The Summer Update 2021

    It's a rare quiet Sunday. There's a heatwave outside, the kind of weather where you always crave cold ciders. I'm writing this blog post in my new home office, in my new home. That statement alone is cause for celebration, but it grows in significance when you add the fact that I co-own the house with my partner, Edward Harvey, and we are first-time-buyers. Furthermore, my home office is now my only office because, for the first time in almost a decade, I am fully self-employed. Even if you don't take the pandemic into consideration, this has been a year of change for me - and we're only just over half way through it.

   So, to quote the Talking Heads (because I'm that old), "well... how did I get here?"

   Unlike most blog posts, I'm going to start this one with the personal updates, because they are significant - and first up, I'm going to talk about the house move.

   Anyone who follows my Instagram feed might be surprised to hear that I left my old house. Edward and I were living in a gorgeous village, surrounded by countryside; our house was the type of stone cottage I've always dreamed of living in; and I put a lot of time and effort into growing plants in my garden, resulting in a lot of flower spam on social media, and a stream of hashtags like #CottageGarden and #CottageLife.

[Above: from 'chocolate box' cottage to our own fixer-upper]

  As we are told time and time again, what you see on Instagram is far removed from the truth. I can testify to that fact. I hadn't even been in my garden much since before the Pandemic started, because of what I could see from my back window... We'd had troubles with the neighbours since literally the day we moved into that cottage, but when they moved away, and new neighbours moved in, the problems increased. The police were round constantly, and I'd find anything and everything in my back garden from cigarette butts to unaccompanied children (pulling up/trampling my plants), even drunken party guests and unfamiliar dogs at times. One day there was broken glass, and a lot of blood. We stuck it out as long as we could, because we loved the house and had put so much effort into it - but at the point when it didn't feel like home anymore, we realised we were being stubborn for no reason, and made the decision to pack our bags.

[Above: living in
box land!]

   The new house hasn't been without its challenges. We had a lot of help getting our foot in the door, which we're so grateful for, but we also had to be realistic about what we could afford, so we moved into tiny fixer-upper. We spent an unseasonably-cold Spring without proper insulation, the kitchen was stripped bare by damp proofing, the living room light switch used to turn off the bedroom light, and every time we paint over a crack, a cupboard door drops off its hinges, or something similar happens. But it's ours. Things are quieter, safer, and our neighbours are lovely (with a great taste in music!). Eventually Edward and I stopped jumping at every sound we heard outside, like we were recovering from trauma. There are still a few boxes dotted around, but things are coming together slowly. 

   So that was the first big change. The second was just as big: my decision to go self-employed again. Quite a few people weren't aware that I actually had a 'day job' of sorts, because I pretty much never dropped the ball with the other stuff - but it turns out that moving house, having a day job and running a business (which contains a mix of client work and narrative film production) is really ruddy hard!! Between the start of March and June, apart from moving house - which was work in itself - I only had two full days off. I was proud of all the work I was doing, but I wasn't looking after myself, and something had to give.

   It was another really difficult decision to make because I'd loved my job; I'd been there seven years and grown really close to the team. Also, because I was editing and occasionally producing videos, it didn't always feel like a job, and there were many days where I couldn't believe my luck that I was making a living that way. I'll always be so grateful to my boss for not only giving me the job, but also training me up and teaching me everything I know about editing and business; I was able to 'rise through the ranks' to Head of Post-production, and I was well looked after during the Pandemic. But the corporate/commercial video production world and narrative film productions aren't exactly part of the same industry, even though similar skills are used, and with my long-term career goals in mind, I couldn't stay in that job forever. It seems mad to say this on the outskirts of a global financial crisis, but the time felt right now - even if I had to say a few tearful goodbyes as a result.

   Self-employed life is scary. I'm over-cautious, so I took a long time to make this step, and nearly bottled it twice on the run-up. My biggest cause for concern is that I've been here before; back in 2011, I quit my supermarket day job to 'chase the dream', and I did it wrong. I did unpaid passion projects - which I loved, and which gave me the opportunity to meet many collaborators I still work with - but I ran out of money after about a year, and ended up in a 'normal' job again (read this mopey blog post to see what that did for my mood levels at the time). I don't want to fail; I also don't want to fall flat on my face, particularly as I've just bought a house. But I'm not the same person I was back then. I'm more experienced, partly because I've made mistakes and learned from them.

