Category: FILM

  • Iain Sinclair helps retrace poet’s journey for new documentary

    The cast of By Our Selves
    By Our Selves cast, taken using a pin-hole camera. Photograph: Andrew Kotting

    History remembers John Clare as a troubled ‘peasant poet’, an obsessive romantic-era wordsmith who penned more than three and a half thousand pieces over 70 years. He wrote, among other things, about the subtle wonders of the natural world and how the land enclosures of his time frustrated his experience thereof.

    Born to a labourer in Helpston, Northampton, he was a rambler, a man of the fields. In 1841, after a four-year stint of fairly benevolent internment in a progressive Epping Forest asylum, he trudged 80 miles home – almost four days with no food and not a penny to his name. In the weeks that followed, he wrote a manic prose account of his ‘Journey Out Of Essex’, a document of memory and delusion, loss and longing.

    Hackney-based writer and chronic walker Iain Sinclair echoed the poet’s infamous trek for his 2005 book Edge of the Orison. It was an escape from his eternal circuit of the M25 (London Orbital). He recently convinced his artist-filmmaker friend Andrew Kötting to take a camera to the route and make something more of Clare’s terrible journey. The result is By Our Selves, a hazy, Herzogian work in progress starring Toby Jones and his father, Freddie.

    Having raised £20,345 through a Kickstarter crowdfunding campaign, the film previewed at Hackney Picturehouse last month and is a welcome addition to a growing field of work in response to Clare’s life.

    “I guess in a way the credit for the film should be given to Iain,” says Kötting. “He started badgering me a couple of years ago. He suggested that perhaps we could make a film around his book Edge of the Orison, and I’d read it and in fact it was one of my favourite Sinclair books. It was the first book I’d read of his where he was digging into the autobiographical.”

    He explains that on revisiting the text, he was beguiled by an image of a man in a suit holding a rope attached to a straw bear, a ritual that Sinclair sheds light on before the preview.

    “Somebody dresses up as a shamanic straw bear,” he says, “and they dance around the pubs of Whittlesey, a brick-making town, and then on the second morning they burn the bear. Andrew suddenly thought that if he performed as the straw bear and he accompanied John Clare on the road it would be really interesting, and from that moment he was right up for it. That defined the film.”

    Beach Eden
    Still from By Our Selves

    A feverishly experimental documentary, By Our Selves sees Jones, Kötting and Sinclair ghosting through a middle-English landscape of hedgerows and wind farms, with Sinclair – dark-suited and goat-masked – reading excerpts from Clare’s journal.

    Fragments of sound from other films and recordings add to a hallucinatory atmosphere. “John Clare was a minor nature poet who went mad,” flickers throughout.

    It’s a stunning piece built on connections, coincidence and déjà vu – an introverted work, with Jones, as the poet, silent, given a voice by his real-life father’s trembling renditions.

    Sinclair, whose book details his own significant links to Clare, explains: “The interesting thing was that Toby’s father, Freddie Jones, this terrific actor, had acted John Clare on TV in 1970. Toby was four years old and his father was playing John Clare and his mother Mrs Clare, and of course he goes off into an asylum in the end and Toby was freaked out by this.

    “I think out of respect for what his father had done he wanted to take part. So the father and son are haunting each other… There were very strong connections and all these things came into play as we went along the road.”

    Kötting elaborates: “We hatched this idea that Toby wouldn’t have to say anything, he would just be with us and he would be ventriloquised by his dad. That only came about because I went and met Freddie with Iain and he was so enthusiastic about the project. We got him to read ‘Journey Out Of Essex’, so we had a voice that could possess a younger John Clare.

    “It’s that duality you get throughout the film, you know, the father and son, the heaven and the earth, the human versus the animal – there are lots of dualities at work in the piece.”

    Kötting is a rare breed of filmmaker. While he’s an eccentric performer, a larger-than-life, frenetic comedian, the spaces in which his films unfold are, on the surface, quieter and more tranquil – but no less mysterious: the River Thames in Swandown, the Pyrenees in the beautiful This Our Still Life. He cuts a fine balance between contemplative poetry and absurdist hilarity, unearthing a strange energy wherever he goes.

