Cold - Now called Leopard

For the Love of Film

Working on the film 'Cold' was a complete coup for me and a great laugh. How I managed to land the job is slightly mind boggling even now; I'm still scratching my head actually, and I know I'm jammy and got in through the back door, but life's like that sometimes and perhaps it was finally my turn for a bit of good luck (Jeez at long last!). I'm proud of what everyone involved in the film has achieved, I think everyone's passion in their respective rolls has produced something wonderful (just wait.... you'll see!), and certainly as far as the sound and music is concerned it's been a very happy, laid back collaboration. Anyhow, I'm writing this post as several people have asked me about the film and the sound. My intention is to explain a bit about the sound process. That's my intention, but I can already tell I'll digress. Go make yourself a cup of tea, it's gonna be lengthy as I'm dreadful at editing myself. Please, do 'bare with'.

Having had a lifelong fascination with movies I learnt a little about the film-making process when I tried to break into the field by reading scripts, firstly for an animation producer and later as part of my job as PA to a film director. I was promised experience on set and in post production. In actuality I got very little out of it because the person in question thought it more important that I break my butt trying to get him into the Ivy three times a week, or sell his antiques, or book him a helicopter from Gstad to Courchevel for 'after lunch' because the train would take too long, and could I jump-start the Ferrari which had languished in the garage all winter? This was not exactly what I had in mind. But I learnt what I could (including how to be a complete bitch to restaurant maitre d's ~ a very important life skill... hey I said I would digress!). It was an experience though; there was never a dull moment; I read and critiqued scripts, watched the production department tear their hair out, fell out with my employer for not upholding his side of the bargain, and then took a career turn...funnily enough! 

During that whole 'Swimming with Sharks' duration and since then, my fascination for film has never diminished. I thought I'd never get a chance at the film biz again, but my marvellous husband Chips taught me the skills to edit audio books, which brought me Proust, which led me to twitter, where I found Eoin Macken, and Eoin gave us Cold. Bloody fantastic! Working on Cold with Chips has taught me such a lot more about sound (and about my husband), and Eoin, who seems to value my opinion (well, pretends to at least!), has been fantastic and unwittingly made my dream of working on a film come true! 

It all began with deciphering Eoin's characteristically cryptic tweets. Because I'm psychic (or psychotic...) I had a light bulb moment on our drive to the South of France last summer. Chips was beating the devil out of the road, the kids were tearing each other apart in the back and I was riding shotgun in that blissful state of limbo between destinations, allowing my mind to empty, and my eyes to become accustomed to an horizon further away than the 250 meters that London allows. It came to me that Eoin's obscure updates were about filming. Before leaving London I'd also asked him to recommend a book for my hols which he'd kindly done. He raved about Steinbeck's 'East of Eden' and said book was on my lap. 

Funnily it didn't please me in the least to realise he may possibly be remaking EoE. I adore that film and remaking what is considered a classic (by some) would have been foolhardy.  So I tweeted him and he responded that I'd guessed right! He was indeed filming something in the vein of EoE, but not a remake. Alleluia! How exciting, a breeze blew and all the angels sang! 

Back in London Eoin asked if I knew someone in sound who could work on Cold. I didn't put myself forward of course as I only know about one tiny part of sound editing, but I told him all about my husband Chips, who is a composing and sound genius and funnily enough had been working as dubbing mixer on Merlin for the past five years. This is only one of many coincidences and connections we've subsequently discovered; the world of film and TV is very small I suppose. Eoin sent me his script. I'd read a fair few screenplays before of course, mostly larger than life, gun-ho blockbuster types, but never one so beautifully well written as Cold. It is detailed to just the right degree as to allow it to play in your head, but not so over-described as to be a tome and novel-like. The story was unexpected, but wonderful.

So the three of us met up and got on, and discussed the film thus far as Eoin had yet to film the second block. Chips said I should definitely take on the dialogue editing, apparently I have an ear for it (only one mind..) and given Chips would be working alone on the rest of the sound process, which was a huge task, it was the least I could do. Not that I was confident I'd be any good... it was quite some learning curve, but I practised on various things, yet still worried I'd break something, maybe even the entire film. 

So here's my version of the technical bit. I'll try make it as concise as I can (cos I know you ain't sound nerds..)! 

