A film writer and director is interviewed. He has made a movie, seen it released to widespread acclaim and is now kicking back, enjoying the spoils and thinking about the next one.
He’s got ideas, plans, scripts various, and is thinking of locations, actors and themes. He’s visiting, talking, looking, writing, drawing; taking his time formulating a dream. For him, this is the best, most creative, most enjoyable part of the film-making process. Other bits, not always so much.
Studios have to be convinced. People have to be persuaded to part with money: sometimes, it’s not enough. Locations don’t work, dates change, the vision gets skewed during filming – this doesn’t look like the storyboard, the atmosphere in this scene is wrong, this star doesn’t get on with that one – and it’s not until it’s all done and he’s in the editing suite that it starts to come back together again. Then not necessarily as first conceived. But in the end, there is a film. Usually, it’s good.
But this bit, right now? This is the best bit.
Ah, the feels. I know how it is, mate. Because although I have not made a movie, I have bought, owned, worked on, driven, cursed, loved, wanted to douse in petrol and burn to the ground, loved again, and then sold classic cars. And non-classic cars. And motorbikes. Basically, anything with wheels that needs an element of work. It’s all much the same as a vast Hollywood production, I understand. And it’s that phase at the start, the ‘wouldn’t it be good if…’ dreamscape, that I can relate to entirely.