[Above: my new work-in-progress home office]

   I'm still mega busy. I wouldn't have left my job if I didn't already have plenty of work on. I've saved up a chunk of cash, and I have bookings well into September. But the pace feels better - I'm working most days instead of every day, I have a quiet piece of time every morning over breakfast rather than rushing to start my commute (currently I'm watching the BFI's mega documentary Women Make Film in bits over breakfast, which was a birthday present from Tommy Draper), and I finish at a good time most evenings, unless I have deadlines that require a little extra work. It also means I can more regularly make time to exercise, cook proper food, and work on finishing the house - all of which are things that I neglected before.

   And, unless it's a 'big edit week', Sunday is now dedicated to the narrative side of my career - which was a key part in my decision to take this step. Whenever things are slightly quieter, I'll use this day to work on scripts, apply for grants, take online courses, etc. And then once a month, if I can, I'll do a quick blog post to update you all on my progress - because I actually really enjoy writing these posts, particularly after I stopped keeping a diary at the end of 2015. Looking back at these posts is always a cathartic experience, even if it can be difficult sometimes.

   The thing is, I've been taking stock a lot lately, as we all have over the past year. Life is fantastic right now, but two things worry me (beyond financial stability). Firstly, I miss being on set in general, but more than anything I miss being on set as a director. I've had my fingers in so many pies in this industry over the years, but directing is still the thing I love the most, and I always want to get better at it, which takes experience. I haven't directed a film since Lepidopterist, which was shot over two years ago. That was a small, competition-entry film, and so I haven't actually directed a larger-scale short film since 2016, which was when we shot Songbird. There are factors at play here beyond the pandemic. It's a matter of finance, definitely, but also my priorities over the past five years. It's hard for me to even write this, but I'm scared that this drought will make my skills rusty, and I know that if I can't get back to directing larger scale shorts - and getting better at them - then I don't really have a chance in hell at successfully making the feature films I have on my list. And I'm not as young as I used to be. Thirty-two isn't old by any stretch of the imagination, but if it's taken me this long to have only directed one larger-scale short, and I want to make more and improve my skills before tackling the features I have planned... it's just a matter of maths and life-expectancy. It isn't possible.

[Above: I am now a proud Associate Member of Directors UK!]

   Rather than give up, I've had to think long and hard about everything I'm doing in my life. The pandemic actually gave me a great opportunity to reach out to more experienced industry figures, the type who wouldn't normally be available for meetings, so I had a lot of Zoom calls and got a lot of useful advice. I'm also applying for any opportunities for funding or training as a director; I'm still waiting to hear from a few of those (fingers and toes crossed!), but as a result of my applications, I am now a member of Directors UK. That's been a part of my career plan for a while, as BAFTA Crew was before, and I was surprised to hear that I'd actually been qualified for a membership for a few years now! (Darn me and my humble British nature).

   I'm also being more picky about the work that I do - at least while I can be, financially. From now on, I'm not looking for work which doesn't get me a step closer to my big career goals, or which gives me vital experience or enjoyment in a similar role. This partly extends to the clients I work with (although luckily most of my clients are awesome, more on them in a moment), but a key part of this has been stepping away from Art Department or Costume work. I pursued those careers as a way to get on set with the skills that I already had, so that I could work on film shoots from the moment I left university. It was a plan that served me well, I've loved so many of the jobs I've done and met some amazing people along the way, but it's been over ten years now - it's time to step away and focus on work that gets me useful experience as a director. It's also important that I don't take design jobs away from the people who really want them, the people who don't want to do anything else with their careers. So, unless I'm really down on my luck, I won't be pursuing any more work in that field - but I will of course honour the existing projects I'm attached to as a Production or Costume Designer, as I know there's three of those films that have been in development since before the pandemic.

  My other concern is a personal one: I'm worried about forgetting all the lessons lockdown taught me. During those difficult months, we all came back to ourselves, taking pleasure in quiet moments like walking in nature or cooking comfort food. Most importantly, we realised how much 'being together' truly meant. Since Springtime, the laws have changed and we've been able to see family and friends again, to a certain degree; and yet I've barely seen them, due to my workload. If 2020 Sophie could see 2021 Sophie, she'd be screaming, "what are you doing? You could go and see and hug your grandparents now - why aren't you there this moment?!" Life has gotten too fast again, this year is going more quickly than I'd like, and it's been a blur of editing deadlines and moving boxes. I'm excited about the next step in my career, but I also need to remember - and I'm putting this in writing for myself as much as my readers - to carry the lockdown version of myself with me at all times. Work hard, achieve goals, but also remember to see your loved ones and appreciate the smaller moments when you can.