    Of his roving approach to gathering material, Kötting says: “I’ve often felt that it’s such an easy way of doing things and it flies in the face of structures. What I find is, as with Iain’s writing, you turn the page and you could end up in Africa, or contemplating land enclosures, next thing you’re at a funeral, you know, you’ve no idea where you might be from one page to the next.”

    Although humour has “infested” much of Kötting’s work, this latest piece, he explains, is perhaps his most emotional and pensive film to date. “I made the decision in the edit suite to try and coax out the spookiness. Ultimately it became a far more tense, melancholic drift of a piece than I imagined it would have done, and a lot of that is given over to trying to enter into the mindset of John Clare. I don’t think he was a happy man – he was always battling his demons.”

    That’s not to say there’s no trace of his signature comedy: a conversation between Sinclair and graphic novelist Alan Moore, musing on a Northampton life, is laugh-out-loud hilarious; so, too, is the moment a passer-by on a mobility scooter is told, on enquiring, that they’re filming John Clare. “That’s not John Clare,” he cries, aghast.

    Ultimately, though, By Our Selves is a serious and successful film about following the footsteps of an obscure literary figure, confronting madness, the politics of the English countryside and a whole lot more. It’s another curious collaboration between two of the UK’s most interesting artists, forever tramping the ley lines.

    @byourselves_

  • Hackney playwright’s murder musical to be made into film

    Anita Dobson as June in London Road
    Anita Dobson as June in London Road

    Hackney-based playwright Alecky Blythe is one of the UK’s leading verbatim theatre practitioners, with her plays created from real dialogue and real life events. Last year she used it to great effect in Little Revolution, about the London Riots. Now she is involved in a film adaptation of her greatest triumph to date, the acclaimed musical London Road, about the serial murders of five sex workers in Ipswich in 2006.

    What drew you to this dark story?
    At the time I was collecting material for my film The Girlfriend Experience – the women were saying I should go to Ipswich, because that’s where the story was. Eventually I did, in case I found anything I could use. It was so interesting, so dynamic. It was an extraordinary time that people just wanted to talk about. For ages the material sat on my shelf. I returned for the trial 18 months later to gauge the temperature, and that’s when I found out about London Road in Bloom, a flower competition residents were running. My focus then became specific, and London Road became central to the story. It was one that hadn’t yet been told, about a community coming together to heal itself.

    What you do on the stage is very innovative. How does it translate to film?
    The big challenge is that film is more visual. Verbatim is by its nature wordy, so it was my intention to consciously pick up active material on the street. I spoke to people when they were shopping, or at work, though I still did have to invent scenes and create a different type of stage direction. In film, viewers want to indulge their visual sense, so I tried to tackle that.

    How important was it to you that the killer had no part in the film?
    I didn’t want that to be the focus. I wasn’t asking about him or the women in my interviews; verbatim isn’t gossip, it’s about how people are affected. I wanted to know what it was like living on the same street as a serial killer, and people responded well to that. They didn’t want to talk about sensationalist stuff, they just wanted to offload.

    Why do you think music works so well in London Road?
    I’d always wanted to make a musical. In my play Cruising, there’s a scene where a couple dance a waltz to Stevie Wonder. It’s such a relief from all the talking, and it gave me the idea to make a verbatim piece with music for release. Later, I attended a workshop at the National Theatre with several writers and composers. I took some stuff to experiment with – material I’d collected at the time of the Ipswich murders. The composer Adam Cork and I just found that music worked so well with the interviews of scared women and chivalrous men. They were bitty and fragmented, but the music glued them together and enriched the subject matter. Adam was so brilliant, so forensic with the detail that there was a real joy in the challenge of lifting the speech. We found originality in the patterns.

