INSPIRING

As many of my readers will know, I'm a filmmaker, but for the past six years I have diversified into teaching young people the skills to make movies. Currently I am in the process of shooting a number of short films with my regular group. This week I follow on from last weeks blog.

So it will not surprise you to know that last Sunday I watched the BAFTAs. For a change I found myself agreeing with many of the winning choices, most especially those for 3 Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri. I even found myself, alone on the sofa, applauding.

At the end they award The BAFTA Fellowship, which this year went to Ridley Scott, or should I say, Sir Ridley Scott. His speech had an air of sarcasm about it, mostly for never having been awarded a BAFTA for any of his films. This is surprising when you consider he is the man that brought us Alien; the original Blade Runner; Thelma & Louise; Gladiator; and most recently The Martian and All the Money In the World. And this last film had in its cast one of my teenage students, which was fun.

But it was his speech that inspired me. Read off cards, nervously bumbling in places, he talked about his career from the early days, involved in commercials and corporate film. That, he said, was his "film school", having never gone to university to study the art form. He then praised the teachers that had an influence on him, and talked about teaching being the most important profession.

I too learned my craft in corporate filmmaking, before I turned my attention to teaching it, but I am no professional teacher, as so many of my close friends are, but I do seem to have a natural flair for it. I also never had the opportunity to attend university and gain a degree, and therefore I can never become a full time teacher. But, it makes me proud to say, and even brings a little tear to my eye, that I have already guided a number of young people to start a path toward the film industry. To have a young person tell you when they leave your class that your lessons are the thing they enjoy the most, and then to thank you. Well, no degree can ever match that.

If I'm truthful, I have been finding my work difficult recently, mostly because I realise that in my mid 50s my own chances now are limited. But then, last Saturday, I watch a girl aged 13, directing actors and camera crew in making a short film, and feel happy that I gave her those skills that she's now making her own.

I've accepted that I will never attain my own dream of "making it", and will never find myself standing on the stage of the Royal Albert Hall accepting a BAFTA, but hopefully I can be satisfied with my contribution to these young peoples future careers.

Maybe one day one of them will stand up there accepting their BAFTA Fellowship award.

MAKING A DIFFERENCE

If you're a regular reader of my blog you'll know that many a time I write about mini adventures I have in the great outdoors, mostly in the Highlands of Scotland. Regularly I find myself away on my bike or on foot, with Pauline, enjoying all that Scotland's landscape has to offer.

Well, this week I enjoyed another jaunt north of Stirling, this time to the small town of Callander, with the nearby, snow capped, Ben Ledi visible from the outskirts. But this was not a trip for walking or biking on this occasion.

About 18 months ago I became part of a team of film practitioners for Scottish Film Education, which aims to assist teachers, in the whole of Scotland, with online resources, to bring film into their classrooms. Not so much to make movies, but to use the medium to improve literacy instead of in print form.

It's been a long time coming, but finally I had my chance to launch a series of workshops that I will run in the Callander area between now and June.

By coincidence, the school that will play host to these workshops is the local school, McLaren High, the very place that my recent film students from Doune attend. Many of those young people struggle in one way or another at school, and the film project was a huge success with them. So I took the opportunity to sing their praises and promote the impressive work that those students had produced. Mostly teenagers do not speak up for themselves, and I knew I was in the perfect position to inform their teachers just what they had achieved and hopefully make a difference for them.

I was pleased to see that the response was immediate and enthusiastic, so fingers crossed new opportunities will open up for these kids.

Now I turn my attention to my usual Edinburgh students, who start shooting their next short film at a location away from the school where we usually run. The weather looks like it's going to hold, so fingers crossed for day one of principal photography tomorrow.

THROW BACK TO THE COLD WAR

It's that time of year when filming is about to start with the performing arts academy I teach at every Saturday. Scripts are written and cast, and now we are in the throes of finding locations.

The middle age group of kids, 9 to 12 year olds, have two films to shoot and both are set in a wood, so one location was going to suffice, making my job a lot easier. I found something suitable on the western outskirts of the city, and then just needed to recce it. We have to be able to provide toilet facilities and such basic amenities for the kids, and I could see from Google Maps that there was some sort of working yard in the area called Barnton Quarry.

However, I wasn't quite prepared for what I found.

There was three inches of snow on the ground when I arrived at the quarry, which is surrounded by steel fencing, and bizarrely, an intercom on a fence post on the outside of the area. I pressed the button and eventually spoke to the man in charge. As I waited for him to arrive I kept busy looking for CCTV, feeling a little unnerved.

But I needn't have been concerned. Martyn was very agreeable to allowing the students to film in the area, and use the facilities, and then invited me on a tour of the site. I agreed, a little puzzled, as all I could see was a low brick building.

