Land as if it were the last film I was ever going to make and that was quite freeing in a way the others weren't... I guess it was more a state-of-mind type thing, as opposed to something practical. Sorry for getting a little wordy there. Where can people see Ill Fares the Land and your other movies? You can see all of my previous shorts on either Vimeo or YouTube. The Director (2018): A satirical black comedy about a 'serious' filmmaker's desperate attempts to make a 'serious' documentary on homelessness. One in a Million (2017): Award-winning drama about an autistic teenager who dreams of one day winning the lottery and escaping the shackles of his impoverished seaside hometown. Anonymous: A Million Men (2015): A documentary about the Anonymous movement during the lead up to their 2014 Million Mask March in London. What's next for you? For now, I'm focused on taking Ill Fares The Land to festivals. I'd love to make a feature-length film some day, so hopefully that's an opportunity that'll arise in the not-too-distant future... Why do you make movies? I've loved making films ever since I was a kid. My parents bought me a Mini DV camera and I used to make short films in school with my friends when we should've been in lessons! I suppose filmmaking is the ultimate form of escapism - literally creating worlds - and that's what I love about it. From when I was a child, to what I do now, it's essentially always remained the same. As well as the joy I get out of making films, I also think it's important to document this particular era in history. The films I make tend to have political undertones and that's because we're living through such a significant historical moment, from the climate crisis to the (seeming?) slow collapse of capitalism. Whatever happens, I like the idea that future people will be able to go back to the films of this time (particularly the indies) to be able to get a sense of how everyday people thought/felt about the world and what was happening around them. Read our review of Ill Fares The Land.

★★★★★ Directed by: #JimmyOlsson Starring: #MattiasNordkvist and #GryEriksson Short Film Review by: Alexandra James Last Weekend with Jenny and John is a short Swedish film that follows a father and daughter on a trip to Motala for a basketball game that daughter Jenny is playing in. The film focuses on their relationship and the changes that have developed as Jenny becomes a teenager and no longer needs her father anymore. Instead, she wishes to be around friends and chooses to spend less and less time with him. Whereas John is struggling to come to terms with this reality and wants to bridge the gap between the two, so arranges a weekend for just them so they can spend some quality time together. In terms of narrative alone, it is simple and clear, we have a loving father and a typical teenage daughter with an average family relationship. However, because of this normality, it’s a relationship with which the audience can fully connect with. The raw emotion between the two, is real and moving, and spells out the truths of becoming a parent and the feelings you experience when you are no longer needed by your child. Jenny and John created a bond through playing basketball together, it’s clear that this is a sport which her father played a lot with Jenny from a young age, and she has grown to love the game and has now become a part of a team. However, as the match approaches, Jenny mentions that she is thinking of quitting basketball, a statement which clearly affects John emotionally. His daughter is growing up and the quality time they have together is few and far between, Jenny leaving basketball, only distances her further away from her father. It was easy to see the relationship between the two break down before our eyes. Jenny was oblivious to her father trying to reconnect with her and instead buries her head in her phone and the world of social media and wishes to be around her teammates. At the same time, John refuses to recognise that his daughter is becoming a young woman and needs that independence to gain confidence and learn to stand on her own two feet. Both characters represent very real father and daughter relationships in life. It’s a hard change a parent and child must experience and its often not recognised enough. However, there will always be times that children need the support from their parents, and even parents that need their children. Although there is that moment where the two move away emotionally and physically from one another, that bond will always remain, and it was great that the Last Weekend with Jenny and John reflected that bond so well and highlights the importance of family. Director Jimmy Olsson creates a beautiful story which shows the highs and lows of being a father and that need to always be the hero in their child’s life and to feel wanted. The cinematography and locations within this short were fantastic, I really enjoyed this piece and highly recommend.