    How do you think people endure this kind of event?
    Through coming together. Cultural and social boundaries don’t matter in an extraordinary situation. Friendship and connecting in a shared experience is what got them through. The people of Ipswich dared to go out and found that, through awful circumstances, they connected. It’s a commonality in all my work.

    What do you hope viewers take away from this?
    Ultimately it is uplifting. There’s a bittersweet ending. These people now have friendship and each other, and a community that looks out for them. I want viewers to take away the power of community.

    recordeddelivery.net

  • Bromance explores male intimacy on the streets of Shoreditch

    Bromance
    Wrapped up in each other: a still from Bromance

    Running for just two minutes and 53 seconds, Bromance might seem like a challenge to write about, but it’s not.

    This strange film from photographer-cum-director Bertil Nilsson is packed with ideas and style.

    The piece opens with three male friends meeting in a grey East London street. They shake hands and proceed to wrap themselves around one another, entwining their arms and tangling their bodies together.

    This obscure warm-up routine sees the characters exploring each other’s personal space with complete trust and comfort, both of which are pivotal to what follows.

    With the thump of ‘One Loopy Beat’ by Mikaël Bres rising from the hushed sounds of city traffic, we join the half-naked trio in a brilliantly lit and high-ceilinged kitchen as they practise daring acrobatic feats, boldly reimagining the limits of domestic space.

    Played by members of the Barely Methodical Troupe – an experimental circus group – the artists communicate their closeness through movement and contact; Nilsson notches up the volume as flesh slaps against flesh so that every contact is heard and felt.

    As the pace increases, the camera returns to the streets where the leads come tumbling in twists and somersaults along the pavement, helped along by each other’s physical gestures of friendship and support.

    Amongst all the fun of the high-energy tricks and manoeuvres, a poetic thread runs throughout. Nilsson’s work looks at the body and what it can do and say in unfamiliar environments. The shots are gorgeous and the emotional delivery utterly unique.

    Half music video and half abstract documentary, Bromance is a cool, sensitive short film about friendship and intimacy – it’s like nothing before it.

    Bromance from Bertil Nilsson on Vimeo.

  • ‘No stunts and no stupid stuff’: Clapton director has no nonsense approach to filmmaking

    Mark Abraham
    In the Blood filmmaker Mark Abraham

    In The Blood is Hackney filmmaker Mark Abraham’s first feature length film, and it wasn’t easy to get off the ground.

    The story follows young drug addict Johnny (Joe Cole) who is kidnapped by a criminal gang and taken to an isolated farmhouse, where he is forced to crack open a safe using skills taught to him by the gang’s former safecracker, his deceased grandfather.

    Abraham says: “It took about five years to get together. It was hard. Raising the money was difficult and getting everything together was difficult too. I’d never done it before, so I was learning on the job, trying to piece it all together.”

    With influences ranging from American crime films such as The French Connection to French classics A Prophet and Mesrine, Abraham was determined to make something different from a typical British crime film.

    “I wanted to do a more European kind of crime film,” he explains. “I wanted to do something a bit more real – a film with a story rather than stupid people doing stupid stuff.”

    Featuring some of Britain’s finest acting talent such as Mike Leigh regulars Alison Steadman and Phil Davis, it is surprising that the film was made on such a low budget.

    “It cost under £150,000. We had problems that we had to overcome in a different way. We paid everybody across the whole board the same amount of money,” says Abraham.

    The film was shot in Abraham’s hometown of Dunstable too, which kept the costs down. They had to make the most of what was available to them.

    “We had to do something low on cost, high on drama. No stunts and no stupid stuff,” adds Abraham.

    Although his first feature film, Abraham has experience working with some of Hollywood’s top directors – the likes of Christopher Nolan, Guy Ritchie and Cary Fukunaga.

    Getting to work on films such as The Dark Knight, Sherlock Holmes and Jane Eyre has been invaluable experience for Abraham: “You can’t pay for those kinds of experiences. To see Hollywood directors first hand, how they make a movie – it was the best education you could have.”

