THE SEQUEL

Having run a brand new film academy for kids from age 9 to 18 in July, I decided to reprise the event in August.

Film Academy summer school, the sequel.

There were a number of parts of the July summer school that didn't work as well as they could have for the students, and during the week that followed I went back to the drawing board, or maybe more appropriately, the storyboard.

One thing that occurred to me was we needed to get the students working on cameras more quickly, so we upped the ante, and threw them in at the deep end, shooting their main film after just two days.

We had received various bits of feedback, all very positive, but a few were surprised the students were filming a pre-written script. They had assumed they would film their own. We had decided this for very good reasons.

A five minute short film script takes around a month of full time work to write and perfect, ready for shooting. Part of that is getting everyone to agree on story, parts and roles. To have been able to do this well in just two days was going to be impossible, hence the pre-written script.

But it gave me an idea for the second week, to satisfy both.

First of all, we altered the website, listing a basic schedule for the week, so everyone knew in advance they would be filming a pre-written script.

During the actual week we trained them up, and shot the film, a day early. By the Thursday lunch time they were wrapped. Then we presented them with a challenge; they had now been shown how to do it all, so we gave them one hour on Thursday afternoon to write a one-page script, with full reign on what they could do. On Friday morning we handed them a camera and a microphone, and gave them just 30 minutes to shoot five short scenes to tell their story, in sequence, no editing allowed. Whatever came out of the camera was the finished film.

And they pulled it off amazingly well. These six shorts were both the most popular with the parents at the end-of-week screening, and it was the most popular activity with the students. An idea I am taking forward to the weekly academy.

So by taking the plunge into the first week, listening to the feedback, we were able to deliver more of what they wanted. Everyone left happy. Click on this link to see just how much fun we all had:
https://vimeo.com/284521768

Some students said that having to wait around for their turn to be in front of the camera during any of the shoots, wasn't their favourite thing, but that is part and parcel of filmmaking, and if that was the only moan, then we were doing well.

The closing event, once again, though not quite as problematic as week one, was plagued with last minute technical issues. We found a workaround but we were 30 minutes late. This is real life. Tech issues happen all the time, but for me this felt like a failure, and I left feeling less than happy, thinking, well, I tried it, but it looks like it's not going to work long term. I knew I had five young people overall that wanted to do a weekly, after-school version, but five was not viable.

Six days later and we have 21 signed up, and as I write, only two places remain in the teenagers group. Our capacity is 30, mainly to ensure tutors have a manageable class.

At my current place of work on a Saturday, I have to deal with up to 30 students per class, and it just doesn't work very successfully. It has been invaluable experience over the past four years, but I need to make this better. Having a maximum of 15 is at the top end of numbers in my opinion, with 12 being ideal, but we have to balance the books.

For the future, and I never thought I'd be considering this, we are looking at opening a second academy on a Wednesday. And just this morning I have had inquiries from the Borders and Fife from fellow filmmakers to open something similar there.

What have I started?!

https://www.filmacademyedinburgh.com/weekly-filmmaking-classes/

 

AND . . . CUT!

Run a brand new summer film school.

Tick. Done that!



I've been hiding away this week, sleeping mostly, as the previous week saw the launch of my new venture, The Film Academy Edinburgh.


Back in April no one had ever heard of it. By the end of June we were on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Google Adwords, had our own website, and had even been mentioned in notices in the Scottish Parliament.

By mid July 62 kids were signed up.



Day one was tough, but then, it was just day one. They say you learn something new every day, but boy, is that an understatement!



 

But we made it through to day two, changed a few things as we went, and started to make headway.



As previous experience has shown me, the 9 to 12 year olds would be full of energy and up for anything we threw at them. The teenagers on the other hand, well, they were teenagers. They still showed keen interest, but in the way that teenagers do.



Wednesday was when we realised as a team that we could have had them shooting. We had them in more workshops and prepped them for the shoot, but we took note to make this the first shoot day in future camps.

By the Thursday cameras were finally rolling and they were all shooting their first films. It was manic, and footage was flying back to the edit suite as we went.



Come Friday lunchtime both films were wrapped and the students spent the afternoon in masterclasses, covering special effects makeup and sound effects. 