★★★ Directed by: #BradCase Starring: #BrianUstaszewski and #HBGibson Short Film Review by: Alexandra James Pavor Nocturnus is a film written by Brad Case, from the book of short stories Elucidation. The short film is a reading of this story and is coupled with nightmarish images and strange, eerie sounds, as well as a mysterious protagonist who is troubled, frightened and haunted by his own thoughts. Pavor Nocturnus is a sleep disorder which goes far beyond your typical nightmare or dream. Instead, those that suffer with the disorder are subject to terrifying visions that become repeated and can often lead to sudden attacks. This is the condition our protagonist suffers with severely, and the story follows his mission to discover the core source of these terrifying nightmares that torment him. The voice of the narrator was extremely soothing and melancholic, it was easy for the listener to be swept up in the words and become fully immersed within the tale. The viewer becomes eager to learn more about our tormented character and the dreams that leave him so disturbed. The audience were able to envision the characters within the dream so clearly, the woman in white and the house with which she resides in. The words were powerful and created a vivid image in your mind. Just the voice alone was a fantastic addition to the film, there was already a strong mental picture through just the narrators voice which really strengthened the film. Pavor Nocturnus followed our protagonist in his home, waking from another sleepless night and performing his average morning routine, making coffee and breakfast, and eating at the table alone. There was an effect used which shows everything in black and white except for anything that appeared red. This selective colourisation is a good technique to use when you want the audience to recognise a significant object that is crucial to the storyline. For example, the girl in the red coat in Schindler’s List was an extremely poignant scene that really stirred a strong emotional response from the viewer. Similarly, Spielberg’s horror classic Jaws does not use the colour red for characters costumes or props because he wanted red to be only associated with blood from the shark’s victims so that it would be that much more dramatic when the audience does see it. Pavor Nocturnus should have committed to just the black and white effect throughout to keep with the macabre ambience of the piece and to focus on the gloomy feel of the dreams. The selective colourisation should only be used to highlight a significant recurring image or theme of the film. There were times that the film was broken up with bizarre and jarring imagery such as the character looking into the mirror and almost having an outer body experience. His face remains emotionless, however, his inner thoughts and feelings become exposed suddenly and the audience witness the effects the dreams are having on him. These fleeting moments were a great way of exposing the characters mental state and certainly added to the sinister atmosphere of the short film. As this is a horror, these kind of images shifts the film to the centre of the genre. However, these scenes should have been more frequent especially when focusing on a story based around dreams and nightmares. There needs to be that element of strangeness and scenes that do not entirely add up to show how the nightmares are creeping into our protagonist’s day to day life, there was too much focus on his mundane tasks. Pavor Nocturnus is a great thriller narrative that makes your hairs stand on end and your heart pound. It’s interesting to see how short stories are interpreted and turned into a vision. These types of films allow the director to put their own artistic flare to a story, some of with which you may never have envisioned yourself which is always so inspiring to see.

★★ Directed by: #RakeshJaitly Starring: #AsadPanjwani and #CiaranCochlan Short Film Review by: Alexandra James Bad Blood is a short comedy film that takes place at the height of the pandemic when distancing was mandatory and the fear of catching covid was spread worldwide. Director Rakesh Jaitly, pokes fun at some of the paranoia that many of us experienced during this time and exaggerates the hilarity of the rules and regulations which were enforced so cleverly by the powers above to keep the public safe. These were rules that all of us needed to abide, unless you live at number 10 of course, then it’s the do whatever you like, who cares approach! Of course, many of us needed to be aware of the space between others but some may have taken the 2 meters approach a little too literally and this is certainly the case for one of our characters in this drug deal gone completely wrong! The film opens with characters Chris and David running out of a subway handcuffed. David has somehow managed to release one arm whilst Chris runs shortly after with both hands still firmly cuffed. As they run for freedom, David confronts Chris and argues that he is far too close and needs to remain 2 meters away from him, even drug dealers care about their health too! As the two men begin to argue, their chance for escape becomes further out of reach, and they become distracted by a slapstick play fight that drags on a little too long. Jaitly should have added to the witty dialogue further rather than prolong this playful fight between the two characters. Although amusing to some at first, it soon becomes tedious and the humour fizzles out very quickly. It would have been great to see back and forth banter between the two men. They clearly know each other well and have been working together for some time so it would have been interesting and entertaining to watch this relationship play out on screen coupled with some witty one liners to strengthen the comedic aspect of this short film. The camera work to this was jarring in places, quite a lot of shakiness and the angles were occasionally disorientating. This did bring the piece down in some respect, combined with the limited locations which were used for this short. There needed to be more of an investment into a lot of aspects to this film, the dialogue, location, and cinematography could have been developed a lot further which would have given this short a lot of potential. All the pieces were there to make this a hilarious short film; however, it did not manage to meet expectations. If the characters were able to interact with each other more, Bad Blood would be able to open the story to some creative and funny scenarios for our main characters.