    Despite the challenges he faced making his first feature, Abraham is proud – rather than relieved – now the film is finished.

    For crime film aficionados (or even young directors looking to make their first film), In the Blood is certainly worth a look and has been confirmed to be screened at the Rooftop film club in Peckham on 15 June at 9pm.

    inthebloodfilm.com

  • Jem Cohen: ‘By some standards I’m kind of invisible’

    Hunk
    Portrait of Jem Cohen

    In a small screen at the back of the Whitechapel Gallery, a group of keen cinephiles awaits the address of Jem Cohen, a veteran New York-based filmmaker who has made more than 70 idiosyncratic works over three fruitful decades on the job. It’s an early part of a two-month retrospective entitled Compass and Magnet, with events also taking place at the Barbican and Hackney Picturehouse.

    Cohen has produced diary films, city portraits, essay films and collaborated with an extraordinary list of musicians – crossing and blending disciplines with pioneering spirit. On this occasion he’s introducing Museum Hours, perhaps his most accessible and well-known work to date.

    “You can walk into a museum and in its way it can miss,” he tells us. “Something has to come together, things have to meet…”

    And they do. The film is a subtle and moving expression of enormous ambition. Ideas about time, image, memory, art, artefact, displacement, friendship, experience, history and much more, are hung on a sweet narrative thread that runs through the corridors of the Kunsthistorisches Museum and out into the streets of Vienna.

    The following evening, Cohen takes leave of an East End pub to chat for an hour. He tells me more about the film: “It refuses to follow certain rules about what a narrative is and how a narrative is supposed to function, and it insists that the environment, the locations, the ideas and the characters are all equally important.”

    This kind of approach is indicative of Cohen’s dedication to making films that don’t lock into one specific form; Museum Hours is particularly interesting in this regard.

    Arriving in an unfamiliar city to tend the bedside of a dying cousin, Anne (Mary Margaret O’Hara) is comforted by a chance meeting with a kind museum attendant (Bobby Sommer). One would be forgiven for expecting a romance, but as the lure of familiar storytelling takes hold, Cohen quickly pulls it away and the piece shatters into something far more interesting: a strange hybrid of documentary and fiction that’s both affecting and real.

    Those familiar with Cohen’s wider body of work will recognise the importance of music, which is heavily hinted at in the casting of musician O’Hara, whose character sings quietly but crucially.

    Museum Hours. Jem Cohen. Photograph: Mark
    Jem Cohen filming Museum Hours in Vienna. Photograph: Mark

    “Music has always been absolutely vital to me since I was a little kid, but I’m not a musician so I had to find other ways to get at musical experience,” he says. “I’m often inspired as much by music, painting or poetry as I am by other cinema, but I also think it’s something that film can aspire to – it can be a kind of music.”

    He goes on: “It’s something that’s woven into our lives – it doesn’t have to be something that only celebrities get to do. There are a lot of people who sing in their kitchens and might sing very beautifully, but we’ll never get to hear them. It’s the act of doing it that might help them to be in the world, and I think that’s very much what’s happening with Mary’s character in the film.”

    This elevation of the finer details permeates much of Cohen’s work and is a particularly key element of his observations of the city – whichever city that may be.

    “I just feel strongly that there is always a city that is entirely separate from the one tourists are led to, and that goes for any city,” he says. “In terms of Vienna, I was just reflecting my experience, going on random walks and tube rides, or opening the door of an unknown bar and stumbling onto one of the film’s most important locations.”

    Raised first in Kabul and then Washington DC, Cohen moved to New York in the mid-80s, “when it was just at the tail end of a very rough period”, he explains. “It’s problematic to romanticise a city that is in rough shape in terms of crime and infrastructure falling apart. But there was a sense of mystery and possibility that had to do with people of all kinds going to New York to be able to have some freedom.”

    He continues: “It’s kind of a great dark magnet throughout history where people could get away from parochial, predictable circumstances and enter into this sort of wild place.”