The most important sound to capture is a clean recording of the dialogue. If the speech isn't well recorded the actors will later have to be recalled to do ADR (Additional Dialogue Recording), and no actor likes doing that. The zone the actor was in at the moment of filming is difficult to recapture and so additional recording might sound stilted. 

On set, boom microphones are used (things on sticks, or if outside: things on sticks with a fluffy sock on, held up there by someone with Herculean stamina) and each actor wears a clip mic (which you're not supposed to see or rub up against cos it makes an awful racket.. please stop acting and keep still!). 

In post production the dialogue editor (that was me....!!!) chooses the best recordings from the mics available (there can be many) pieces them together on a track, then totally deconstructs those recordings into various other tracks: one track for each actor's dialogue (extricating the words from all the other noises ~ in the case of Cold, mostly birds and wind (external, not the actor)). Each dialogue track contains words and breathing, grunts and sighs and snorts (..these are the things that amuse me). You also make several tracks of the sound effects (teacups, birds and more birds) and atmosphere tracks (wind, cars and whale-song). 

The effects editor/s (for Cold it was Chips) then lays additional tracks of atmosphere (more wind (external...) and water from library or separate recordings (STAY WITH ME!!!) and spot effects (trains and spaceships).

Then you have foley - the sound that couldn't be picked up during original recording but is  the glue which, I think, marries all the sounds and gives depth. Chips was foley artist with me at the recording buttons. We recorded at home at night because its quieter. It was a strange set up with me upstairs in the studio and Chips downstairs in the living room. We could see each other on our phones via FaceTime and for me it was strangely voyeuristic.... I have to say I watched my partner do the most peculiar things... kissing his arm, rubbing his clothes up and down, rubbing a pair of my stockings, thigh slapping, crouching and jumping on the spot like some rabid extra in Planet of the Apes.... Apparently 'skin' is best recorded, and I quote here, "slightly meatier". Consequently a slap, or placing a hand on flesh can sound super comical when recorded, and then gets toned down later. It certainly didn't help me that Chips gave each foley clip such a ridiculously literal say-what-you-see name like 'Bra Hand Boob'. Needless to say the foley had me in nightly stitches, to the point of busting a gut and I often forgot to switch my phone mic off... so you can still hear my suppressed Muttley wheezes on the recording (more editing there then...).

Foleying footsteps was a laugh, with Chips whipping off his trousers and dashing to fetch his bag of foley shoes, saying over his shoulder "I'm using Morgana's shoes from Merlin Series 3 here!". I expected 4 inch heels and was monumentally disappointed when he slipped into these: 

Blimey! They actually worked! 

Did I mention no trousers because the clothes rubbing sound gets picked up?

Ah, the recording was such a good time. I have to admit I was more than a little concerned about working with Chips so closely. We've always kept such separate work lives, which I'd previously and for years thought was important ~ you know, having your very own thing. I thought we'd bicker and argue. But he is seriously the funniest person I know, the only person on the planet who can evaporate an occasional dark mood of mine with just a look or a single quip. He is a walking encyclopaedia of sound who is infinitely patient, and quietly, surreptitiously, loony. Shhhhh, don't tell.     

Are you still with me? I haven't finished yet...

You then have Special Sound Effects made up of all kinds of shit. This is the best fun and the most creative part, and Chips is a master at it. I won't go into it because its a secret!

Lastly, after Chips did a pre-mix at home, we transferred to a studio in Soho, met up with Eoin and final mixed the film in 5.1 surround sound. This is where all the sound elements and music are all melded together. If you've read my post on Evora, you'll know how I love their music. Their tracks fit so beautifully into the scenes. I also think the film score is absolutely brilliant. I've never met Kevin Whyms, but I really can't wait to, because he sounds like a complete laugh and an all round good guy. His music is utterly perfect in tone and pace, underlining the mood and enhancing the emotion of the entire film. Not only does he hit the nail on the head mood-wise, the man works at an amazing pace! I'm in awe of him. 

So the sound elements are synced to the picture, mulled and agonised over, smoothed and equalised....... and then you finish. Gulp and Oh My God. 

If you've got this far I salute you!

You know you've done a good job with the sound if nobody notices it at all, so a massive amount of effort is made for little recognition. This is why, in my opinion, sound guys are the under-rated and often unsung heroes of the film process ~ most folks don't realise the shear amount of work that goes into making a film simply sound believable. You won't be wining prizes for a good radiator sound when an actor bumps into one, but subtle additions as these enhance and improve a scene immensely. It was great that Eoin appreciated the quieter parts of the foley/sound process just as much as the obvious 'big bang, lets weird it up' special effects parts, although of course those were the most creative things to make and consequently the most fun! 

