ANGST OF A EUROPHILE

Between 1988 and 2015 I worked part-time for the European Union. Through the small lens of the Media Directorate I had an insider view of how the EU worked. Through heading up two EU Media ‘projects’ founded on the principle of co-production, of working together, I saw how my fellow Europeans believed in the concept of a united Europe. EU Media was good business too. It paid for at least twenty projects covering the range of film and TV making from development to distribution via courses in direction, production and managing archives. It subsidised and trained countless young professionals in the media business. Idealism and self-interest went hand in hand. Now we are OUT. What self-destruction! What shame! 

My first ‘project’ was MAP TV, standing for Memory, Archive Programmes Television, a silly acronym but based on the need for words common to many languages. I headed a committee of senior professionals from the major broadcasters and independent film companies meeting several times a year to award sizable grants (not loans) for TV co-productions between at least two EU countries on subjects of twentieth century European history. ‘Our common patrimony’ was the phrase. It was a laudable initiative because co-production meant working together on themes that had torn Europe apart. Not that it was all that idealistic. In my experience  the French could be self-serving and very guarded about their history in the last war while the British and Germans prided themselves too much in their objectivity. The Spanish sat apart, the Italian representative from RAI seemed most interested in after hours activities.

Yet it was clear from the beginning that the British were still on the other side of the Channel. We were hopeless at languages and this surely revealed a non-European state of mind. Everyone spoke English of course, though the French didn’t want to particularly in France, but it was a question of manners and the British didn’t seem to try. At meals during MAP those for whom English was the first or second language, that is the British, German, Dutch and Scandinavian, sat together and cast paranoid glances at the French speaking table of French, Italian, Belgian and Spanish. (This was the 1990s before East Europe had signed up). There was a temperamental rift here too between north and south yet if the English had made an effort to speak another language on social occasions we would have been more welcome members of the club.

From my viewpoint, the British attitude towards Europe was not only apart but patronising. For reasons I never understood and certainly did not deserve, the French made me a Chevalier de l’Ordre des Arts et des Lettres - self-serving French again? At a ‘medals may be worn’ dinner in London I decided to chance it and found myself sitting at a table with army officers wearing with ease their row of miniatures. ‘Do tell us, old boy, what is that gong you are wearing?’ my neighbour asked. I told him. ‘Look everybody, this chap’s got a medal – for being able to read and write’. Very funny! A very British joke which would not go down well the other side of the Channel. 

Dinners took up a lot of time at MAP and indulgent though they were they displayed how generously host countries welcomed the EU coming to town. Except London. To my embarrassment my employer, the BBC, was an indifferent, not to say virtually non-existent host. It was that state of mind again.  

In May 2004 East European countries joined the EU and EsoDoc began, administered by a film school in the Sud Tyrol, Zelig, and with me as Head of Studies. Incredibly, EU Media was prepared to pay matching funding for a training programme under the umbrella of European Social Documentaries that encouraged and enabled  film makers to produce documentaries about human rights; conscience-raising films, NGO films for Amnesty or Save the Children (for example) and participatory video as a therapeutic tool for use in institutions. Who else would have done this?

British film makers took full advantage of this. You Tube will show you three examples. ‘Ping Pong’ was a documentary about the World Table Tennis Championships for the Over Eighties in Outer Mongolia (!). It was made by a British company, Banyan Films, and  released in 2012, our Olympic year, with the result that Age UK supplied table tennis kit to care homes. ‘Thank You For the Rain’ began as a Norwegian NGO film about a Kenyan farmer, Kisilu, trying to adapt to climate change and then, working with Banyan Films again, it grew into a prize winning full length documentary. ‘Awra Amba’ was an on-line interactive documentary about an Ethiopian village where the utopian headman was trying to build a non-sexist, non-religious, non-aid accepting community. This has led to a remarkable company based in London called Lyfta which works with 700 schools, many of them for special needs, supplying on-line interactive films - ‘windows on the world through other people’s lives’. 

These projects began at EsoDoc and scores of others did too. All were shaped up and nurtured by visiting European teachers. How to  tell a good film story? How to crowd fund? How to pitch at film festivals? EsoDoc teaches; the world in miniscule ways becomes a better place. 

Each year EsoDoc holds three week-long sessions in different European countries, so its impact has to be limited, but it was a joy to participate in a pan-European project, applied for by 200 or so film makers annually from as many as fifteen European countries, and assist the twenty or so selected in forming co-production units. TV companies or film festivals from all over Europe hosted our meetings and match funded with the EU.  Except the UK. Not once in 12 years was I able to bring EsoDoc here although we are rightly regarded as leaders in documentary film making. EU Media even had a ‘hub’ in London as a regional centre to organise its activities. I found this shameful but now we are the losers. 

In March 2021 the EU Media hub in London will close down and the British will be excluded from all Media projects. Heidi Gronaeur, the German head of Zelig Film School, wrote to me before Christmas: ‘What a mess is Brexit, I am bewildered by it all’. It is our young film makers who will suffer. Anybody who knows anything about the cultural, educational and media offerings of the EU will know that we are the losers.

