Memories from a year of film travelling

As the year quickly comes to an end, I find myself recollecting some of the biggest memories of this intense and wild year I had. A year mostly spent furthering my career and fulfilling goals mostly based around film, filmmaking and most prominently film festivals and events. Therefore, turn of events have me living in Prague, where I am currently planning the edit to a short film that will premiere in February, and writing an autobiographical novel in which I recount the vast majority of the events that I experienced.

 

In the hope to gather some interest and publicity, I decided to edit some anecdoted to a form that would suit the CineCola website as a teaser. But this is also a thank you for anyone that has read my stuff this past year. I am delighted to say that the work is paying off and this little website of mine which by the way I am the only one writing for has almost reached 10,000 unique views a month and along with FRED Film Radio and other side projects has really helped shape a good, solid rep for me and my work.

 

So, without further ado...here are three of the events that will be featured in my novel that I hope to have finished by the end of my Prague daysand published sometime throughout the year. Enjoy!

I started off the year with a bang, boom, crash and a broken heart as my girlfriend and I split up near Christmas Day because that's what you do nowadays. I battled the heartbreak by sleeping three or four hours a night, binge watching films at the video library and meeting amazing filmmakers such as Luis Minarro, Anup Singh, Rick Prelinger, Jon Jost and David Mackenzie. At night I would drink Grolsch, write obsessively and occasionally even send my ex an e-mail that would be readily ignored, god bless her.

 

One night, I think it might have been one of the last nights, I was particularly drunk and stepped inside a David Lynch setting at the centre where most festival activities were taking place - De Doelean.

 

In the downstairs area they would normally host parties every night, some of which were strange for a festival setting and possibly more suited to an Irish pub in a countryside village, which coincidentally is the kind of place where I spent most of my adolescence.

 

On this particular night in question, it was a speech karaoke, something I had never come across in my life and sadly haven't come across since. The rules of the game were very simple, people would step up to the stage that had been neatly set up, and stand at a podium reciting famous speeches from history, films or even poetry. I got twisted earlier than usual and having finished my work enjoyed my alcohol soaked self by sitting back and paying tribute to the madness of the overall experience, which as I was to find out would get a lot weirder.

 

This man took to the stage, a thin man with an almost shaved head and a beard stepped up and recited a Hitler speech, one from the Nuremberg Rallies in which he addressed the German cause. What struck me was the motion and the passion with which the man spoke fully immersed in the character, and getting the timing perfectly right as well as including all the physicality and theatricality of the evil charisma of the German dictator. Now, one more thing that should be said is that there was only a few people in the big room of De Doelean at this point, and as I found myself listening and watching intently at the scene, I thought about how surreal it all was.

 

I was in Rotterdam for the first time in my life, had met some great people, was currently drunk on Grolsch and here I was listening to a man recite a Hitler speech in an almost deserted and brightly lit room at a major film festival. I embraced the madness of the situation, and took it as a christening of sorts, which gladly took my mind off my former sweetheart and got me excited about the future ahead.

This New Zealand film about a group of vampires shot in the vein of the Office and comedy mockumentaries was one of the festival darlings of this festival season. Most festivals I personally attended had included it in the programme, and it was always one of the most popular screenings. I myself found the film pretty delightful and funny in many ways. Very often, festival programmes lack a comedic bite, therefore I treasured this viewing delightfully.

 

I had an interview with the cast and the filmmaker in Berlin the day after watching the movie and couldn't wait. Actually, this would be one of the last interviews from the Berlinale, and I was pretty damn excited about it - which is why I wanted it to be special. Having always been somewhat of a fan of late night shows from American TV, I thought I would dedicate the first part of the interview with the cast - Jonathan Brugh, Cori Gonzalez-Maceur and Stuart Rutherford, who are wonderful in the film - by chatting with them in character.

 

We sat in the room and what followed were five minutes of deadpan awkwardness, which might have worked had there been cameras - kind of like the awkward pauses that take place in the Late Late Show with Craig Ferguson. But for a radio...not so much. The guys were really cool, but I had to cut the segment short because it simply didn't work, and I learnt my lesson (lord, did I ever...) 

 

Nevertheless, I felt that it was a special one, and have realised since that it's okay to have a bit of banter while you work, so having gained a bit of confidence, I have done interviews since that are quite funny and entertaining. Now, give me my late night TV show, damn it!

When I was at the Torino Film Festival last year, I was very much excited by the comedy The Stag - a perfectly timed comedy that unfortunately was inevitably categorised as a follower of The Hangover bracket despite it being much more clever in my honest opinion. There, I had met John Butler and was delighted that he was my first interview for FRED Film Radio, in fact, one of my first phrases on a podcast was in Irish for the occasion - one of the only phrases in Irish that hasn't totally swiped out of existance in my brain.

 

Now, I had recently moved to London because it was something I had planned for other more romantic motives, but when plans fell through I decided to go anyways when I was given the opportunity to do an internship with a sales agency, Metro International. It didn't take me long to realise that answering phone calls, sending packages and taking calls from festival directors was not my forte - although I did enjoy other aspects of the experience I won't get into for legal purposes!

 

Nevertheless, one of the first things that happened during my tenure there was I was invited to the British premiere of The Stag, which Metro happened to be looking after and which would be taking place a few days before Paddy's Day. Dressed to kill in smart casual at the Vue Piccadilly, had a few short chats with some executives and even talked with the helmer John Butler himself who, much to my delight, recognised me!

 

After the party was over, and it was time for all to go home, I was disappointed by the lack of adventurousness that seemed to reign supreme over the people, and thought I might experiment with taking advantage of my "film status" by bullshitting my way in a jazz bar - but no ordinary jazz bar - London's very own Ronnie Scott's. Now, I don't recall what they were taking at the door, but I recall keeping cool from my eyes popping out of my sockets. I went to the bouncer, flashed him my premiere bracelet and told him I was an actor in the film The Stag and was told to go ahead and take up a booth in the bar, as they would soon follow.

 

Somehow, they didn't even question me, and after I paid for my JD and Coke, the only drink I could order with some confidence, I sat down and treated myself to almost two hours of the sweetest bossanova and felt like a dream. With my confidence sky high, I can't tell you what happened afterwards, but let me just tell you it was one of the best London experiences of all year.

 

 

Other stories to look forward to reading about from my upcoming literary debut:-

 

- Caleb Landry Jones bumming cigarettes off me at the Quinzaine in Cannes.

- Meeting the great John Boorman

- Night skinny dipping with my personal hero Mark Cousins in Karlovy Vary

- Factory Records party in Sarajevo

- Coffee and Spritz routine at Venezia 71

- Nights at the Triskel at the Cork Film Fest

- The Abel Ferrara incident