 

Over in the edit suite fingers were a blur on the computers. I was pulling together a fun, behind-the-scenes film, whilst Chuck the editor was trying his best to finish the kids films. By 3.30pm, half an hour before parents arrived to view the kids work, we were still editing.



At 4pm I came on stage, and announced we were a little behind, though not revealing just how far. Our acting consultant, and Scottish film star, Shauna Macdonald, improvised with a Q & A with the kids, then presented each with a certificate for the week. She was brilliant, but we were still editing.

If you've ever seen the episode Gourmet Night in Faulty Towers, were Basil's wife, Manual and Polly play for time while Basil flies around trying to bring a new roast duck to the event, then you'll have a rough idea how I was beginning to feel.

Hopefully I wasn't going to end up with trifle instead of duck.

By 4.30 the transfers were transferred over to the laptop, and I walked back to the projection room with the laptop open in my hand, still rendering! The progress bar was at half way as I stepped back onto stage and delivered the thank you's. We were now 45 minutes late, but we had made it.



The films played, not at their best as we hadn't had time to check them, but everyone was happy and left smiling, and not a trifle in sight.

And relax.



Well, not quite, as I'm about to do it all again next week! This time with a different model, and we will be filming on Wednesday.



The editing suite should be a little less pressured and I'm confident it's going to be a great success.

 

 

LITTLE LOCH OF THE NOISY SOUND

Normally, as soon as the Scottish schools break up for the summer holidays, the heavens open and we endure 6 weeks of poor weather. But this year has been a pleasant change, and the sun has shone almost continuously for several weeks now.

To say I am busy just now is the understatement of the year. My new film academy for kids is just around the corner, and there is so much still to do. However, I am aware of the old saying, that "all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy". I needed to find a way of taking a break, despite there being only days until the academy launch.

It's midgie season, so getting into the Scottish mountains is usually not a good option, but with such relentless heat the biting insect population is somewhat reduced, so Pauline organised a two night trek to take in five Munro's north of the Angus Glens, with the famous Lochnagar as the main goal, named after the small lochan in the mountain's northeast corrie.

With no public transport available at all, we reluctantly took my car. From Dundee we traveled the length of Glen Clova and arrived at the head of Glen Doll, on the edge of the Cairngorms National Park, around mid afternoon on the Saturday. Not surprisingly the car park was full of visitors, but within minutes of leaving the car we were alone on a track, leading north up the glen.

My achilles tendon on my left foot has been playing up in recent weeks, and the pain I experienced in the first few kilometers started to look like the trek would be over for me before it had even begun. I devised a routine to stop every so often to massage the ache out, and borrowed one of Pauline's walking poles to aid my ascent.

With long days and clear weather I had the opportunity to take it slowly, and by early evening we had climbed up to a saddle just below the first Munro, Broad Cairn, to camp for the night at 750m. Unsure of access to fresh water, we had decided at the bottom of the path to carry two litres each to the top. 

And let me tell you, water is heavy!

750m was high enough, combined with a slight breeze, to be free of the annoying midges, and after a late dinner, with views down to Loch Muick, we settled in for the night.

Another glorious day greeted us, and with most of the hard work done, we set off over the first Munro, a short distance from our nights camp. The area is very popular, and there is a well worn path along the whole route, but in some places this has grown to several metres wide, as many walkers have chosen to walk side by side, thus increasing the erosion.

Peak two, Cairn Bannoch, was probably our favourite Munro, mostly because of its bouldery summit and the view of the whole route ahead, all the way across to Lochnagar. There were few people at this early hour, which was very pleasant.

My achilles was once again reminding me of its presence, and I decided to sit several metres below the summit of Munro number three, while Pauline, having dumped her pack with me, ascended solo.

By now I was getting hungry. The path cut along the side of this Munro toward number four, and halfway along there was a crystal clear small river flowing, cutting across the path, so we parked ourselves for a while, munched our lunch, and watched the world go by.

Already on the route we had disturbed several female grouse, that displayed a behaviour designed to distract us. The reason being was because we had walked too close for her comfort to her young chicks. So small and cute, I imagine they were just a few weeks old.

As we moved on, over to our right on the hillside in the distance, were a herd of young red deer, mostly males, starting to move swiftly away, having detected our presence.