    He then draws a comparison between the rise of real estate in New York and the current property crisis in London. But he is quick to stress the resilience of cities like these – both of which he is very fond.

    Jem Cohen filming Museum Hours. Photograph: Paolo
    Jem Cohen filming Museum Hours. Photograph: Paolo

    “New York, when I ride the subway, is still an incredible mix of people and that’s what makes it an interesting place above all. And I feel the same way about London. I don’t see that they are really going to able to scrub New York and London entirely clean, but god damn they will try.”

    There is passion and sensitivity in almost everything Cohen says, and he delivers his thoughts with care and precision. With this in mind, it seemed strange that the Guardian should describe him as somebody who categorically “hates indie films”.

    “I don’t hate indie films,” he says. “‘Indie’ is just one of those words that has become sort of meaningless – it’s not about something that one needs to hate, it’s more about it not meaning anything. It’s like using the word ‘alternative’ in regard to music – it just doesn’t have any particular concrete value anymore to say that.”

    And what if people want to call his films indie? “My filmmaking is done as far from commercial Hollywood as possible, but I haven’t been part of the Sundance world either. So by some standards I’m kind of invisible. But if you keep at it for 25, 30 years and make 70 films, sooner or later people realise you’re there. I don’t really care that much what people call it – if they need to call it indie then that’s not a big deal.”

    And finally, I ask, why call the season Compass and Magnet?

    “The main reason is that it amused me because I’m lost all the time,” he says. “For someone who travels a lot and films all the time, it’s just kind of funny and absurd that I am so poor with directions. And magnet of course is just because the basic premise of doing one’s work is to find out what things in the world call out and what things one is attracted to – what things stick.”

    Jem Cohen: Compass and Magnet is at the Whitechapel Gallery, the Barbican and Hackney Picturehouse until 28 May.

    barbican.org.uk
    whitechapelgallery.org
    picturehouses.com/cinema/Hackney_Picturehouse

     

  • Footage of Hackney wanted for Open Cinema project

    OPen Cinema members
    Budding filmmakers: Open Cinema contributors outside the Rose Lipman Building. Photograph: Open School East

    A cinema project is making a public appeal for old photographs, film or footage of Hackney.

    Open Cinema has been running since March and is part of community arts organisation Open School East. Under the tutelage of artist Neil Cummings, local film enthusiasts have been learning how collect, digitalise and edit film, as well as receive training in camera use, audio recording and programming.

    Last month Open Cinema invited the public to bring any footage they have of Hackney to the Rose Lipman Building in a mass sharing event.

    Another session is planned for Saturday 9 May, with all the footage to be used as material for a two-day cinema event in October centred on Hackney.

    Mike Brooks, General Manager of Open School East, says the project is a lot more than a “bog standard archive project about making the past come alive”.

    “It’s speaking more to the present,” he says. “It feels far more issue based. We’ve had footage of the squatting movement in the 1980s and some other really rich and interesting stuff.

    “There are old markets that we never knew existed, things that haven’t changed at all and things that have changed completely. It’s really resonant.”

    Brooks says the public response so far has been good, and that the finished piece will be a form of mass sharing and mass story telling, adding: “The more co-owned it is the better.”

    openschooleast.org

  • Secret Cinema defends price hike for The Empire Strikes Back

    Secret Cinema – Empire Strikes Back 620

    Secret Cinema has hit back over the cost of tickets for this summer’s immersive screening of Star Wars: The Emperor Strikes Back.

    Tickets for the sci-fi blockbuster, which will be screened in a secret London location for two months from 4 June, cost £75, compared with £53.50 to see last year’s screening of Back to the Future.

    One Star Wars fan taking to Twitter called the price hike “daylight robbery”, though Secret Cinema’s founder and creative director Fabien Riggall points out that the extra cost is due to the grander-than-ever scale of the project.

    “This is a film that’s loved by millions of people and the scale of what we have to create to fuel that love is of such magnitude that the production costs have gone up and everything’s gone up,” he said.   