Oh, its all part of the rich tapestry of film-making, and as Danny Boyle says, sound and music are the 'invisible manipulators' in film. Yep, I can't improve on that.

So I've been involved since the end of shooting of the first block, and have seen the film goodness knows how many times in all its various stages. I can recite every single last line, so don't go sitting next to me in the auditorium now. The script and story were excellent to begin with, but Eoin and the film editor Vicky Tooms (who clearly loves her work and has such infectious enthusiasm) have made improvements on the original script to make an even better film. I know Eoin agonised about cutting characters ruthlessly, but in doing so the film has been honed, is more concise and succinct, and the story is better for it. Eoin & Vicky cut down hours of film and I can't even cut down this silly blog post! I respect their skills all the more! 

I've no idea what Eoin is like on set, but in post he is a wonderfully laid-back director, takes time to listen to ideas, he's creative, open-minded and trusting, consequently you want to do all you can for the guy. As a person he is empathetic, 'simpatico' and makes me laugh a lot :D. He's put all his many skills together and has made a truly wonderful film. I'm nervous and excited and proud. Very proud of everyone involved. I can't wait for you to see it.

For me the beauty of Cold lies not just in the way it looks, but in the fascinating manner in which it can be interpreted in different ways, and will mean different things to different people. 

That and the sound of course. ;-)

Dancing

Or
What if the Hokey Kokey is what it's all about?

I don't know why dancing has always been a thing with me. Scientists may have mapped the human gee-gnome but they're a long way off pin-pointing the dancing gene. Where the hell it hides and how it's passed on is a mystery, but I do know I inherited this particular trait from my father, ever the groover, twirler and throw-you-back-so-your-hair-sweeps-the-floor tangoist extraordinaire. At the sound of a good beat, whatever the genre, he can't help toe-tapping, and given the right occasion his paso-doble days are far from over. That's where my parents hail from, the latter line of Spaniards who for generations have held each other tight and swayed and turned to live bands beneath the stars, in the relative cool of the humid southern nights.

Until I hit a self-conscious age I loved nothing more than the late night Spanish summer fiestas where cigarette smoke hung heavy and mingled with the smell of jasmine and cologne. I was allowed to stay up in my best bib and tucker and ran around with my cousins, loon-like, surreptitiously sipping my folks sangria, as the entire community pushed through til dawn. Dad was renowned as a good dancer and can also hold a pretty impressive note. He was so good that the ladies would queue up to dance with him. My arthritic ma would sit and gossip, shushing away Dad's appeasements, telling him to get on with it when he explained it was the ugly ones that danced the best! Now and then dad would grab me round the waist and away we'd go. It was like being transported into a Fred Astaire movie, I may not have known all the steps, but it didn't matter as he led so brilliantly well, it was like I was floating inside the music, everything else forgotten. It was amazingly uplifting. Adolescence arrived and I became more interested in the boys on the sidelines, but they didn't dance the same, if at all. I do however remember my very every first dance with a beautiful boy named Oscar. I must have been about seven, in a village in the Pyrenees. We did that hands on each others shoulders thing and shuffled round and round until we were giddy. That was a magical dance and was often replicated with different partners and (I hope) a little more style and passion through the years. Bliss.

Back home in England, living in the middle of nowhere, there were no dance classes my parents could feasibly get me to, which was such a shame. Still, I danced in the darkness in the neon glow of my adopted grandfather's music centre, mostly trad jazz, swing and Frank Sinatra. Eventually I discovered my own music and started going to parties. Aagh, I hated the reserve of my friends, it would take them forever or a gallon of cider to pluck up the courage and dance with me, huddled up close and self-conscious, spied on by the boys who would never join in!

I went to a few clubs in Hastings, but it wasn't until my move to London that I discovered fantastic places to dance, and less reserved friends that would wiggle along with me. I was unfussed quite honestly, skanking, lindy-hopping, salsa, rave, it all lifted me up and out of myself. I went to all kinds of clubs, but the gay clubs were of course the best. I was fortunate to join a young dynamic design company with a 'work hard, play hedonistically' ethos that partied virtually every Friday night through the mid 90s. No judgement, no reserve, just get down like there's no tomorrow. Kicking. I've also found that the very posh let rip with no reserve too. At charity balls, in me clinched-in taffeta with the boys on show - post five courses, the band strikes up and everyone, everyone gets up and rattles the old bones.... mostly to Roxy Music... Let's stay together.