Munro number four, Carn an t'Sagairt Mor, was literally just a bump in the landscape, and not long after, we were approaching our main goal of Lochnagar. It was easily more than 30 years since I was last here. Clambering over its rocky main summit, called Cac Carn Beag, were several young walkers, and I remarked that the last time I was here, none of these people would have been born.

Clouds were gathering and the blue skies and relentless heat of the day was slowly diminishing. We circled round the top of the curve of cliffs that makes up Lochnagar, to catch a glimpse of its face from the eastern flank, with a view down to five deep blue pools at the head of the small lochan, in Lochnagar's northeastern coire, the Little Loch of the Noisy Sound.

On the way down, blending in well with the landscape, I spotted a Ptarmigan, motionless on a rock. It too had small chicks, which looked remarkably similar to the grouse from earlier.

Camp for the night was a little below the summit, at 950m, probably my highest camp in Scotland. It was by far a more comfortable spot than the previous evening. With everyone off the hill for the day, it was very pleasant to enjoy the evening and the landscape all to ourselves.

We awoke to thick cloud, and set off toward Loch Muick around 8.30am. The path is steep in places, hard packed and worn by many boots, which had ground down the granite rocks into tiny marble-like grains, which occasionally caused me to slide and lose my grip.

The going was slower than either of us had expected, but eventually we dropped out of the clouds beside a cascading waterfall, and down to the shores of Loch Muick. At the bottom of the path stands an abandoned, rather grand-looking lodge, built, so I'm told, for Queen Victoria to be able to take a boat trip up the loch for afternoon tea.

As you do.

We rounded the western end of the loch across a beach covered in geese footprints. Out on the water we could see large numbers of birds, most likely the ones that had left their prints on the beach, and we wondered if they were in fact resident there all year round.

Our final ascent was steep and long, but not as bad as it had looked from afar. The ridge ahead was shrouded in low cloud, but as we reached the summit it started to clear. We had come full circle, and stopped for our lunch just meters away from our first nights camp. We retraced our steps back to the car park, along the same track through the glen, beneath craggy peaks and wild flower meadows.

My achilles had held up not too bad, though by the end, after what was, afterall, a long hike from Lochnagar, I was grateful to be finished. Four Munros, albeit the hard work done on the first afternoon, felt quite satisfying. Five for Pauline, but it had been many years since I have stood atop any Scottish peak.

It felt good to be back.

BACK ON THE HUNT FOR THE FERRIES

This is getting to be a habit, only posting every two weeks. Maybe it's a thing I'll continue, just so you don't get bored with my chat!

With a low tide forecast and the glorious summer weather continuing, I set off once again to capture footage for my documentary film, The Last Ferries Of Ballachulish.

Despite it being the week before the Scottish schools went on their summer break, the Highlands were surprisingly busy. I dread to think what it must be like now!

On a misty, chilly morning I left Edinburgh just after sunrise, with Glenelg, near Skye, as my destination. The low cloud and mist didn't lift until I was well past Stirling, but until that point it was all motorway anyway, so I didn't miss much.

My route north took me through spectacular Glencoe, on to Fort William, Spean Bridge and Kintail. Just a short distance after Spean Bridge I detoured down to the Caledonian Canal at Gairlochy, to reshoot pieces-to-camera at the old wreck on the shores there. Once rumoured to be the remains of the Glen Duror, it is now a mystery itself.

I was only half way to Glenelg by this point, and the clouds were starting to gather. By the time I took the steep and winding Mam Ratagan pass from Kintail over to Glenelg, I had lost the best of the weather. However, as it turned out, filming the Glenachulish turntable ferry from the air would have proved almost impossible, with any bright sunshine reflecting of the surface of the Kyle Rhea waters, so as it turned out it was perfect for filming.

I love visiting this ferry, and without fail it always brings a tear to my eye when I hear her engine and glimpse her Ballachulish colours for the first time.

A familiar sight is the skipper Donnie, and it was a joy to sit a while over a coffee and let the world go by, despite a few cars already aboard the Glenachulish waiting to cross, the drivers and passengers scratching their heads, wondering what time departure was.

Across the other side of the water a Sea Eagle swooped down on fish near the surface, then flew off to it's nest, where this year they have two successful young.