    “These things really do cost a lot of money to put on. And also to secure the buildings and the space and the environments that fit the film.

    “What’s been frustrating is that the whole idea of it is that we want to keep it a secret. I find it heartbreaking that I have to explain all of this because it takes a bit of the mystery out, but at the same time I want to be transparent.”

    Secret Cinema has also fended off allegations about the payment of its ensemble cast members, following the discovery of an advert, apparently from 2010, which suggested they were only paid expenses.

    “We have paid our ensemble cast ever since Secret Cinema has started,” said Riggall. “It’s completely inaccurate, and I’ve been trying to locate how that [advert] came about. What we do is highly complicated so for people to say that we don’t pay our staff or pay our actors is … I find it amazing that they would think that.”

    Tickets for Secret Cinema Presents: The Empire Strikes Back are currently on sale, with some of the dates already sold out.

  • Hackney’s Finest – film review: an endearingly silly crime caper

    Arin Alldridge as Priestly in Hackney's Finest
    Arin Alldridge as Priestly in Hackney’s Finest

    Do you remember Ritchie­mania? There was a time, nearly 20 years ago (seriously!) that the Guy Ritchie brand of cheeky Cockney crime caper successfully rejuvenated the British gangster genre and had the world spellbound – and for good reason.

    Hackney’s Finest is clearly in awe of that cinematic moment. But while Lock, Stock and Snatch were a ‘Cool Britannia’ riff on Tarantino’s alternate dimension America, director Chris Bouchard’s first full ­length feature trades in on the infamous reputation of a real London borough, right down to a cringey namecheck in the final line. In part it’s an exaggerated reflection of writer Thorin Seex’s own observations of Hackney’s grittier side, but shot through with an endearingly silly vibe.

    Things kick off promisingly enough; local smack dealer and all round reckless geezer Sirus (Nathanael Wiseman) has got himself a nice gig working in a cabbie’s office and dealing on the side (note: Hackney’s Finest gleefully treats drug abuse with all the gravity of having a Mars bar).

    But things go pear­-shaped when vengeful copper Priestley (played with snarling relish by Arin Alldridge) hatches a plot to stitch up our dozey hero. Holed up in a deserted warehouse in Tilbury Docks with two Welsh-Jamaican arms dealers (Enoch Frost and Marlon G. Day grappling with some truly ridiculous patois), an Afghan smackhead and his moody/deadly sister, Sirus and co. find themselves under siege from the bent feds and their private army of drugged­up Russian gangsters with a fondness for European techno. Needless to say, a night of mayhem swiftly unfolds, all delivered with a knowing nod and wink.

    For a low budget indie movie, Hackney’s Finest is a hell of a looker. Bouchard worked with Soho’s Framestore, the digital studio that put the fairy dust into Alfonso Cuaron’s Oscar­ gobbling Gravity, and the results are frequently stunning. There’s a slick, crisp look to the whole affair that belies its home­grown roots, backed up by some nice moments of cinematography and punchy editing.

    Sadly though, all the polishing in the world can’t rescue what, at heart, is a paint-by-­numbers gangster knockabout that starts to drag far too early. On one level, Hackney’s Finest’s cast of 2D stereotypes is something of a love letter to multicultural London, but the substituting of real characters for bombastic accents soon starts to grate. It’s all a bit Borat, without the intelligence.

    Then again, there’s really no point in getting po­-faced about a film like this; it knows exactly what it is, and has no delusions otherwise. Bear this in mind and there’s a fair bit of fun to be had, from the gorgeous visuals to gunfights galore and a smattering of humorous dialogue. Just don’t be expecting Lock, Stock for a new generation.

    Hackney’s Finest is released on 3 April
    hackneymovie.com

  • Celeb-studded new film is set in a parallel East London world

    Setting the film world alight: Sergio Delgado, BenCharlesEdwards and James Hatt
    Film firebrands: Sergio Delgado, Ben Charles Edwards and James Hatt

    “I get such a thrill from thinking about devastation. Sometimes I like to think that one day this will all be gone,” says Hackney-based filmmaker Ben Charles Edwards.

