Graduation: Ten Years Later

[Above: Photo credit, Joshua Hoehne]

   This month is turning into a busy one. I'm currently in pre-production on my first shoot since January (thanks, Covid-19!), as well as preparing for another virtual festival and panel appearance, amongst other bits and pieces, so I don't expect this blog post to be as long as my others. But last week marked ten years - a whole blooming decade - since I graduated from the University for the Creative Arts in Farnham, Surrey, and I didn't want that milestone to pass without taking the time to reflect and share a few thoughts.

  I get asked about Film School a lot. Pretty much every time I do a public or online interview, people want my thoughts on whether or not Film School is 'worth it'; is it the only way 'in' for a filmmaker, or is practical experience more important? Over time, I have come to understand more about how the film industry works; it is about who you know, and what film credits you have, more than anything else, so on-set experience is definitely more important than grades. The only job my degree ever got me was one in a cinema - many of the rest didn't even need to see my CV. Furthermore, as online critics like Lindsay Ellis have pointed out, you can learn a lot about filmmaking on YouTube these days - although it's worth pointing out that YouTube wasn't as much of a resource in 2007, when I finished school, as it is today.

  You also have to consider the cost. I was always told that, by the time I was earning enough for Student Loans to take a monthly payment, I wouldn't miss it. That was a lie. I worked hard to go past that threshhold, and I definitely do feel the loss of that chunk of cash from every pay packet! The cost of a degree is even higher now than it was ten years ago, and that's definitely something which should give wannabe students pause for thought.

[Above: my graduation in July 2010]

  That being said, if you don't know the basics of filmmaking - which I didn't - I think a film degree can be a really useful asset. The first year was essentially a crash-course in all areas of film production - including hands on experience with camera kit, sound equipment and Avid edit suites. I also got to shoot and edit film for the first (and only) time, learning how to use a Steenbeck and make cuts with a splicer (admittedly, those are skills which I haven't needed since graduating - the first RED cameras started popping up in my uni's kit store rooms in my final year - but it was still a great experience). 

   The film theory and other similar courses were also a vital source of insight. When I started university, my film taste was deeply rooted in blockbuster and mainstream cinema, so those courses opened my eyes to different styles, genres and cultures - everything from Pan's Labyrinth, in my first week, to videos made from scratchy, dancing celluloid which were designed to make you hallucinate! It broadened my pallet, and opened me up to inspirations from all corners of the globe, as well as any era, and I think that my own work is better for it.

  Beyond the courses, there were other resources I really cherished. The university had its own film studio, the first one I'd ever been on, and the field trips included visits to Panavision and Pinewood Studios (although I nearly missed the latter due to having Swine Flu at the time!). I cannot describe what it felt like, as a young filmmaker at the very start of her journey, to see places like that in person for the first time.

   Most importantly, Film School opened my eyes to how much I didn't know. I came from a small town in Derbyshire, and I didn't know anyone else in my local area who made films. I didn't even handle a camera until I was fifteen years old (these were the days before phone cameras, remember!). As a result, I had no one else to compare myself to, and my teachers were very encouraging of my work, but there wasn't anywhere local which taught film back then, so I could only assume that I was doing things right. I look back at my early work and cringe now; you can hear the buzz of the camera in the audio, the frame rates are all over the place, and occasionally you even see me filming in the mirror! But in my country girl ignorance, I thought I was the next Spielberg. I didn't even consider my gender, and the fact that that might be seen as an issue in the future - but that's another topic for another day!

   The flames of my arrogance were fanned by the fact that my university interview went well; in spite of some technical issues with my portfolio (the cheesy vampire film I'd made had to be played with no sound!), I felt as though I impressed the staff, and I was even recommended for a scholarship at the time. All in all, I felt confident that I was on the right path, and I even presented myself and my film dreams with gusto during the first week of lectures. Then the reality set in. You know nothing, Jon Snow. The majority of my student peers were way more experienced than I was - many had come from prestigious media colleges in London, and were already earning money for their film work outside of university.

  It was a crushing moment of realisation, but I worked hard to try and catch up with everyone. I'd had to move down South to find somewhere that taught film (the respected Derby Uni Film Course and places like Confetti didn't exist at the time), so I was a long way from home, and while a lot of students went back to their families in London at the weekend, I stayed and studied. I borrowed books on Renoir and Truffaut from the library, and another student lent me their copy of Citizen Cane. I later got a Lovefilm subscription so that I could catch up on any other 'essential' classics I'd missed. I also had to be really persuaded to go out to the Student Union or make friends - I mostly just wanted to work, either on things to do with my course, or writing and doing concept art for the films I wanted to make in the future. I never managed to claw my way up to getting a first or anything like that, but in spite of some mixed grades, I was able to graduate with a 2:1 BA (hons) in Film Production. (You can read more about my graduation film, The Opening Night, in this recent blog post).