   This blog post is getting a bit long and mushy, so I'll draw a line under the personal stuff for now (there have been sadder times recently as well as the good days, which I haven't processed properly, but I'll reflect on those at the end of the year), and instead I'll round off this entry with a quick-ish update on all my live film projects:

The client work

   For a while I've thought that, if my production company Triskelle Pictures were to offer promotional videos for clients, we should specialise in working with creative businesses. That way we could play to our strengths as well as flexing the cinematic filmmaking muscles in-between narrative film projects. That seemed like an unrealistic goal, but I'm happy to say that it's a target I've reached and maintained, even during the darker days of the pandemic. Over the past six months Triskelle has worked with a plethora of wonderful makers, including artist and author Sabrina Ward Harrison, ceramics artist April Young, and particularly Cathy Hay and her company Foundations Revealed. 

    I haven't directed a music video since August last year, but it's certainly something I'd love to do again soon. The music festival industry, previously a key client sector for Triskelle, has also been one of the hardest-hit by the effects of Lockdown and social distancing, but I hope that they can come back fighting bigger and better as we move into 2022. 

Lepidopterist and Growing Shadows

   I have two shorts on the festival circuit at the moment, and although Growing Shadows: The Poison Ivy Fan Film is nearing the end of its run, it continues to make us proud, with a near-unbroken acceptance streak. Many of the festivals that selected Growing Shadows last year had to move their festivals online, but we do have 1-2 more physical screenings to come, and I'll announce the first one as soon as I have more information. The film is also doing fantastically well on streaming platforms, having now had over 33,000 views on YouTube alone.

   Lepidopterist's festival run was similarly disrupted by the pandemic. The first lockdown gave us time to finally finish the film, but it also forced all the festivals to close their doors. We finally had our premiere at Beeston Film Festival in March this year (always a pleasure to screen with them), but again, the festival had to move online - and the crew is itching to finally share our work with audiences on a big screen. That should finally happen - touch wood - in Autumn this year, as we have two upcoming physical screenings to announce soon, one in the UK and one in the USA. In the meantime, the film has also been gaining a buzz on the awards circuit; it received two nominations at the Midlands Movies Awards (Best Editing and Best Music, winners to be announced in September), and the film took home Best Actress in a Sci-Fi, Best Supporting Actress AND Performance of the Festival at The Actors Awards Los Angeles last month! I'm over the moon for Charlie Clarke and her two big wins, but it was also so lovely to see Sarah Lamesch awarded too, as she starred in one of my first ever directorial shorts, Ashes, way back in 2012.

   Film Festivals are a never-ending learning curve, and I have a lot more new advice to share off the back of these films, as well as from Songbird's festival run, so expect a new blog post focussing on festival tips for genre films in the coming months.

The Barn (Working Title)

   One of the reasons I haven't directed a film in two years is that I've been putting all my eggs in one basket - and it was a colossal, barn-shaped basket! I genuinely believe that The Barn - a fantasy thriller that visualises the fears of an expectant father - is the best story concept I've ever had, it's probably the best script myself and Tommy and I have written together, and although it's an ambitious project, it felt like the next logical step after Songbird, so I threw all my weight at it after that film was finished. 

   The script did well at festivals and script competitions (most recently, it was a finalist for Best Unproduced Short Screenplay at the amazing FilmQuest in May), and everyone I've met with has said how much they loved the concept and wanted to see the film made. But ambitious projects aren't cheap - it would cost at least £35,000 to make the film, and even then we'd be penny-pinching in all departments. Shorts aren't investment pieces, so getting the funding was difficult even before the pandemic hit, and then it became impossible.

   At the start of this year, we decided to scale back and make more of a 'proof of concept' version of the film, still containing the film's key elements and many striking visual set pieces, but whittling down to one location. We wrote a script that I was still proud of, renamed it Tokos, and came close to pre-production in early Spring this year. But budgetary concerns reared their ugly heads again - it still wasn't a cheap film to make - and also the film's producer had to step away and focus on her larger commitments (all of which sound very exciting, and I wish her the best of luck as she had been lovely to work with). These two factors left the project floating without an oar.

