Thematically speaking, a science fiction is no more mature than a fantasy with fools and horses, unless burdened with the weight of a place in time, an existential question.  Things change when you start to say ‘this story can happen, it’s very very unlikely, but yet, I can vividly imagine it being a reality’.

This is why mature science fiction films are difficult to make, and in the evanescence of special effects becoming commonplace in all films, making them can only get harder.

Yet, ROSS NEIL, a london based creative director who usually works on commercials and ads, pulled it off beautifully in his first directed short film ‘DEFOE’. I found it whilst meandering through the archives at the SHORT FILM CORNER at the CANNES FILM FESTIVAL, and it seems to have done well in other film festivals like TORONTO, CANADA and EDINBURGH. The story strongly captures the lonely and tense beginnings of an inter-planetary cast-away, who is trapped on a surreal alien planet after having crashed into it in a space shuttle. Shot on 16mm film, and with top end prosthetic costume and make up design plus a bit of CGI, it gives off that feeling of being really well planned, and really well made. Alien, is the feeling that comes to mind whilst watching this small gem, like being in a country with no one to talk to, where the locals look like they’d want to skewer you for lunch.

The over-saturation of other science fiction films within my brain occasionally lifted me out of the film, but this was a minor issue.  For instance, given that the protagonist is an APE-MAN (with a superb prosthetic face), it brings to mind the world from the 1968 version of ‘THE PLANET OF THE APES’ or elements of ‘2001: A SPACE ODYSSEY’. The isolation felt by the protagonist when he is orienteering a mysterious landscape with caution and haste, gives it an acquired adventure taste not too dissimilar to the 1981 cave-man adventure ‘QUEST FOR FIRE’.

My only qualm with the film is that the weather in it is just as famously grey and dull as england’s, but maybe, that’s what makes the film strangely familiar. Their informative website has a trailer, storyboards and production stills, but no sign of where to watch another screening. Blast.

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We had been eating at the Archway Kebab Centre, one of the best places to eat turkish food, and at a really good price.  After heading separate ways, I found myself without an agenda or plan of sorts, except to just go home, the sun was disappearing and a cold breeze was coming in. I also had to be on a Film Set for the next day, so I better have an early night.

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I was heading towards the bus stop when I suddenly found myself walking into a saloon. In the corner was a large man laughing like a ball of jelly at a two piece violin and guitar country band.  A man in a cowboy outfit strutted about, and was giving off friendly vibes all round. Basically, it was crowded, with the locals, old timers, and … eccentrics? I’m not sure, they might just be a bit mad.  Where the hell was I? I would have gone out to take a look at the pub name, but the country dance floor was rocking and stamping, so I stayed and observed.  It was like stepping into a time warp, back in the day when pubs were places where the locals got their firewater after a hard days work, and where country and shanty music blared through the windows. Actually, there was a scruffy guy staring into the windows from outside the street, observing the festivities, he looked like he just came out of a Charles Dickens novel.

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I’m not sure if I liked the vibe, a lone african man sits sullenly with a tired look in the middle of the room. I hope he’s not here by himself. the band had a very good sound most of the time, but I thought the guy sang too loud (though it was mainly because of a faulty microphone), and a little bit out of tune.  There was a young lady playing the electric violin, she was dressed in black, almost like a goth. Her violin playing really brought the songs to life, and her style had a very celtic tone to it. And then it hit me. This must be an Irish Pub. There is a street sign as part of the decor in the middle of the room, pointing to Donegal, Kerry and Dublin. All three are cities or counties of Ireland. There was a painting of a man nuzzling a wooden cask with affection, and other paintings of people in the countryside.

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Before the next song started I decided to leave, I thought it was good to end with the song ‘Dirty Old Town’ in my head (it’s a nice song), and I felt kind of rude being in a pub without buying a drink.  I just read online that the bar tender might be rude to you, but maybe that’s just part of the vibe. So yeah, it’s an irish pub, and it’s called The Lion, in Archway. I thought it was called Sweeney’s to be honest.

• The ingredients seem to be very simple, said the internet, who is my trusted ally in most situations. It’s basically a layer of noodle – vegetable sauce – white sauce – 3 types of cheese (parmesan, gorgonzola, and mozzarella) – and another layer of noodle, repeated over and over again.

