Yearly Archives: 2009

There was I hotly anticipating my return to work this week and getting really rolling on Remembrance when I was flattened again. This time not by small children, but by some kind of a stomach bug. It’s left me totally wiped out and exhausted for the last 3 days and I’m only just getting back up to speed. Sucks quite a bit.

I have to confess I’ve been a little worried about things. If you’ll remember, last year’s CMV infection started out with weird pains in my chest and stomach, so a recurrence of similar and apparently inexplicable symptoms has rattled my nerve a little bit. I’m sure it’ll be fine, but I think after so long of being well my mind is maybe a little pre-programmed into expecting something bad to be due me. A stupid thought process, to be sure, but one that’s hard to avoid after spending 25 of my 27 years as a seriously ill person.

Anyway, the upshot of all this is that I’ve achieved nothing at all this week, which is obviously sub-optimal. Added to which, since I’ve been doing nothing but lay in bed all day, I’ve got into a horrible sleeping pattern and am up until past 3 in the mornings at the moment – never a great thing for aiding recovery.

I’m due in to my GP surgery tomorrow morning for some blood tests and I have a scheduled appointment at Harefield on Monday so hopefully this will all either have cleared up by then or we’ll be able to tell exactly what it is.

In the meantime, the one thing I have managed to do is to draw up a shortlist of DP candidates, who I’ll be meeting next week to have a chat with and go from there. It’s exciting stuff, I just wish I had more energy for it right now.

Apologies for the lack of updates. As a wedding gift to her brother from us, K kindly offered for us to look after their 12 year-old, 4-year-old and 3 year-old for a week while they had a honeymoon just the two of them.

I blithely accepted and agreed without really thinking it through and clearly MASSIVELY underestimating the whole thing. We’re having an awesome time, but we’re both shattered and I’ve hardly managed to get anything for Remembrance done this week, which is a bit rubbish. I’m trying to find us a Casting Director to work with, but since it relies on being able to head to London to meet people, that’ll have to wait until next week instead.

I’m also actively recruiting for the DP role and have a load of showreels to get through to find us the best person for the job, but that’s going pretty slowly too. Am just about to put dinner on so we can all sit and eat together, then I’ll be trying to get through a heap of them tonight.

More updates when things get back to normal at the weekend.

As you may have seen from my Twitter feed I spent a large chunk of yesterday afternoon in a Costa drink cappuccino and shot-listing the flick. It’s always an exciting time when you first sit down to work out what pieces of the jigsaw you need in order to make it as great as you want it to be. It’s been on my “To Do” list for ages, but the enforced side-line in the coffee-house yesterday was the perfect time.

What I’ve come away with looks fairly ambitious, but do-able. It’s also likely to change dramatically as I see what we’re likely to be able to do in locations, get to know the cast and what they’re capable of and take notes from my crew on what they think we need.

And speaking of the crew, yesterday the first crew call for Remembrance went out on Mandy.com looking for a Director of Photography. It was due to go out on Shooting People, too, but annoyingly it got “vetted” as their sub-editor clearly didn’t read it properly, which was frustrating as I was hoping to get some responses in before the weekend, when I’m likely to be pretty tied-up.

In addition to the DP, we’re also looking for a Producer to come on board and handle logistics while I focus on the creative and I’m looking to work with a Storyboard Artist as soon as possible to start getting my visual ideas down on paper, since I can’t draw for toffee. If you think you might suit any of these posts, go to the website for more information and get in touch.

Don’t forget, you can still come on board as a Co-Producer or Associate Producer without having to do any work at all – to claim your credit, click here.

Since my transplant life has taken on a whole new slant. For the most part this is absolutely, 100% undeniably awesome – being able to do the things I want to do, not having to worry about all the rubbish that went with the battle against CF. But every now and again something hits you with a bump, or a thud, or a massive hammer-blow to the head.

I got a phone call from a friend’s husband this morning saying he’d just been off the phone with the mother of a friend of mine from years back. She had CF and we used to chat a lot about all sorts of things – frequently how rubbish CF was – and make each other laugh and work through things when we needed some support. Sadly, she passed away this morning.

There’s such a complex mix of emotions post-transplant. On the one hand, I’m so deeply saddened that another young life has been lost to a disease which needn’t take people away from us. On the other hand, I’m so deeply grateful to my donor and their family for giving me the chance to retake control of my life and battle on to achieve what I want to achieve. It’s both deeply upsetting and hugely motivating when you hear of someone losing their fight.