There were two entrances, and he guided me into the first which was dimly lit by working lights. Inside was a series of empty rooms off a long corridor, and at the far end was a much larger room, sunken down into the ground. It was dripping with water, leaking in from the roof, and I struggled to imagine what it could possibly have been for. But it turns out that this was one of the bases for guiding the RAF in WWII, and would have housed one of those giant map tables that operators would push around models of planes. The company that now owned the building were in the process of renovating it, to eventually open it to the public.

But the next building was even more fascinating. As Martyn dragged back the rusted outer doors, it revealed a circular, concrete-lined, tunnel, going down steeply into the earth, with a string of lights on the ceiling lighting the way. It looked all very James-Bond-villain-lair-esque.

At the bottom of the tunnel were giant hinges, giving a clue to what had once stood here. Back in the Cold War, this facility was a nuclear bunker for those in power, and the hinges would have supported thick blast doors. Martyn led the way, and we continued down three levels, deep underground. Some of the old 1960s equipment was still there, including the enormous air filters. It was vast, and could have kept those based there safe for several months. However, apparently it would not have survived a direct hit. It was built to only withstand a nuclear strike at Rosyth Naval base, some 10km away.

Amazing that vast amounts of money were spent on this in the 60s, and it was never used, apart from one exercise. Though I believe modern day facilities do exist today, somewhere.

The company behind the venture also own "Scotlands Secret Bunker" over in Fife, which is open to the public. Eventually this place too will open to the public, though that will be many years hence, but I reckon worth the wait. What a shame it wasn't ready today, and the students would have had an amazing location. For now though, much like pre production for their film, you have to use your imagination to picture what this place will look like once complete.

ONE DAY IN THE SPECTACLUAR HIGHLANDS

I've enjoyed writing for the past few weeks about little adventures in the Scottish outdoors with my friend Pauline, and I round off January with one more foray into the snow.

During the week the forecast increasingly predicted heavy snowfall for the Scottish Highlands, and we watched eagerly in the hope that for once the forecast would be correct, as it rarely is. As the weekend approached though, huge accumulations gathered, and to put icing on the cake it was to be a cloudless and almost windless day on the Saturday.

On the Friday night Pauline readied her winter outdoor kit, complete with cross country skis. For me, well, unfortunately I had to work on the Saturday. There had been a chance that the school would be cancelled on the Saturday, but we wouldn't be told until the very last minute, which was pretty hopeless really. On what was going to arguably be the best day of the winter so far, I would be stuck indoors with 152 children, and all I would be able to do would look longingly north out of the windows.

Despite my best hopes, unfortunately the school wasn't cancelled. I received a text during the day from Pauline of just how fantastic it was up north. By the time I left work at 5.30pm, I had set my mind to get north. But the roads were starting to freeze up, and more snow was forecast, and though I had taken my full outdoor kit with me to work, anticipating that I would want to join Pauline, the sensible side of me advised against driving north at night, and so, shoulders down, I went home.

But, as I was about to head to bed that night, I remembered that Scotrail had a really cheap offer on of just £17 return to anywhere in Scotland, cheaper than I could drive north and back, and safer in winter.

By midday the following day I was stepping off the train to the snowy wee highland town of Aviemore, welcomed by a friendly Pauline, fresh from her cross country adventures. It was just a day trip, but what a day it had been so far, passing through snowy villages and the ice encrusted gorge of the Soldiers Leap, then through the high mountain landscape of Drumochter Pass, blanketed in fresh snow. Through a cloud of spindrift snow, kicked up by the train as it sped me north, I could see herds of red deer and their stags, scattered all along the side of the sparkly white hills.

Just on the outskirts of Aviemore is a small nature reserve called Craigellachie, which neither of us had ever walked. Deep snow carpeted the ground as we followed tracks already carved along the route by earlier walkers. A sign at the entrance to the reserve had stated that the walk offered "spectacular views of Aviemore". I was intrigued, as I've never heard anyone refer to Aviemore as spectacular, as a view or otherwise.

The path wove its way through the different trees, with the occasional wren flitting about the small amounts of vegetation not covered in snow.

As the path grew slightly steeper it became polished with the passage of previous boots, and I was glad to have steel-toothed grips attached to my boots. As we left the tree line and headed for the summit of the walk, the wind picked up dramatically. The next snow storm was gathering pace toward us from the west. We still had a few hundred yards to go to the top of the small hill, but despite its close proximity and low level, I knew it was still possible to get into trouble even here in these conditions.

Satisfied to have had a proper snowy experience, albeit brief, we descended back into town for a warming hot chocolate. As I reflected on the snowy landscape speeding past the window on the train home, somehow it had felt like longer than just one day, and I was glad I had caught the train, as I watched cars struggle at the snow gates on the A9.

And that spectacular view of Aviemore? Well, you can't have everything.