Watching the world go by does not stop the clock, and to my surprise it was already 5pm by the time I decided to make tracks back down the road. I bade farewell to the Glenachulish, who will turn 50 next year, and headed south for the Isle of Mull.

Just a few miles south of Fort William is a roll on, roll off ferry, taking cars and passengers across the tiny 300m span of Loch Eil where it meets Loch Leven, onto the Ardnamurchan Peninsula. I was heading to Lochaline, and a small B&B for the night, 40km along a single track road, which has to be one of the prettiest little roads I've ever been on.

As night fell a full moon rose over Duart Castle far away on a promontory of land on Mull.

At 7am I was aboard the CalMac ferry that would take me the three kilometers across to Fishnish on the Isle of Mull. From there, under glorious blue skies, I headed for Ulva on the west coast. Single track road all the way, surrounded by stunning scenery, looking out to the Treshnish Isles, Coll and Tiree beyond on the horizon. My goal was to capture aerial shots of Ulva and the 50m crossing from the island where the Glen Duror saw her last service.

Just around a corner of land, in a small bay, lies the wreck of the actual Glen Duror. Carrying heavy camera gear on my back, a steel flight case in one hand and a tripod slung over my shoulder, I battled my way through shoulder-high bracken to reach her. It was evident the winter had taken another toll on her. Though I had the footage I needed from my last visit nine months ago, I decided to shoot more. 

But my main reason for coming back was to wade out into the water, to what I had seen was the line of her bow from an aerial shot taken on my previous visit. By the time I reached the front I was already waist deep in water, and underfoot was precarious with slippery seaweed growing around all manner of rusted metal parts. The tide just wasn't low enough.

I would have to return another day.

Job done, I bade farewell to the old girl again, and headed for the large CalMac ferry that would take me onto the mainland and the town of Oban. Ahead was an hours drive north to Ballachulish, my childhood home from almost 50 years ago.

As I drove across the ugly Ballachulish Bridge the light was beautiful, so I detoured off the main road to capture new aerial shots of the bridge and surrounding area. As I did so I realised that had I not arrived here when I did, the sun tomorrow would be in the wrong position for the shots I wanted to capture.

The evening was unbearably hot in the youth hostel, and despite paying for a room, I decided to sleep in my car, which, though not as a comfy as a mattress, was preferable to sleeping in a pizza oven!

On the last morning I met up with Kate once again, daughter of Peter McKenzie, the last ferryman of Ballachulish, and the one I identify with from my childhood. Her and I, in her words, are probably the last two remaining people who feel so passionately about the old turntable ferries, so it is always a pleasure to meet up.

With a few more shots ticked off, I headed 20 miles south toward Appin, to shoot the ruins of Castle Stalker, which sits atop a small island, before turning the car toward Edinburgh, and the three hours back through ever increasing tourist traffic.

It had been a whirlwind tour over three days, but as before, it was an absolute joy across arguably the most beautiful country in the world . . . in my opinion.

T MINUS 4 WEEKS AND COUNTING

Well, that was a first; no blog last week! In my defence it has been a crazy week as I race to clear the decks before month end.

My film academy is just four weeks away, and to say I'm mildly terrified is probably a vast understatement. It seems my to do list grows bigger, not shorter. But things are easing off ever so slightly, as we now have enough youngsters signed up to run it successfully.

This past two weeks has seen a slight shift in the original idea, which has created the need for a larger team. Double in size to be precise, and I am little daunted at the way my role has become much more responsible.

That said, credit where credit is due, and in true collaborative filmmaking style I couldn't have got this far, or deliver what is ahead, without the immensely talented group of people onboard, who share the same vision as myself. What is very humbling is everyone's keenness to be involved.

I wont bore you with the details, but the two summer schools have taken an inordinate amount of work, which in no way seems to match what will be delivered. For nine weeks I have been just a few days short of seven days a week, which is largely because of all the bureaucracy that it takes in forming a new company, at the same time as delivering on my other work commitments.

And it is the other work commitments that have filled every space, but that is coming to an end very shortly, thankfully.

The word is getting out there as well. During the past couple of weeks the Edinburgh Evening News ran a very encouraging article on the Film Academy, which was closely followed, at great surprise, by MSP Gordon Macdonald reading out a motion in the Scottish Parliament all about my vision, seconded by nine other MSPs.