   The blind confidence never came back, though. Even ten years later, with everything that has happened since, I still feel like a scared student, still learning all the time; never quite good enough. Although I'm glad the experience made me more humble - and I never want to lose that - the confidence issue is something I'm specifically working on now, and it's been my main focus over the last couple of months in particular, while I've had time at home to work on myself.

[Above: the wall of my university dorm room, covered in character designs for Lands of Stone, the fantasy trilogy I wanted to make. I'm starting to realise it may never happen now, based on the pace and style of my career to date, but you never know!]

   But above all that, the most important reason anyone should go to Film School - or any university - is the life skills. I'd never lived away from my parents before, and as I couldn't pop home whenever I wanted to, I had to learn to cook and clean and do my own laundry very quickly. There were a lot of mishaps along the way (I've never looked at pasta sauce the same way since!) but by the time I hit my mid twenties, I realised how much I enjoyed cooking, which was unexpected. I gave up on ironing after the first year of uni, though - apart from when I'm doing costume work on film shoots!

   There's also the friends I made and lived with at university; the ones who persuaded me to get out of my dorm room and live the full student experience. We were still teenagers when we met, and by the time we graduated we were adults, albeit ones which were still finding their feet in the world. Although we've gone our separate ways since then, that group of people are the ones that I essentially grew up with, and I'll always treasure them for that.

   I still remember how I felt when I came home to Derbyshire in Summer 2010, leaving university and all my film contacts behind. Most of my possessions were sat in a trailer in my parent's garage, and I settled down to watch the much-debated Lost finale - which also felt like the end of an era. I was starting completely from scratch, and I was scared of the future, feeling like I was saying goodbye to childhood while worrying that the next few years wouldn't be as good as what I'd left behind.

   That, of course, was not the case. Granted, the first year after graduation was hard; I didn't make any new film connections straight away, and I was flat broke so I had to work in a supermarket, after a few weeks volunteering in a charity store (which admittedly I loved doing) so that I could have some retail experience on my CV. I quit the supermarket job in early 2011, but then ended straight back in 'regular work' in summer 2012, after my first attempt at going freelance went badly - something which felt like a huge failure to me at the time. But then in 2014, only four years after graduating, I got my job at Dynomite Productions, as well as bringing in client work of my own, and film has been my only source of income ever since.

   There's also all the amazing narrative film projects I've worked on over the last decade - not only the films I've produced or directed through Triskelle Pictures, but countless art department jobs for other filmmakers as well, which is a career I was able to pursue through the decision to specialise in Production Design as part of my degree. There's more about my film journey, and the amazing people I've worked with, in the blog post I wrote when Triskelle Pictures had its tenth anniversary - but I need to give a particular shout out to the first companies that gave me film work after graduation, Front Row Films and Light Films. The latter even introduced me to many of the collaborators I still work with today. What's more, in spite of nearly taking the plunge in 2011 and 2014, I still haven't had to move to London in order to have a film career.

  Then there's all the personal things that have happened to me in the last decade. The majority of my major life events happened in the years since graduating. I moved out of my parent's house in 2013 (and lived with an amazingly fun group of housemates at that time!), and shortly after that I had my first date with Edward Harvey; three house moves, five pets and seven years later, he still feels like home. I went on a plane for the first time in 2013. I said goodbye to my twenties in 2019. My brother, cousin and uncle all got married this decade (as did a few dear friends), and my grandparents had their diamond wedding anniversary. I also became an aunt in 2012 - and again in 2015 and 2018 - and even over all this time, my family has grown more than I've lost people, and for that I feel truly grateful. 

[Above: 10 years older, and although I don't feel much wiser, it's time to start acting as experienced as I am.]

  I'll admit that I was dreading this milestone. Even though I question my skills a lot, I am a very ambitious person, and I'm not as far along in my career at this point as I'd wanted to be. I'm still no closer to getting any of my feature films off the ground, although there were a couple of near-misses in the latter half of the last decade. I also haven't bought a house, got married or traveled as much as I thought I would by my thirties, and sometimes it's hard to see the positive elements of your life when  your attention is drawn to the things you don't have.

   But then the world figuratively stopped turning. This pandemic came from seemingly nowhere, and my perspective on everything has changed. I can see that my hard work over the last ten years wasn't for nothing; my life was full, I have achieved lots of things (I was even in the running for a BAFTA in 2015), and the majority of the last decade has been wonderful.

  Reflecting on my graduation feels particularly important during this phase of colossal change, because it reminds me that - if I have to - I can start from scratch, grow my career again from the ground up, and many amazing new experiences could be just beyond the horizon. Time gives you new eyes, and I can only hope that the next decade will be as important as the one I've leaving behind.

  This post has ended up being quite a long one after all - but after nine years of writing in this blog, it's clear how much of a rambler I am! I'll leave it here and get back to my other work, but wherever you are right now, whether you're looking back on big life moments from your past or planning to start something new, I hope that you are staying safe, keeping well and feeling loved.

Sophie