   Difficult decision number three of this blog post. I had spent five years developing this project, which I was wholly passionate about, and I hadn't got on set or improved my director skills much during that time as a result. The film was no closer to getting made and had now lost a vital member of the team. How long would I keep pursuing it, keeping everything else on hold in the meantime? Readers, I really didn't want to do it, but I've had to shelf The Barn - at least for now. It's not so much pulling the plug as putting a pin in the project, in the hope that something will change and we can come back to it in the future.

   The Barn/ Tokos/ whatever you want to call it, is not dead. I still believe in its merit and I still want to make it. There's also a lifeline in the fact that, believe it or not, it might be easier to get funding for the film if it were feature-length - if we can fill in the gaps and stretch the material out to at least ninety pages. In the meantime, I need to get back on set before I mentally shrivel up any further, and I need to keep improving my skills. So that means making something smaller in the coming months...

Room 515 (working title - again!)

   So I'll reveal more about this project and who's involved in it another time - partly because the subject nature needs to be handled with care, and also because I'm aware this post is getting super long - but in a nutshell, Room 515 is a tender drama film with an important message. Not only am I working with some brilliant filmmakers and organisations in the development of the film, but the film's minimal scale (two lead actors and mostly one location) means I can focus on character moments and crafting visuals to the best of my ability, similar to the way we made Night Owls in 2014. Essentially I'll be getting back to the basics of directing after some time away, but that doesn't mean I'll be taking it easy! I want to do the best job I possibly can, I want to practice and grow in the process, and there's some incredible talent attached to the film that I'm so excited to work with (and learn from) on set. Tommy's written the script again, it's probably his best work, but he's also teamed up with the wonderful Z. Igbe, who has brought a much-treasured fresh perspective to the last couple of drafts.

   Room 515 does require funding, but it's a smaller project and hopefully more achievable, so watch this space. If I can avoid coming to you all cap in hand (virtually) again, then I will!

[Above: Rob Sharp & Charlie Clarke on the set of Good Grief. Photo by Jane Webb]

Good Grief

   I haven't been on set myself recently, but I was able to help get another brilliant crew onto one, and that has been such a rewarding feeling. Last year I announced that I was going to Executive Produce Sirloin Films' Good Grief, because I loved the concept but knew I didn't have time to commit to it as a full-time producer. I've been overseeing the project's development ever since, and Director/Writer/Producer Rob Sharp is full of heart and always eager to absorb knowledge, even when I'm nagging him about risk assessment etiquette and the like, so it's been a privilege to help him along this journey. My regular collaborator Charlie Clarke took the role of co-producer during pre-production, having already been on board as 1st AD, so I knew the project was in safe hands. (Yes this is the same Charlie who just won all those acting awards for Lepidopterist, because she's a multi-tasking wonder woman!)

   The film finally went into production last month, and although I was a little jealous not to be there with them, the behind-the-scenes photos tell a great story - and I've had a sneak preview of some beautiful rushes, too! The film's diverse cast have given us some stunning performances, and I know that this is going to be a beautiful and moving film. Post-production has started now, and I'm so excited for you all to see the finished result. 

   So that's everything I have on my plate at the moment. There's no updates for the Night Owls feature ('Night Owls & Early Birds') or anything else right now, but I'm hoping to return to some older scripts on quieter Sundays as part of my new schedule, so maybe I can push those a bit more in the near future.

[Above: meeting Ray Harryhausen's skeletons. I'm very bedraggled and wearing a mask, but this photo - taken by Edward - still means the world]

   I've got a big week of edits and meetings coming up - and maybe more work off the back of those meetings - and I don't quite know how to fit it all in, but I'm not complaining. Who knows what the future will hold, but right now things are secure and steady, and life is good. I'm doing the best that I can by my clients, but also taking time out to feel refreshed and inspired, for example by taking regular trips to the cinema or to a certain exhibition (more from that on my Instagram feed now, and also in this video that Edward has just released).

   Change has arrived. It's intimidating but I'm here for it, and I'm ready to make up for time lost over the past months (maybe even longer). I'll keep you all updated along the way, and I hope I can make you proud. I'll try and make myself proud, too.

Sophie