The Silver Screen...

by Cal

"We're going to make a short film. Would you like to help?"

It seemed such a simple proposition, on that fateful FONT Thursday. A few hours, a couple of weekends, and there it would be, a fascinating little short, just like the ones that Channel 4 uses to fill those awkward slots when they can't quite muster up enough adverts. Of course I said yes, causing Elaine, who has given me many patient lectures on the subject of "Saying No to Persuasive Fans who Offer Interesting Little Projects", to moan in quiet despair and finally give me up as a lost cause.

SMS, who I suspect could sell central heating in Death Valley should he feel so inclined, had persuaded a huge number of people to take part in this exercise, which was rapidly assuming the proportions of one of Cecil B de Mille's more elaborate projects. Story ideas began flying about: on paper, via e-mail, down the pub... Those who had managed to stay clear so far started to mutter darkly about the limited range of conversations to be had with a lot of Manchester fans.

There is a standard technique for making a short film - pick a simple story or theme which is suited to your budget, script and storyboard it, then shoot it over as brief a period as possible. There is another approach though, if you're feeling brave and your nerves can stand it. Pick a BIG subject, write a long and complex outline with plenty of deep philosophical interludes. Then pick your setting. Contemporary is so dull, futuristic dates quickly; a historical setting will do nicely. Location shooting adds atmosphere. Film it over an uncertain period, with most of the 21st century reserved for filming any extra bits that seem like a good idea at the time... Guess which method we went for.

After appearing in small roles in a play ("Captain Tartan Saves the World Again") at Eastercon, I thought that film acting, by comparison, would be much simpler. After all I'd get the chance to do scenes over and over again, and the audience would only get to see my best effort. This idea did not work out in practice. My character has a northern accent, something my Surrey childhood left me woefully ill-equipped for. In desperation I developed a technique of cornering someone who had the right kind of accent and then forcing them to teach me my dialogue, line by line, as though they were training a slightly retarded parrot. I have now made a solemn vow never to criticise an actor's accent in any production (but I have a special dispensation for Dick van Dyke). On a stage I found that long speeches which you could rattle off with no interruptions were much easier to learn than one part of a conversation. On film, with an accent, I think that silent movies have a lot to teach us.

Sets and special effects are a nightmare. I suggested the bit with the awl and the cardboard, even though I know I have very little manual dexterity, so I can't really blame anyone else for the fact that I stabbed myself. Climbing ladders by candle light in a floor-length skirt is not recommended, especially not when you tempt fate by doing umpteen retakes. On reflection, I feel that "pub" scenes shot in a semi-derelict barn scheduled for redevelopment, would go with much more of a swing if someone had actually brought any alcohol (it was 10 pm, in the middle of winter - next time I want a character who gets to wear a coat). Museum recreations of authentic nineteenth century scenes contain an amazing number of electric lights, cables, fire buckets and safety notices; it often causes problems with the staff if you try covering them up, so "Claudia Plank", ably assisted by her personal minder, Mike Hubbard, had a starring role in a lot of scenes. I have a new phobia - if anyone knows a posh classical name for a morbid fear of being locked in a working museum for the night, then I'd be interested to hear it.

Filming is a strange experience. Watching yourself is even stranger. It's amazing what impressive results you can achieve with a lot of people milling about, the contents of half the charity shops in Manchester and SMS's prized rotten vegetable collection (honest).