Now, if any of you read this regularly - hold on, irregularly - you'll know that I love a good bit of improvisation on a shoot.
That's not because I think it's fun. I like films I direct to be fun, and if I'm not DP'ing myself ( Let's say filming, I loathe pretentious terms in small crews - they are only needed in big set ups) then it's better for everyone if it's all pretty clear. But sometimes things get out of our control. So, in a classically British fashion, I'm going to have to mention the weather.
It's not as if you didn't see that coming, right?
Last month was hectic - we went from filming for the ever growing and ludicrously likeable bunch at Hepple Gin, in balmy spring weather, straight into three days in the Scottish Highlands for Bergamont Bikes, while I also had to do a quick Q and A on the Joe Barnes Doc that I directed and co edited at a mountain festival.
All went swimmingly well, until that is, coming home from Fort William, Simon (Our marauding Danish Cam op and cable cam man ) and I singing along to Dire Straits and chatting about out next shoot in two days time were met by the beast from the east. No, that's not our ex KGB friend Vlad, but a tasty storm that seemed to cause just as much chaos .
Being proud Northerners we were determined we weren't going to be stopped.
Alas, stopped we were.
So, at 1 am in the morning we walked home through a blizzard, with all our film gear on our backs, bar the sticks, which were left in our now severley trapped car. We got a bit stick for even trying to get home, but my view is that we're human and we were born to try things.
If we never try, how on earth will we know what we're capable of?
We got the car out at 7 am the next morning with the help of a shovel, and no harm was done, but we did have a good type 2 fun memory. Well worth it.