Just last week I was in Oxford for my annual review with the CF team. It’s really a bit of a formality, as the CF no longer affects my lungs, but it’s still important for them to keep an eye on the other parts of my body CF can affect. It was such a great day though, epitomised by one little moment.

As the physio was doing my general assessment, including posture and other things, she had to listen to my chest. I’ve known my physio for a long time – over 10 years I’ve been going to the same clinic with the same physio now – and as time passes and you go through phases of ill-health, better health, dreadful health and have the kind of scares I went through, physios are the people you naturally seem to turn to. Most PWCF will tell you that their physio is the person they confide in the most, more often than not because they are the member of your medical team you spend the most time with due to the frequent rounds of physiotherapy needed to keep the chest at some vague approximation of a functioning level.

So my physio is doing her assessment and I lift my shirt for her to listen to my chest. I used to know I was ill when the physio or doc would listen to my chest and pause the stethoscope in any one place for longer than a single breath. As she listened to my chest, she paused in one particular area and a dread went up me, until I glanced down and saw a smile creeping over her face as she listened to my now-soundless chest.

For years all anyone had been able to hear on my chest was the crackly static of blocked and infected lungs, now there’s nothing. And as she listened, my physio couldn’t hide her big, beaming smile at the fact that there’s nothing for her to do on my chest any more.

I’m enjoying a life I never thought I would or could, thanks to the generosity of one family, but the price I have to pay for the extension I’ve been given is seeing people who could so easily be like me losing their fight.

This is why I work with these guys and this is why I’m making Remembrance – if they’re not here to reach their dreams, I damn sure better make an effort to fulfill mine. If you want to buy in to my dream, go here to find out more.

I know you’re not supposed to hibernate in the summer, but my excuse is that it’s been rainy and horrible once we had a short spell of loveliness. Still, apologies for the silence last week – I had a few issues I needed to sort out before I could devote myself to getting on with Remembrance and pushing forward.

I’m going to be continuing the break-down of the screenplay and the budgeting this week, and will shortly be on the lookout for the initial members of my crew, more on which later in the week.

For now, I’ve just sent off a couple of proposals to people who may be interested in getting involved in one way or another, so we’ll wait to see what comes of those.

No more hibernation, I promise.

As I said on Wednesday, we’re going to need your help to make this film and achieve what we want to achieve. That means cold, hard cash – £25,000 of it in fact.

It’s a huge amount, but it’s worth it. To be considered for Oscars and the like, shooting on film is really the best way to go – it’s not dead and it never will be. More than that, though, as a calling card movie for both myself and the people who end up coming on board to help, it’s important to show the world that we can handle the big boys’ toys.

More than money, as I said before, is support – and as I know now, support comes in many fashions. I will be asking everyone who works on this film to give their time for free. That includes the military adviser who helped me write the screenplay and their commitment to assisting us throughout production.

So far they have been absolutely brilliant. Not only were they instrumental in the creation of the script, but they have also offered us the use of a fantastic location to shoot the military battle scenes in as well as full technical support and advice throughout preproduction and production.

That should hopefully tell anyone umm-ing and ahh-ing over this project something significant – these guys like it. A lot.

With military backing and the financial support of not only you guys but also some bigger sponsors I’m hoping to pull in, we can truly make this a film to knock people’s socks off.

There’ll be more on how you can help in non-financial ways here next week, but until then have a root around the sofa and see what you come up with. You can find out all about your options and rewards for chipping in here.

After all the to-ing and fro-ing, the waiting, the build-up, the Big Secret Project is finally here.

Oscar

BAFTA

As many of you will know, a good friend of mine set out to make a short film when I was waiting for my transplant. Gone Fishing eventually reached the final 7 in the shortlist for the Oscars, some going for a little film made with the help of friends, colleagues and people he didn’t even know at the start of the project. Shot on 35mm film and finished to the highest of professional standards, Chris’ film has won far too many international festivals for me to count. If you visit his blog, you’ll be able to find out all about it and the festivals.

By far the biggest thing to come out of Gone Fishing for Chris, though, is the launch-pad it has given him into the film industry. From taking meetings in LA to signing with an agency and manager, Chris is living the life he (and I) has always dreamed of.

