Well that was fun...

...which is a rare thing for me to confess, but it was. The second screening of my short film was made more important by the fact that industry folk and real film fanatics turned out as well the few cast and crew who couldn't make the last one.

Film played. Big screen, big sound, just like the doctor ordered. Whoops and whistles of joy... cool...

but the best for me was yet to come...

The Master of Ceremony got up and introduced me and my 'Publicist' for a Q&A... ...and he started off by saying that he was a fan of my early black & white gritty work. And that he was therefore massively disappointed to see me sell out like this...

Crowd gasps with shock...

Before i can speak, my publicist grabs the microphone from me and starts talking about bums on seats and that the five greatest films of all time are Con Air, The Rock, National Treasure, Face-Off, and The Rock.

And then people start getting it... kind of...

The Master of Ceremony, a high brow critic informs me that he has taken the lead actor of my film, shot some extra footage, and spliced it together with images from my short; creating the critics cut. Cue Black & White art house pretension extraordinaire all set to some authentic Parisian Occordian Music… 45 seconds of my ‘thespian’ muttering random French words later, and we come out of the film with a very smug critic claiming that this is a masterpiece.

And for those of you in the audience who still don’t get it; this is a piss take Q&A. But of course we don’t say that.

My publicist starts deflowering my future feature film scripts with crap tag-lines that sell to the popcorn crowd, and gets a well known British actor who-couldn’t-be-here-tonight to record a message of goodwill that is clearly done under duress… in fact the star looks like he’s in a clip on AlJezera – like he’s a hostage in Iraq… a little edgy, but it got a laugh…

And eventually the crowd...

Well that was fun...

...which is a rare thing for me to confess, but it was. The second screening of my short film was made more important by the fact that industry folk and real film fanatics turned out as well the few cast and crew who couldn't make the last one.

Film played. Big screen, big sound, just like the doctor ordered. Whoops and whistles of joy... cool...

but the best for me was yet to come...

The Master of Ceremony got up and introduced me and my 'Publicist' for a Q&A... ...and he started off by saying that he was a fan of my early black & white gritty work. And that he was therefore massively disappointed to see me sell out like this...

Crowd gasps with shock...

Before i can speak, my publicist grabs the microphone from me and starts talking about bums on seats and that the five greatest films of all time are Con Air, The Rock, National Treasure, Face-Off, and The Rock.

And then people start getting it... kind of...

The Master of Ceremony, a high brow critic informs me that he has taken the lead actor of my film, shot some extra footage, and spliced it together with images from my short; creating the critics cut. Cue Black & White art house pretension extraordinaire all set to some authentic Parisian Occordian Music… 45 seconds of my ‘thespian’ muttering random French words later, and we come out of the film with a very smug critic claiming that this is a masterpiece.

And for those of you in the audience who still don’t get it; this is a piss take Q&A. But of course we don’t say that.

My publicist starts deflowering my future feature film scripts with crap tag-lines that sell to the popcorn crowd, and gets a well known British actor who-couldn’t-be-here-tonight to record a message of goodwill that is clearly done under duress… in fact the star looks like he’s in a clip on AlJezera – like he’s a hostage in Iraq… a little edgy, but it got a laugh…

And eventually the crowd start fighting the two polarised lunatics and demand some answers from me…

Now the problem is some part of me loves being humiliated like this after screening my film… I hate the vanity of it all and it’s not why I do it… but here I am in front of a hundred or so people, and I’m perfectly set up to rant…

But this is what I’m afraid of…

You see, I can rant. I can rant like a good un…

I can rant about how Tomb Raider sums it all up for me. The film is a pile of shit. And it needn’t have been.

I’ll start saying that I understand why a film like that gets made. Recognisable brand. A girl and a gun. Indiana Jones with breasts. I understand folk going to see a film like that. I understand they want a break from reality and a good night of entertainment. But don’t tell me they all came away happy. Hell I want to see a film like that, but that’s not what they got. They got a group of money men ticking the boxes… Angelina Jolie. Tick. Well known brand. Tick. Action. Tick. And suddenly we get a ninety minute machine gun of pap going off, that leaves us numb at the end. (It wouldn’t be so criminal, but the irony is it was more like a computer game than the computer game – that’s actually pretty slow and atmospheric.) But they justify it because they know that it will make money. Cause it’s just an advert. But here’s what they don’t know. Here’s what they don’t consider. Make a film better and it will loved more and last longer… It will earn more cash and have an impact on cinema… Lara Croft could be a great character. An empowered female role model played by an empowered actress. Think of the impact that Sigourney Weaver had, playing Ripley in the first two Alien films. There’s a chance to do something with Tomb Raider that has been completely wasted. Why should I care? Because I believe in art. Because I don’t believe that just because something looks like art it necessarily is, and just because something doesn’t look like art doesn’t mean it isn’t. Art is about form and purpose. And if the art scene could take it’s head out of its ass it would realise that populist cinema can be art. Fucking Shakespeare got it. Hell, the first modern-day blockbuster which invented the opening weekend was The Godfather. Sure folk in general don’t particularly go out to hunt down thought provoking and challenging films. They want a bucket of popcorn and a good movie. But if a film has more to it than just the obvious, people won’t be offended… they’ll be delighted… How else can you explain the nihilism and downbeat movie that is ‘Se7en’ earning $350 million on theatrical release… the 43rd most successful movie of all time. It was slow and ugly and the ‘masses’ loved it. Don’t write them off you pig ignorant money men with your calculators on what makes good entertainment. People need stories, not box ticking. And you could have made a good Tomb Raider movie, and inspired a generation, you bad-at-your-job dumb fucks. But why should I care about popcorn movies so much? Well it seems to me that less and less are films about anything other than branding. Popular culture is fast becoming devoid of thought. And if mainstream cinema is getting dumb and dumber, and our mainstream culture is all about reality shows, celebrity magazines and buckets of popcorn, then where the fuck are we heading? Sure, we can sit on the sidelines feeling superior. But when our very culture is fucked beyond all meaning, what kind of a society have we become? If our stories don’t have anything but superficial branding and big bangs, then neither will the world we live. It’s my obsession and duty to try to make mainstream cinema better. And that should be the aim of everyone working in it. We should say no to pap, and strive to make it better… and that is what my short film is about.

Tumbleweed rolls across the cinema. Over 100 very silent people. And me feeling like I’ve finally reached the utopia of humiliation.

So I keep the passion to myself and I answer flippantly and get a couple of laughs…

My subversive Q&A complete, people leave happy and wondering what the fuck all that was about…

I’m left in the bar delivering the speech I should have made to anyone who’ll listen. Wondering why I didn’t just rant…

And getting very, very drunk.

That’s show business.