That was a fall-off-the-chair moment!

In Edinburgh the 2018 International Film festival has begun, and for the first time I feel a strong connection to the industry, on the cusp of possibly creating the next Scottish filmmaker. What a thing it would be to book tickets to see a film made by a former student.

One of our team is Shauna Macdonald, a Scottish actress with an impressive career to date and without doubt a draw to our academy. In turn I have been privileged to work with her very own youth theatre in my local area of Portobello, and together with very talented youngsters we have created two films that premier tomorrow night locally.

After years of championing filmmaking for kids for many other organisations, I am keeping my fingers and toes crossed that this plan works out for the long term.

ROYAL DEESIDE WAY

As you get older you have to work harder to maintain your fitness. Actually, regardless of age, you need to put the work in. But for the past two months I've hardly moved from in front of the computer, putting together my new film academy for kids, seven days a week, and as a result my fitness has plummeted. To add to that my trousers no longer need a belt.

But above all I needed a break, and despite the expanding waistline, and maybe partly because of it, I turned to my ever reliable friend Pauline to organise a three day cycle trip.

Public transport is not always conducive to accessing some of the harder to reach places, so a while back I invested in roof-top cycle racks for the car and put them to good use last weekend on a two night foray to Aboyne on Royal Deeside.

We decided to have a wee bit of a luxury break and set ourselves up with our tent in a campsite just outside Aboyne village. And we even packed a fold up table and chairs! Well, you never know when you might come across a layby that beckons for a tea stop!

It was a joy to be able to cycle without any heavy gear, and late Saturday afternoon we set off west out of Aboyne on the back roads to Glen Tanar National Nature Reserve, just inside the Cairngorms National park. Just a short ride there and back, but my legs were already complaining.

Glen Tanar has been owned and run by the Coats family since 1905, and it is a spectacular glen, with its entrance marked by the Tower of Ess, a 3 storey, square-plan folly tower.

Just a short distance in was a small church, peaceful and silent, before our track up the glen toward the old pinewoods. On this occasion we didn't venture far, but it was enough of a taste to want to return in the future.

On Sunday we set our sights on reaching Peterculter, a small village 40km east of Aboyne toward Aberdeen. For the most part we were on good track, either old railway routes, walking paths or forest trail, following the route of the Deeside Way. One section was pretty steep, and as Pauline powered up it as if it weren't there, I stepped off my bike and pushed, such was the appalling level of my strength and fitness.

As we passed through deep woods the track weaved its way through vivid yellow blossoms festooning every gorse bush in sight, with the smell of coconut hanging in the air. It was at this point that we came across what seemed to be one or two walkers on the Kilt Walk, a sponsored event that takes place several times in different areas over the year in aid of various charities.

Having passed through Banchory, our halfway stage, I noticed we had the company of an old railway line. There hasn't be a service here since the 1960s thanks to Dr Beeching, but these rails had a polished top surface. Something was running on them regularly.

Within a short distance we came upon the tell tale plume of smoke from a steam trains boiler fire, and stopped a while to admire the small steam engine, lovingly restored by local volunteers and enthusiasts.

A few kilometers beyond Banchory, on a narrow path section, we hit a wall of walkers. It started with just the odd one or two, which grew literally into several hundred! We had no idea this event was taking place, and it became obvious our plan was scuppered, so we took the first opportunity to get off the path and turn back. It was a shame, but more to explore on a future trip I guess.

That evening we had a real treat; on the pond that the campsite borders on were a family of swans.

Six very young signets and their parents thought nothing of wandering up out of the water and taking a stroll around the camp ground. The Sunday night was a lot quieter, and I think the swans knew this. Several times in the evening they would wander by, surveying their kingdom, picking up the odd scrap of food left by campers.

On Monday, sure in the knowledge there were no more walking events, we turned our bikes west and set out for Ballater, following the Deeside Way to its starting point.

For me this was the best day. Maybe because of the lack of people I guess, but there was something great about the long straight stretches of old railway track disappearing off into the distance, through tall standing forests of pine and birch, that made it a lot of fun, tracks that my American friends would call "Rails to Trails", which I think we should adopt.

