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1973
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Born at St.
Mary's Hospital in Paddington, London, 1967. Moved to Toronto
at eight, lived downtown, before gentrification. A time when
Pong was the video game and cable TV was a luxury. Dogs roamed
the streets; came home when street warfare called for refuelling.
Cassius, our Staffordshire Bull Terrier, ruled with an iron jaw,
made us proud. Snacked on rocks, always smiling.
Canada's an
amazing place to grow up. Very nice people. Civilized, curious.
Dry, ironic, subtle. Funny as hell. Not as funny as the weather.
Finished university in Montreal and Toronto (economics/psychology),
hung up the skates, got back on the boat. First stop, Barcelona.
1991. Fresh from fifty years under Franco. Arrived at night,
three hundred pounds sterling to hand, no credit, two duffel
bags, two words of Spanish and two speculative phone numbers.
Stored one bag at the central station, found a cheap pension,
started from scratch. Found ten hours-a-week teaching English,
a work exchange-room in a family's spiffy apartment and a regular
Saturday morning seven-a-side soccer match with the international
teacher's brigade. Sunshine, palm trees, people watching in Plaça
Real. Fell in love, started the process of opening a language
school, teaching Spanish to ex-pats. A totally unique set-up,
two-hundred students enrolled within 48 hours of opening.
The novelty
of a perfect climate, modest wealth and all the freedoms of living
somewhere inexpensive and totally stimulating wore off. Went
back to overcast, not-so-happy London, to become a film writer.
Had a story to tell, about a dangerous love affair in West Africa
that almost ended the bio. Four months and 160 pages later, something
to show. Something that needed a lot of work. Age twenty-seven.
A mountain to climb.
Four years
later, decided to make a short. Was told by some smart people
the writing was visual. Made sense, having always been drawn
to photographic composition, design and aesthetic. Wrote, produced
and directed Please!. No written budget. With £10,000,
shooting 35mm Cinemascope in seven locations over five days (using
the 30ft crane in two locations in one day), with established
actors, and never having been on a film-set, is wishful thinking
to begin with. A written budget seemed a little like taking one
to a casino. Denial is a safer bet.
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