The man shows willing, but dancing does not come naturally to him, the groove has to be just right and planets aligned for him to join in. Berlin seemed to fit the bill for him and was a complete blast - boy they know how to party in Kreutzberg! The man and I are both observers of people and we're passable mimics. He has a great ear and picks up subtleties in peoples accents and intonation that I can't even hear, let alone hope to replicate. I do however notice the way people move, their mannerisms and gait and my talent lies in replicating those, specially on the dance floor! Between us we've got our mates totally covered. Few people have known this but I love to subtly catch the man's eye and start 'doing' a mate, sometimes while dancing right next to them. If I'm hitting the nail on the head the man'll be in stitches. If I'm particularly on form I can have him feigning a coughing fit & exiting the dance floor. This gives me enormous pleasure. But lets keep it to ourselves please...

Apart from being swept up in the music, I guess one of the main reasons for loving to dance is the escapism and respite from the stresses of the day and the sheer joy of being alive, for me its a basic instinct. It's also a leveller, be it among the posh, the not so, the bosses and colleagues. There's a crowd of my kid's parents I've known for years now but only danced with for the first time at a party the other month, it brought us closer. It was really nice.

It takes a confident person to dance alone, and even more confidence to really feel the beat and let rip. You give something away when you dance, perhaps baring a part of your very soul, and some people just can't stand that, finding it far too intimate to reveal. One tweep made me laugh by once telling me he'd rather copulate in public than dance (!!). Dear God. 

Yes there are some things I won't dance to. Thank you but no, I won't do the Macarena. Ever. I have been known to do the conga at weddings (due wholly to the affects of champagne) but my style will never be Gangnam. You can, if you will, join me down the Black Cap, amongst the well dressed gentlemen, Blaming it on the Boogie. 

Evora

Should you happen to meet an admired luminary at say, a fan convention or such, and if you managed to overcome your innate shyness in the presence of said personage to enough of a degree as to actually converse in a half-way coherent manner, you may perhaps come to the conclusion that the guy in question, namely front man of Howth's home-grown band Evora, is, like you, intrinsically shy. This was my initial impression of Alan Rickard. 

At that time, in November 2012, I knew the Evora songs featured in 'Dreaming For You' the film by Eoin Macken, notably 'Shelter' a guitar based scene stealer, and a softer, more melodic song, 'Diamond Tears'. Both are brilliant tracks that wriggle into, and remain, quietly nestling within the subconscious, and which perfectly compliment that darkly  engaging indie film. It was clear to me on first viewing that all those involved in the movie promised more and greater things to come. Kicking about with Alan for a bit between sessions at the con' and shooting the breeze about the music biz past and present, it also became clear to me that Alan's quiet exterior belies an eloquent, clear-sighted and steely character propelled forward by great determination. He is canny, hard working and has carried out Evora's PR and promotion with skill & expertise, like a person born to it. It also goes without saying the guy has talent in spades. 

At the convention I wanted to sit and listen to Alan play his guitar and sing, but as I was helping out I didn't get the chance to soak it all up. So it was that later during Q&As the thing that totally impressed me was Alan's ability to provide impromptu musical stings to Eoin's fanciful crowd banter. In that moment he was an ultra-confident, creative musical talent, possibly more at home lending guitar based punctuation marks to the craic of others, than joining in with actual words. (Can I use the word craic if I'm not Irish? Meh, it's St Patrick's day..) Here was a guy totally at ease with an axe in his hand, expertly wielding it and possibly using it as a shield or a form of protection.

I've got to know Alan a little more in the odd way that you can get to know people on Twitter. This soundbite-laden medium remains a constant fascination to me. Through it you can build a image of what you imagine a person to be genuinely like, its a bit like piecing together a complex puzzle and given that my twitter 'persona' is just a semblance of my more reserved self, I can only imagine that the same is true of other 'twitbuds'. However, I like to think the essence of a person comes across, but then again you can never tell! Getting to 'know' Alan has been great fun, he can be elusive or candid, funny or serious, polite or downright cheeky, a juxtaposition, an enigma and consequently utterly intriguing. The thing that gives the essence of the man away in fact is not the twitter communication, but the music. 