When I sat at home an mulled over my options for how to get where I want to go when I don’t know how long I have to achieve my goals, Gone Fishing and Chris’ experience thrust themselves into my consciousness. I’ve always wanted to be a filmmaker, I’ve always wanted to make films. It’s that simple. So why sit around thinking about it when you can actually go out and do it?

And given the blessing I’ve been given – the most wonderful gift any person or family can give to anyone else – it seems even more important to push myself to achieve the very best that I can. No middle ground, no soft-peddalling. If I’m going to do this, I’m reaching as high as I can. As a wise man once said, “Reach for the stars and you may just reach the ceiling, reach for the ceiling and you will barely get off the ground.”

Every journey, as they say, starts with a single step. And this is it, “Remembrance”.

Remembrance is a 15 minute short film about war, family and memory through the eyes of three generations of a single British family. It’s chock full of action, carefully-crafted dialogue and packs a real emotional punch. It’s designed to showcase all of the things I can do as a director and writer, working with big names (if things go to plan), working with children and young actors, directing action scenes and working with stuntmen and stunt arrangers as well as working on a smaller scale with intimate dialogue scenes.

As I said when I first sat down to write about it: this one’s good. It’s really good. And I believe it can go all the way. I intend to fully document the process on here for everyone to read and for filmmakers to learn from and I will shortly be enlisting you all for your help in creating this piece of historic cinema. It may not rock the entire world of film, but it will turn my world upside down and become a launching point not just for my career, but hopefully for everyone involved.

Keep checking back for progress reports and on Friday I’ll tell you all how you can help.

This is my second post-transplant birthday and I’m delighted to say that the novelty really hasn’t worn off. This time last year I was celebrating a birthday I never expected to see just weeks after mourning the loss of a friend whose transplant didn’t come in time.

This year is no less emotional, having been part of the Team Ethan fundraiser last weekend and remembering that I’m only here thanks to the generosity of my donor and their family. But it’s also been brilliant to be surrounded by my friends and family and really enjoy a day of doing nothing but what I wanted to.

I’ve been so overwhelmed by all the messages of support on Facebook and texts and phone calls from people. I really didn’t expect so many people to get in touch – it’s all a bit of a shock, if I’m honest, although K thinks I’m silly for being surprised. I suppose I simply had no idea that so many people were watching out for me and keeping tabs to make sure I’m doing OK.

It’s also really given me the kick up the proverbial to get myself into gear. Last week was a really hard week and I lost my focus a little, hence the delay in announcement of the Big Secret Project. But having had a weekend to look at the bigger picture, I’ve realised that this is 100% what I need to do with myself right now. And if I can’t do it with the MASSIVE team of supporters I’ve clearly got behind me right now then, quite frankly, I’m never going to be able to do it.

So from tomorrow it’s onwards and upwards – the project is a GO and will be announced right here and on the TinyButMighty website within the next 48 hours. So come back soon!

Apologies for the lack of formal announcement of the new project – this week has been a whirlwind of catching-up after getting put back and slowed down by the weekend in Manchester. I’m sure as I push forward with TinyButMighty I’ll get more used to fitting turn-around time into the schedule (and my diary), but as you can see from the completed Team Ethan doc below, I’m perfectly OK with being behind if it means I get to do something to honour this little fighter and his truly remarkable family.

[vimeo http://www.vimeo.com/4774355 w=500&h=375]

I spent the weekend with Live Life Then Give Life Advocate Holly Shaw (also star of Channel 4’s Battlefront programme
last Thursday) and Vice-Chair Emily Thackray in Warrington. We were there to shoot an interview with Holly and also to cover the Team Ethan participation in the BUPA Great Manchester 10k on Sunday morning.

The family of Baby Ethan, who sadly lost his fight just a few weeks post-transplant earlier this month, are truly amazing people. Despite burying his son just last week, dad Stu lead the team around the centre of Manchester, registering a time of 65 minutes for the 6-mile-plus run.

Even more inspirational was the enormous turn out of family and friends at their LLTGL fundraiser in the evening to bring the events of the day and the recent weeks to an emotional but uplifting close.

In the end they raised a phenomenal £5,900 for LLTGL between the online fundraising on their justgiving page and including over £3000 raised on the night in the room. We were all humbled and privileged to be there and experience such an amazing display of mutual support.

The video from the weekend will be up on the LLTGL website this week and if you want to donate to Team Ethan, you can do so here.