So finally, after consulting this recipe, I went out and bought the ingredients with what money I had left, except for the white sauce I decided to just get a pre-made Dolmio Jar. For vegetables, I got myself:

1. a courgette,
2. two handfuls of mushroom,
3. two tins of chopped tomatoes,
4. two tins of spinach,
5. a block of mozzarella,
6. and a block of cheddar (I thought these were enough really),
7. a red pepper,
8. and a green pepper,
9. I knew I had onions back home, as well as spices.
10. oh yeah, and I had to get the lasagna noodle, I went for the green noodles (called Lasagna Verdi -by a brand called Puglisi)

After cutting and frying all the vegetables, I threw in the spinach, and the two tins of chopped tomato, before napalming the whole thing with a jar labeled ‘mixed spices’ and another jar labeled ‘sage’.  Put some salt and pepper, a few cloves, I would have put some wine, but there wasn’t any lying around.  I let it simmer there for about twenty minutes, as I went about to prepare the noodles.

The packet was a bit strange, on the back it said ‘designed to not require pre-cooking’. I guess you can design anything these days, but I didn’t believe the packet, and boiled 9 lasagna noodles until they were soggy.

Layering the lasagna was actually easier than I had imagined, it’s a bit like building a sandcastle from a bucket. You put down the layers, and then you flatten and pat it down to make it flat, then you put down another layer, and another layer.  By this point I had already heated up the oven to 190 degrees C, and from a general look at other recipes on the internet, the lasagna should be ready in 40 to 45 minutes. And that, ladies and gentlemen, was that.

I always wanted to look after a dog, or a cat, or even some fish, it really didn’t matter what so long as it was a living entity. Heck, a plant would even do, probably the cheapest and less emotionally distracting for those in-the-case-I-fuck-up-and-they-die situations.  The reason I don’t have a pet or a plant is because I move around so much, sometimes to other cities for days, and so I wouldn’t be able to give a pet the long term attention it needs to survive, and yes, because of this, they would probably die. However, a dog named Billy was an unplanned guest in the house, probably one of the friendliest, laziest, bipolar dogs I’ve ever met. His breed is called a King Charles Cavalier Spaniel, I think. I asked a pedestrian with a similar looking dog, except with black spots instead of brown.

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He was put under the care of my housemate because his owner was going away somewhere on some errand. I found him on the bed when I came home, he was so excited he slobbered a little on the duvet.

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After a few days, I realised how nice it was to have a dog patter around the house. I actually found it strange to have a mildly intelligent life form of another species living near me, it’s different to having a cat about the house.  I see foxes all the time prowl the streets, and birds of course, the occasional snail and cat, but dogs are still weird. Especially when you pick them up and pet them, and when they look at you with a variety of expressions.

I wasn’t sure how to look after Billy, since my housemate wasn’t always home, so I bought some denta-stix for it, cause I wondered if it needed to brush it’s teeth.  Dogs clean their teeth, right?

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On day 4, my housemate gave me a crash course on how to walk the dog, because he was a bit busy on the piano and I was curious, Billy was excited as ever, almost jittery to the point of self-injury. My housemate gave four golden rules:

1. don’t take him off the leash
2. when near a road, get him to walk by your side
3. hold the leash short when crossing the road
4. bring plastic bags to pick up the shit

So off we went, I found myself talking to the dog. Saying things like, “You’re quite obsessed with peeing on other people’s property aren’t you?” or “quite the girl magnet aren’t you?” (when a group of girls stopped to pet it).  I decided to be led by the dog, just to see where I’de go. We travelled around the residential areas, through some bushes, and past some parking lots, we walked past a gang of burly looking boys, and eventually made it to the park.

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At some point, Billy started sniffing another dog, who’s owner was sitting slouched on the bench.  I didn’t really know what to do, my housemate hadn’t told me about this, I know it’s usual to just pull the dogs away from each other, but to drag Billy away seemed kind of rude. I decided to say something to the owner, a depressed looking man in a dark brown leather jacket.  I say he was depressed looking, because he just stared into space, and when I awkwardly said “hello, nice dog”, he just kept on staring.  He seemed like he wanted to be left alone, so I finally walked Billy away from the other dog. We got home, and Billy picked at his food bowl. Man, he’s a picky eater. I miss him already.

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So that was the first time I’ve ever walked a dog. No, wait, my second time. The first time I walked a dog I got injured in an ensuing dogfight, haha.

I was using a Canon 5D Mk2 to film the production, it had two measly problems that I had fixed before arriving in Ipswich. The first problem was how the camera ate up battery life like a hungry whale in a shrimp farm, during filming it would last only up to an hour and a half, which for a camera is surprising, and the whereabouts of a DC IN socket is either non-existent or beyond me, so it can’t be plugged into the wall. I solved this by having 3 batteries and recharging them all, as well as having one charging on the go.  The second problem was how the filming function took up about 3 minutes per Gigabyte of Memory space, meaning an hour of filming required 20GB of space on Compact Flash Format.  I was going to film the 1 hour long production twice (the dress rehearsal and the real performance) so I was glad that I had acquired two 32GB Compact Flash cards beforehand. Other than those two problems, I haven’t encountered anything notably annoying. It is a camera that can capture some astoundingly beautiful shots.