As I'm working on Eoin's next movie 'Cold' featuring new songs from Evora, I've been blissing out over the past weeks on their new tunes in live or unmixed form. I've eagerly awaited the release of their first album "Hurry Up Before I Die" with growing excitement and I'm sure I've worn even the patience of other fellow Evora Twitter fans paper thin with my constant plugging and retweeting of said album! 

I built expectations, so my first surprise was this: I anticipated the cover of the album to be a conventional shot of the band, taken perhaps at interesting angles, in an arty way. Wrong! I caught sight of the artwork in a tweet in the middle of the night and it took my very breath away. What I saw was beautiful and unexpected. No mug shots or fancy graphics here. Instead a simple, only slightly serif text situated in the top left hand corner of an image of a boy on an edge, leaning dangerously close to falling into....what? A river? An abyss? Life itself? It's open to your interpretation and therefore fascinating. Just like the frontman himself. Excellently well played Evora. Watching this band stand on the precipice of success and then plunge in is going to be endlessly fascinating!

Right, to the music then. For bands I love I never just buy the single, I get the entire album and so I preordered 'Hurry Up' as soon as I could. I tested the preview button when Alan requested to see if it worked... just for a minute second, I instantly recognised the tune from the film and was astounded at how lush and wonderful it sounded! I'm a purist and like to listen to albums from start to finish. OK, maybe I'm a bit OCD about books, film and music, I've got to give them their best shot, so I never read the last page, never jump songs on first listen and sometimes watch films 'cold' by avoiding all reviews and hype. I've also sat in recording studios and watched albums being put together. So I know the blood, sweat, tears and near fisticuffs that can go into producing them. Every note and sound is meticulously thought through and the running order painstakingly considered. The whole process is highly intense, all consuming and sometimes painful. Therefore the least I can do when buying an album is to listen to it from start to finish, in the order the band intended.

I knew that James Dean was mentioned in the lyrics of one of the songs, as Alan pointed out this coincidence after my last blog post. If you've read my previous post you'll know what JD means to me and the first line of the first song 'Close To You' is "I could be your James Dean". This instantly had me smiling and I didn't stop until, well I think I still haven't stopped actually! :) I know the album was written at around the same time as the script for Cold, which draws from the Steinbeck's classic 'East of Eden' in which James Dean starred, so I wonder if this is how the song was derived? The sound and tone of the song is lush and verdant and melodically uplifting, this is true of the album as a whole. I knew the acoustic version of the next song 'Started to Wish You Well' and to hear it all grand and lavish was wonderful.

I won't go into every song on the album. That is for you to discover and make up your own mind about. For me, the shock of the album was how tender and yearning the lyrics are and how wonderful and rich in tone the layers of sound are. Half way through the 3rd song I was thinking, blimey, this album may well be a classic... I knew Evora were good, I love the old songs & the present single, but I have to admit, to my embarrassment, I must have underestimated them because I just didn't expect to have such an intense and instantly positive reaction to the album. A fabulous, exciting thing. The enduring feel of the album as a whole is both uplifting and melancholic at once. The words are wishful & longing, it is beautifully harmonised with lush backing vocals, along with being wonderfully and cleanly produced. There are fantastically effective key changes (Into the Fire) and genius counter point (Fall Away & Jangle). The song Jangle gives Evora's Irish roots away completely, I know there was discussion about the title, and had I known before, I might have suggested 'Diddly' myself..... I jest!! I love to dance (check out my next post soon) and If you sing about dancing as well as this, using a glorious mandolin and harmonies raising the chorus to the very heights, you're onto a winner! 

For me, all the songs hit hard, like 'In Your Eyes' (deadly) 'Meet me by the Water' and Fall Away. Definitely Fall Away. That one is a total killer. And oh the voice... *Bangs head on keyboard, thumps clenched fist on desk*

In Evora I can hear influences from bands that I love, all of them personal favourites of mine, the music I like to listen to when I'm happy, in France, on holiday. I've listened to this album in the day, in the night, in the bath, in the car. Now I cannot wait to hear it lying on the sand or in lush green grass staring up at the summer sky. Music wallpapers my life and I make up my own personal soundtrack daily. Music evokes emotion and memories and 'Hurry Up Before I Die' will ever be the portal that transports me back to this very moment in time. An exciting, happy time, one that I am absolutely loving.

Thank you Alan. Thank you Evora.