Occasionally we would come across an old platform, mostly overgrown and crumbling, but at one such old station the building was still there, lovingly preserved, presumably as a bolt hole for some lucky person.

After what seemed a very short time, we pulled into Ballater, which surprisingly was a first for me. The train came to an end at a construction site, which turned out to be the ongoing renovation of the old railway station building, soon to open as a museum, complete with a restored Queens Carriage. Again, another reason to return.

To add variety to our return journey, about halfway back to Aboyne we detoured to Muir of Dinnet Nature Reserve. It was to be a brief visit, but we were there to see a particular natural phenomenon called Burn O'Vat. About 16,000 years ago this entire area was covered in ice kilometers deep.

As it started to melt a relentless torrent of water cascaded down the gorges, and in one particular place it slowly, over 2,000 years, the debris carried downstream began to carve out this enormous cauldron.

Gradually the base filled with silt, so only half of it is now visible, but it was an incredible site, like some vast open cave, with perfectly smooth curved openings on either side, each some 15m wide.

With this whole area offering so much in diversity I know we will return. I just have to work on that fitness. Maybe I should get an exercise bike?

Oh, wait, I have one!

MARKETING MARKETING MARKETING

My life seems consumed by all things marketing at the moment. I am a man obsessed, as I continually look at new and inventive ways of publicising my new film academy. Google has been my friend by way of researching the best avenues, most of which I have now engaged with.

Google itself is a necessary monster, and I've had to engage with them directly in the US over the past few weeks. I may use modern technology in my film making, but the world of the internet and search engines in particular continues to be a mystery to me, so having access to those who know it inside out has been invaluable.

The Film Academy wasn't appearing at all on Google searches, primarily because it is so new, so there was no choice but to pay for an advert, which as you can imagine, is enormously expensive. Every time someone clicks on my advert listing, I pay Google money. And it's not a set amount. It's basically an auction, so if anyone else is advertising the same thing, and they have a bigger budget, the cost of each click for me goes up. It's all a bit mad, and with Google having very little competition, I end up paying what they deem the right price, and I have virtually no choice if I want to be seen. They also have something called Google My Business, which is free to create. Have you ever noticed when you search for a company and when they come up, a box appears on the right sometimes, with details about that business? That's Google My Business.

Google has generated zero sales for me, but I have to keep doing it or I won't appear on people's searches.

Though I hate so called "social" media, I have had to embrace it, from Facebook to Instagram and Twitter. Luckily I have help from someone who is very much into it.

Then there's print. This is the sort of advertising I'm familiar with, and though it has little value these days, it still has to be done. With A4 posters, A5 fliers and A6 postcards in hand, I have been busy delivering a set of each to all the private schools in Edinburgh, and every public library. Shops in the vicinity of schools are next, which is a much bigger job.

I placed ads in magazines that are aimed specifically at school parents, and which go home with every school kid in the Lothians. This was expensive, and so far there is no evidence that it has returned anything.

It used to be, a long time ago, that newspaper advertising was the first call. Now that is all but dead for promoting this type of thing. However, after careful research, I managed to get an interview with a reporter of a local newspaper, and within the next couple of weeks they will run an editorial, which is far better than any paid-for ad.

I'm lucky to be based in Edinburgh, and this month sees the International Film Festival, which run a youth hub for young people aged 15+. I have taken their publicity material in exchange for the organisers taking mine.

My final piece of the jigsaw has been to slowly create a relationship with a local school. That will culminate in running a couple of media classes for them for free, and in return I'll have the opportunity to promote the academy.

That seems a lot, and in many ways it is. But there can be no let up. Some of it costs next to nothing, apart from time, whereas others are very expensive, and spending money on marketing is no guarantee of success.

There is still one avenue I haven't used yet, that of local radio. I made the necessary inquiries, but at several thousand pounds for a handful of slots over two weeks, it's not something I'll be signing up for anytime soon!

To date the most successful campaign has been, without a doubt, Facebook. But, it has all been focused on particular demographics. Interestingly, when I ran a second campaign, it yielded virtually nothing, telling me that avenue is likely exhausted.

So for now the spend is on hold until mid June, when it all starts again during the last two weeks before the summer holidays.

So I'm having a much needed break, and heading out on my bike for a few days adventure, which I'll tell you all about next week.