    His latest film, Set The Thames on Fire, is the darkly comic story of Art and Sal, who live in a dream-like London of huge sparkling stars and shifting alleyways, full of danger and adventure. It stars Noel Fielding, Sally Phillips, and Michael Winder and Max Bennett as Art and Sal, respectively. The film is not just about the city but about friendship too, says Edwards.

    “Cities come and go and walls fall. And do you know what? The first thing you’re going to think of is not your belongings – it’s the person that’s closest to you.”

    The script, written with his friend Al Joshua, was partly based on their time living together in Shoreditch.

    “The film is true to East London. They’re all familiar places – they’re just set in another world. A lot of the locations are in Hackney and Shoreditch,” says Edwards.

    Living in a tall townhouse in Shoreditch, Edwards and Joshua used to sit on their flat roof overlooking the city. They would hold parties, have friends over and chat every night.

    From this emerged the idea for the film of two boys living in East London, surrounded by friends and lurid East London characters.

    “These characters never change,” says Edwards. “There is a blessing with never feeling comfortable or secure in a particular environment because you’re always going to be forced to move on or find something else to get some enjoyment from.”

    It is this idea of feeling uncomfortable that is the key to understanding the film. “It’s a story of not fitting in in a dark world,” Edwards says.

    The world of the film appears at once familiar and unfamiliar; Edwards took inspiration from the slums of the East End and fictional slums such as the Jago. It is in this world that Art and Sal find themselves, encountering characters such as the deranged Dickie – played by Fielding.

    Edwards adds: ‘They’re just two guys who moved in together and discovered each other and how to live in a dark environment and a dark world – as London and any city can appear at times when you’re trying to live and make a living. Al and I never had any money at all, could never eat properly – they were dark times, and looking back it was friendship that got us through it. Set the Thames On Fire is a story about friendship and hope in a dark environment.’

    Set The Thames On Fire is being produced by Sadie Frost’s production company Blonde to Black Pictures and will be released later this year.

  • Hackney filmmaker wins Oscar for short film The Phone Call

    Mat Kirkby (left) and James Lucas (right) celebrate backstage with their Oscars. Photograph: Twitter
    Winners: Mat Kirkby (left) and James Lucas (right) celebrate backstage with their Oscars. Photograph: Twitter

    Hackney filmmaker James Lucas is celebrating winning his first Oscar.

    The Phone Call, which Lucas produced and wrote alongside his friend Mat Kirkby, is the moving story of a woman working for a crisis helpline who tries to persuade a pensioner from a suicide attempt following the death of his wife.

    The film, which stars Sally Hawkins and Jim Broadbent, won Best Live Action Short Film, with Lucas, who lives in London Fields, saying the moment the film won was “the best night of my life”.

    “How can you better than that? It was just an incredible experience, very moving, very exciting and just a beautiful experience,” said Lucas, on the phone from LA.

    In an interview last year with the East End Review, Lucas said that after Hawkins accepted the role, the project went on hold for ten months until she had finished filming Blue Jasmine.

    Then ironically, Jim Broadbent joined the cast just two days later. “You get someone like Jim Broadbent straight away because he would love to do it opposite Sally,” said Lucas.

    After an eccentric acceptance speech by Kirkby, in which he referred to the awards as “big buggers” and talked about doughnuts, the filmmakers paid tribute to their mums, and to the film crew, who worked for free on the film.

    The pair also spoke of their ambitions to make feature films in the future, with them both hoping to attract the attention of Hollywood producers for new feature scripts.

    A move to LA could even be on the cards for Lucas, who was born in New Zealand though has lived in London for 15 years.

    “We’re exploring all opportunities and if the right thing was put in front of me you never know, though Hackney will always remain in my heart.”

    Read about one of James Lucas’s latest projects here: http://www.eastendreview.co.uk/2014/12/16/bohemian-motorcycle-club/