Interview by Chris Olson Hi Anna, thanks for speaking with us. Where in the world do we find you right now? I am currently based in New York. In 2020, you completed a short documentary film called Point Symmetry. For our readers, what's the film about and how did it originate? The film "Point Symmetry" is an exploration of the stories of Ute Gfrerer and Lisa Rosowsky, two middle-aged women from Boston whose parents experienced contrasting realities during World War II. Ute's father was a German soldier and a member of the Nazi Youth, while Lisa's parents and grandparents, who were of Jewish descent, were tragically sent to Auschwitz. Miraculously, Lisa's father, Andre, survived the genocide, making him one of the few survivors from her family. The inspiration for "Point Symmetry" stemmed from a friend named Julia, who introduced me to Ute and briefly shared her story. This introduction sparked a deep connection and a desire to bring their narratives to light. The film takes the form of a video portrait, delving into their past stories and focusing on the evening event they organize called "For our fathers." "For our fathers" serves as a moving program, combining Holocaust-related songs with artwork, as a means of exploring grief and legacy. The songs featured in the program are poignant poems set to music composed by notable artists such as Kurt Weill, Norbert Glanzberg, and Hermann Leopoldi. These musical pieces serve as emotional expressions, conveying the experiences and emotions tied to the Holocaust. The creation of "Point Symmetry" was driven by a desire to give voice to these remarkable stories, to honour the past, and to explore the power of music and art in navigating personal and collective traumas. By intertwining the experiences of Ute and Lisa and capturing the essence of the evening event they organize, the film creates a portrayal of grief, remembrance, and resilience. The film is dealing with incredibly emotional themes. What's the reaction been like to it from audiences? The film "Point Symmetry," with its profoundly emotional themes, has resonated strongly with audiences. The impact of World War II, which affected numerous families worldwide, has evoked a deep emotional response from viewers. Many people who have watched the film found themselves becoming emotional due to the recognition of the far-reaching consequences of the war on families across the globe. The film's exploration of the contrasting experiences of Ute and Lisa, and their families' connection to World War II, has struck a chord with audiences. It has reminded viewers of the immense human toll and the enduring legacy of that period in history. Where can people see Point Symmetry? Currently, it’s only available by private screening link but I’m planning to release the film online. Another documentary you made was Generation 328 which deals with the harsh punishment for smoking marijuana in Belarus. Why did you want to make this film? As the executive producer and director of the documentary "Generation 328," my friend Nika Nikanava had a deep passion for shedding light on the harsh punishment for minor drug offences in Belarus. Tragically, Nika passed away in Alaska in 2019, leaving the project unfinished. In honour of her memory and her dedication to this important cause, myself, along with Piotr Markielau (her husband) and Anice Jee, took on the responsibility of post-producing the film and completing it. We felt a strong sense of duty to carry forward Nika's vision and create a lasting legacy for her through this documentary. "Generation 328" was her most significant project, and we wanted to ensure that her voice would be heard and her message amplified. The film aimed to raise awareness about the severe consequences faced by individuals in Belarus, highlighting the unjust treatment and the impact it has on their lives. By completing the film, we hoped to not only honour Nika's memory but also contribute to meaningful discussions, and advocate for change. It was our way of preserving her legacy and ensuring that her impactful storytelling would reach audiences and make a difference. What were the challenges of making this and Point Symmetry? For the documentary "Generation 328," one of the main challenges we faced was the absence of the director, Nika Nikanava, who unfortunately passed away. Nika's vision and creative guidance were invaluable, and her absence created a void that