It was 4:50 pm, the dress rehearsal was about to start in ten minutes. I watched as the actors started to do warm up excersizes, they were bending, stretching, leaping, jumping-landing-and-crumpling, doing cartwheels, chanting, etc. This always interested me for some reason, because some actors and actresses seem to have to transform themselves before getting on stage, as though it is a mental transformation as well as a physical one.  A similar thing happens in filmmaking too, which apparently depends on whether or not you came from a theatrical background.  Once I saw an actress leave the film set by going outside and then screaming ‘Wanker’ at the top of her lungs for ten minutes because the director had asked her to be ‘angry’ for the next scene.

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It was 5:15pm and the director was getting anxious, she started to pace a little. I suppose I would too. After calling all members of cast onto stage, including Zach and Jamie of the musical portion of the play, the dress rehearsal began. For the shoot I decided to also use a borrowed Canon 500D to film the musicians, and a Sony HF-S11 with a mic attachment planted on a ladder to grab a wild track of the sound. It started with a hush, and a dimming of lights, I was pretty psyched since it was happening less than 5 metres away. I filmed in that position for the next hour, occasionally going to the other cameras to check on them.

There’s something about Half man/Half clam that I found immensely appealing, it had elements that reminded me of the film ‘The Science of Sleep’ or an episode of ’Round the Twist’, and it is very simple.  Like, on the simplicity scale of 1 to 10, I would say this play was 4. It’s easy to understand, but isn’t made for sesame street, it uses simple theatrical poetry, and features a puppet with a clam’s head.

Take your average hero’s journey and blend in an entire musical score with metaphorical dance sequences thrown in and you’ll get something that kind of feels like an ipod. Simple, yet it delivers the goods. The Story revolves around a man who has a paralytic fear of seafood and anything related to the sea because his father died after eating a shrimp, theoretically due to a lethal allergic reaction.  His love life is notably tampered with by this persistent problem, which is hounding him time and again by making social occasions awkward or causing him to faint in the worst of times, he eventually puckers up and fights his fear. Literally. By attacking the puppet with the clam’s head, which had been established as the physical manifestation of his phobia.

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When it finished, there was a surprisingly long list of constructive criticism from both the actors, director and backstage. No doubt about it, they were trying to get the play, pitch perfect.

I went back to dressing room 1 to check up on Zach and the master track of the album.  He had this long, serious expression, and we just sat in the room for a while in silence. After sometime he spoke, “I spent a fuckload of time working on this music, and now, of all places, it has to be unfinished, I should have done this in the car, another hour, just one hour, is all I need”

The play was going to start in twenty minutes. I suddenly remembered a quote I heard from god knows where, “No it’s the continuing series of small tragedies that send a man to a madhouse not the death of his love, but a shoelace that snaps with no time left…”. Before we knew it, it was 7pm, and we had to get back out there.  The album was unfinished.

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The crowd size was suddenly depressing, there was loads of people, about sixty people or more, and they were filing in and being shown their seats by the theatre attendants. We could have sold them our album, from where I was filming I thought I could see Zach and Jamie’s sullen look.

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The production was even better the second time round, and I managed to film the whole thing on a wider angle, capturing the entire stage instead of segment close ups.  The Canon 5D Mk2 had another frustrating capability, which is that it can only film up to 4GB in length, equivalent to 12 minutes. I suppose this is so that they can fit onto DVD’s easier. This problem came at a bad time, since I dozed off (I was exhausted by that point) for about five minutes when one of their hypnotic dance sequences came up, the camera reached it’s 12 minute mark right then, and I lost about 5 minutes of the play. The crowd loved the play, and responded well, laughed when it was meant to be funny, and sniggered when it was an innuendo or joke.

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After it all finished, we got ourselves back to London, drank and smoked. I was asked to edit a 5 minute trailer from what I filmed. I’ll be getting on with that soon. Actually I finished a version of it two days ago, and here it is:

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It’s a pity the album wasn’t finished in time, but listening to it now through headphones, I think it has potential on it’s own anyway. It reminds me of when I used to listen to The Eels, specifically their album Electro-Shock Blues, and how the whole album was like a poetic dystrophic story. Perfectionists and fatigue, what can ya do about it, from what I know, the two are connected, like lovers! So yeah…the end.