 

 

Rorke's Drift and Isandwana

We  moved near to Brecon in 2013 where there is a terrific museum commemorating the 24th Regiment of Foot (South Wales Borderers) which fought in the Anglo-Zulu war of 1878-80. So soon after we went to South Africa to visit the battlefields and a haunting experience it was too. At Isandalwana the Zulu King Cetshwayo  wrong footed Lord Chelmsford so that he split his army and left the bulk of it in camp while he went chasing off to engage the Zulu warriors several miles away; in fact the main Zulu army was in hiding waiting to ambush the poorly defended base camp. Almost all the defending forces were killed, over 1,300 British and Natal soldiers, the biggest defeat in imperial history. A small contingent held out at the staging post of Rorke's Drift nearby hence slightly redeeming the reputation of the army.

Today the battlefield of Isandalwana is much as it was. It is easy to imagine what carnage took place with the masses of British and Natal dead  and disembowelled all over the veldt, so that their spirits could escape their bodies. I do believe that when extreme pain is suffered a sense of it remains in the atmosphere, a sort of haunting. I felt it too at Cawnpore where the British community was massacred in the Indian mutiny - the other Victorian imperial disaster - and of course in Flanders on the Great War battlefields.

At Isandwana our imaginations were certainly inspired by the oration of our guide Andrew Rattray from the Fugitives Drift hotel nearby. It was unfashionable but effective - emotional, patriotic, opinionated and pro Zulu. His father David was the expert on the subject and able to fill the Royal Geographic Society in London many times over with his story telling. Tragically he was murdered by an intruder to Fugitive's Drift a few years ago.

As a postscript I discovered in Brecon when we returned that the 24th Regiment of Foot was in 1879 actually the 2nd Warwickshire Regiment which recruited in South Wales; it became the S.W.B. two years later. There is a vault under the museum, not open to the public, that contains trophies from Isandalwana. One is a Zulu shield with a neat triangular bayonet hole through it such as the  foot soldiers of the 24th Regiment carried  on the ends of their rifles. Makes you think.

Face to Face with John Freeman

07 March 2013: in the New Statesman published my 6,000 word essay about the enigmatic ex-soldier, government minister, broadcaster, editor, ambassador and professor, John "you -should- change- your-life-every-10-years" Freeman. Actually, I think I am the only person outside his family who knows he is still alive - aged 98 and living in a military care home. I think he led one of the most extraordinary public lives in the second half of the 20th century but always seeking anonymity. This 'anonymous celebrity' caught the eyes of reviewers. "A terrific read" wrote Roy Greenslade in a Guardian blog.

 

Bullshitting

A crime-writer on the BBC Radio 4 arts programme "Front Row" boasted recently that as soon as he had a new book out "I'm on Facebook and Twitter several times a day talking about it. I'll go on forums and post them under my name and various other names". Apparently not only praising your own book but trashing your rivals under a pseudonym is called using "sock-puppets". Now this is nasty but  it probably works. The literary world has enough gullible book buyers and, more worryingly, ill-informed agents and publishers who are taken in by this deceit. The trouble is that most people's morality is relative; once other authors cheat it's very tempting to follow their example. What's more I've some sympathy because the non-fiction publishing world is desperately short of money. Like other non-fiction writers I know, it's a long time since I received a decent advance payment and print runs these days are  so small that it's hard to earn much in royalties. The publisher of my last book actually fined me for exceeding the word count, though this was not in the contract.Then he  reduced the number of photo pages so that the photographs, for which I had paid the clearance incidentally not the publisher as in the old days,  were reduced in some cases to the size of a postage stamp. No wonder authors get kind of desperate to  make some money! If this is true of non-fiction writing then documentary filmmaking is even more impecunious. Many of my students have to go on Kickstarter or Indigogo to raise money for a budget. This is a form of begging. One or two I know with a burning conviction in their film actually mortgaged their houses to pay for filming and editing. I'm not talking about beginners here, but professionals with training and track record. This is a world where selling yourself by bullshitting is almost a given. The system of film credits invites it. Who may claim creative ownership of a film? The Executive Producer? The Producer? The Associate Producer? The Assistant Producer? None of them, in my view. Only the Writer and Director deserve the credit which is why I always insist their names come first or last in the list.

Then we come to the vexatious matter of the C.V., the 'curriculum vitae',  a glowing version of which is essential to get a film commissioned. I've read so many that I can pick out 'porkies' (lies) as soon as I open the attachment. But again I have some sympathy. My own view, to quote President Kennedy, is that "facts are sacred, opinion is free", by which I mean that the award/status/review cited on the C.V. must be factually correct though the significance you attach to it  is up to you. To give one example, which shows I am by no means whiter than white , you may have read on my website that in 1991 I was awarded a prestigious BAFTA for an American series I versioned called "The Civil War". Well, it's true and the certificate is on my wall, but ninety percent of the credit belongs to the creative genius of the  films, Ken Burns. The former statement is fact, the latter opinion is free. Of course, I did not qualify my award by mentioning my minor role. Its tough out there and I need all the help I can get.

So, if you have read the new version of "The Last English Revolutionary", please give it a kind review on this website; then I won't need to ask my wife to write one!!! Thanks.