we had to navigate while completing the film. It was a difficult and emotional process to continue the project without her presence and insights. As for "Point Symmetry," the challenge lay in delving into the deeply emotional and challenging memories associated with the experiences of the individuals involved. Addressing topics such as war, grief, and the Holocaust required careful sensitivity and respect. The process of revisiting and documenting such painful memories was emotionally demanding for everyone involved in the production. Both films presented unique challenges in their own right. Why do you make movies? I make movies because it serves as an outlet for expressing my thoughts and exploring topics that deeply resonate with me on a personal level. Filmmaking allows me to translate my ideas, emotions, and perspectives into a visual and narrative form that can connect with audiences on a profound level. Movies have the power to evoke emotions, spark conversations, and create a shared experience among viewers. Through storytelling, I can shed light on important issues, provoke thought and reflection, and contribute to a broader understanding of the world we live in. It is a medium that enables me to communicate and engage with others, inviting them to see the world from different perspectives and fostering empathy and connection. What's next for you? Currently, I am immersed in my work on various editorials and campaigns for a well-known fashion brand. Alongside that, I am also planning to collaborate with a co-writer on writing a script for a short film. I am enthusiastic about the possibilities that lie ahead and look forward to the journey of crafting a compelling script and eventually bringing it to the screen.

★★★★★ Directed by: #JoshuaBlewitt and #VeltonJLishke Starring: #NikkiHelens, #VeltonJLishke, #DanniShepherd, #ConnorWyse, #LucyMizen Short Film Review by: Alexandra James The Family Man is a film loaded with dark secrets, pain, and fear. However, instead of a ‘family man,’ stepfather and husband Roger is far from the loving and protective figure many of us envision to be a part of the family unit. As the story develops, we uncover a whole load of deep and terrible secrets which are buried within the home that should remain hidden. Directed by Joshua Blewitt and Velton J.Lishke this short was twisty, suspenseful and left the audience open mouthed by the finale. The Family Man opens with wife Jane having a friendly chat with her neighbour, everything seems relatively normal, until she notices her husband Roger staring out the window at a girl walking down the street. Her face changes completely and she ends the small talk with her neighbour. Roger comes across as respectable and calm mannered, he clearly has a loving relationship with his wife and works extremely hard throughout the day, or that is how it appears. It was great that this short film had a constant suspicion surrounding the characters. There was this need to analyse certain behaviours to build the narrative and keep us guessing. It was brilliant that this climactic twist remained a secret until the bitter end, keeping you on the edge of your seat. The actors fit the character roles perfectly, the audience were met with a stereotypical family circle. Mum, stepdad, and moody daughter who was embarrassed by her parents. On the surface, they appeared ‘normal’ until daughter Claire invites her new boyfriend over for dinner and Roger is unable to hide his anger as conversation turns to the missing girl that has bombarded news recently. This scene turned the whole narrative on its head and raised more questions about Roger’s behaviour and this rage that seemed to have come out of nowhere. Velton Lishke who played the character was passionate and managed to create this monster with the façade of a kind and doting husband. He added a lot of energy to the film, his presence within each scene certainly made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end as there was this underlining anger and hatred which was suppressed within, and no one was sure when this would explode. The Family Man is a great film with edge and raw emotion, if you’re looking for a cuddly, wholesome family film then this is not the one for you! This horror/thriller will keep you guessing until the end and focuses on a man fighting with two personalities, one of which should remain behind closed doors and never be let out!

