Harvesters

This afternoon, at 6pm, we watched the Hattersley films for the first time back to back, to get a sense of how they work as a unit. Brother Tim and his partner John came to Media City to watch them with us. It was very important to have them there in the edit suite, as when I watch one of my films for the first time with someone who hasn't worked on the project, I'm forced to view the piece objectively. I often sit and squirm and feel the need to apologise constantly. Sometimes I see problems for the first time, but on this occasion I merely sat back and enjoyed what we’d created, and actually felt very moved. The films work well as a suite.

I have to say, having whinged about feeling a little neglected up here, I’m beginning to realise that I’m actually simply being trusted, for the first time in my career, to get on with things in my own way. Perversely, if the Manchester folk hadn’t taken this approach with me, these films would never have been made the way that I wanted to make them. I realise it’s been a shrewd and deliberate choice on their part, so instead of being shirty, I should actually be feeling a huge amount of gratitude towards them (and possibly a tiny bit of guilt!)

I’m enjoying the edit. It’s not at all stressful, and the time flies by with Keith and Phill (who is a brilliant editor). The three of us seem to have entered a competition to see who can make the most shocking remark. This is a competition I expect to win hands down!

Tim, John and I went to a Harvester for our tea. Our Grannie, Girl, was a big fan of the Harvester just off the A45 in Coventry. It was where we were taken for a fancy meal; the salad cart was considered to be the height of luxury. It was at the Harvester that my Grannie uttered her most embarrassing ever remark (unless you count the day she accosted Carol Vorderman in the Countdown studio). Looking at a black man, who was sitting no less than five meters away, she shouted (because she was deaf) “I say, he’s been out in the sun a bit too long, hasn’t he?!” We were devastated.

Media City, I realised tonight, looks very beautiful in the rain. I think all plazas in Manchester are designed with this in mind. It does nothing but rain, after all, up here.

Pretty...

Pepys went shopping 350 years ago to buy his wife a pair of stands and a “hanging shelf” for her chamber. Mr Savill, the painter, arrived with the framed portraits he’d made of Pepys and his wife. They excitedly hung both pictures in the dining room, Pepys adding that “it comes now to appear very handsome with all my pictures.”