★★★★ Directed by: #AlekWiltbank Starring: #PatrickSwansborough, #TylerHuff, #AquaSupreme Short Film Review by: Alexandra James Three friends enter unknown territory as a zombie apocalypse takes over the earth and survival instincts are forced to kick in. Trapped inside their home with limited food and resources, they must learn to adapt to this new way of living and attempt to make it through this event by barricading themselves inside and debating who would be the first to be eaten if matters became dire…at least we know that there is a huge stack of cheese sticks available if things become unbearable! Unfortunately for the three friends, they may have slightly misinterpreted the news report and jumped to conclusions a little too quickly regarding the whole zombie apocalypse situation, not the best start to an evening. This short film is a hilarious premise that goes from mad to madder and does not shy away from the farcical. Director Alek Wiltbank’s horror comedy takes the audience on the ultimate ‘trip’ and perhaps what not to do if there is ever a zombie apocalypse. The three guys seem to spend most of their days getting high and watching the news, however, this can also be a recipe for disaster as the paranoia sets in and they need to determine who is a zombie and who is just a severely intoxicated guy wandering the streets, a tough one to call for sure. Wiltbank’s short film is relaxed and natural, it was great to watch the interactions between the three friends playout, a lot of it seemed off script and spontaneous which made for some hilarious and sometimes bizarre scenes, regardless, it was entertaining throughout. The characters were the key driving force of the narrative and so it was important to have them keep the witty banter and reactions with one another light and bouncy to keep the audience entertained throughout. My favourite character particularly is the man running around with a horse mask, strange but it worked! This level of comedy was kept up throughout the piece and this can often be quite a tricky skill to uphold, that level of passion and humour can sometimes dry out as the film progresses, however, all three actors managed to keep the audience on their toes. Night of the Living Ted was lacking in quality footage, there were scenes that were too dark and slightly grainy in places and the cinematography was not entirely up to scratch, as well as the sound which was sometimes difficult to make out. These are improvements which would have really set the film apart and could have lifted the comedic scenes as well. Regardless, this is a comedy horror that you should try out, and with a few tweaks it would be fantastic to see more great comedy adventures for our three friends to conquer.

★★ Directed by: #AbubakrAdamu Starring: #IsraelBartholomew, #UmoruSylvesterAduku, #TauheedAbdullahiMohammed Short Film Review by: Alexandra James Guest of the Woods is a short horror film that follows three friends looking for an adventure. Bolaji, Dare and Haidar have finished exams and are desperate to escape the ever-growing boredom that hangs over their group. After watching a horror film, they believe that the best thing to find some form of entertainment, is to head to the woods and spend the day in there in hope of living in a real-life horror film. Not only were the boy’s seeking excitement, Haidar, is a big blogger and has been looking for new ways to gain viewers and make engaging and exciting content, could this new adventure be the way to do it? This is a small budget film so with this kind of constraint it’s key that imagination, passion, and a unique vision is present within these short films to make up for this lack of budget. This story does fall into the cliché horror pathway, friends becoming too curious and head to the woods, completely oblivious to the stuff of nightmares that could potentially be lurking behind every corner. For avid horror fans like me, this is a narrative which we are all familiar with. However, regardless of a story falling into this cliché this cannot hinder a film, it’s the twist you add to the narrative which can truly spark fear and interest. Guest of the Woods does include a hint of a twist, however, this needed to be explored and invested in a lot further. The location was interesting but did not scream horror, it would have created a much creepier atmosphere if filmed in the dark rather than the day, this is typically what evokes fear, it’s the unknown within the darkness. Again, with a small budget, an investment into perfect locations would really elevate this piece, there was not much variety and so made for a slow pace and was difficult to remain invested. The acting of the three friends was convincing, they had a clear bond throughout, and this is crucial within horror films. It’s important to believe in the characters own story and the reasoning for them taking this journey. I enjoyed their friendship dynamic and the interactions with one another set the story up perfectly and diverted the audience from the twist that lied ahead. Their reactions to some of the frightening scenes could have emphasised the shock and terror they experienced to convey that fear and project this onto the audience. It was great to not be fully exposed to the twist as what creates a good horror film is the not knowing. This form of tension building keeps you fearful and curious throughout, which is the perfect combination. Guest of the Woods has the elements to construct a creepy horror, with a few additional modifications this has great potential. It would be fascinating to see this short turn in to a two-part film and watch where the director Abu-bakr Adamu vision takes him.