James Dean

It's a sign of old age I'm sure: the books and films which affected me deeply as a teenager have stayed with me and are vivid in my mind, yet ask me about a film I saw 6 months ago, and, unless it really blew my socks off, I can hardly remember it at all. Is this form of amnesia truly due to aged braincells? Or is it down to the fact that one remembers what one is moved by, and due to my advanced years and having been buffeted and weathered by life and experience, I've evolved into the cynical and sarcastic old bint that I am. Consequently it takes an awful lot to affect me these days, and even more to impress.

I can still taste the despair of Jude the Obscure which I read on holiday in Spain at the age of 16. Around the same time I was rocked to the core at my first viewing of Rebel Without a Cause. Although made in the 50s I totally identified with the teenage angst and feeling of alienation that that film conveyed. I'm still in love with James Dean. I'm still in awe of his astounding method acting and intrigued by the stories that turned him from awkward mortal into untouchable golden demi-god.

There's something about the man that just radiates light for me. The shy smile, the awkwardness, the passion. Given the subject matter of RWAC and with hindsight I now understand why it hit a nerve, one which still resonates to this very day. I first discovered the James Dean films when my parents and I relocated to London from the depths of the countryside. I was culture-shocked and resentful at having been uprooted. I made no effort to make new friends, maybe as a coping mechanism for the heartache I was experiencing at being wrenched away from my clan. The Everyman Cinema was virtually on my doorstep. In RWAC I discovered my feelings mirrored and portrayed right there on film. My inarticulacy and frustration, my feelings of being a misfit and misunderstood, the despair & despondency in my family's inability to understand me were all played out by JD's characters one way or another in all three of the films. In RWAC Jim Stark (Dean's character) was considered off the rails, and I was thought a belligerent 'handful'.This period seemed to last forever, but couldn't have been more than a few months. 

In those days the Everyman Cinema was not the chi-chi champaign chain it is now. It was a large single-screened, dusty chic auditorium with uncomfortable seating, a proper rep/art-house that sold flap jacks and wagon wheels in the foyer. It had a little kiosk box attached to the outside, green and wart-like. On Saturdays the wart cocooned a gorgeous film school student who sold the tickets with a lightbulb smile and easy banter. I hid away there and I learnt a lot about film in just a few months. Hitchcock, Cocteau, Dali, Scott, Scorsese even (with a little help from the student), and the James Dean films. 

Slowly London began to appeal, the vintage poster shop in Brewer Street was visited and for a while I sought refuge in the dead past, one that couldn't break my heart. James Dean, Marilyn Monroe, Steve McQueen, John Lennon plastered my bedroom walls. I'd go to double bills of 'Rebel Without a Cause' and 'East of Eden' and also 'Giant' which at some three hours long was usually shown on its own. Hardly communicating with my parents at all at that time, it was of course Rebel that I couldn't get enough of. The styling, the look, but mostly the story and JD. If shipping existed back then, I'd be writing dark dark stories about Jim Stark and Plato that would make your hair stand on end.

The queue of fifties throwbacks waiting to go in to the films wound up the Vale with girls in leggings & ponytails and boys in red jackets. All identified with Jim Stark. You can still see that same rockabilly tribe in Camden which has evolved only very slightly over the years, it's the same tribe that spawned Amy Winehouse. Yep I created a small 'Camden roll' for myself, nothing like a beehive and wore wound up bandanas alice-band like in my hair. I stuck to the black clothes I still predominately wear today, with a black eye-liner tick and a Gauloise or Gitanes placed strategically between deep red lipstick. Ha ha. I'm laughing now! Silly, silly me! I loved dressing that way.

Time has dulled my feeling for RWAC only slightly and as it churns up feelings I'd rather forget it is now East of Eden that I'll watch to bask in Dean's glory. It is a true masterpiece taken from the last part of a much longer book bringing to life the struggle between two bothers for the approval and love of their father. There are many biblical references and some wonderful photography.  I love the scene in the funfair where Cal (Dean's character) and his brother's girlfriend take a carousel ride together. It is awkward and uncomfortable and famously Dean is said to have not gone to the loo for a day to help convey the discomfort. I just love that!

The best Dean story of course comes from the great Alec Guinness. One night Dean pulled up outside an LA Restaurant in the new Porsche he'd just had delivered which he was going to race in. Someone introduced him to Guinness who later said he'd no idea where the voice came from, but out of the blue he found himself warning Dean not to drive the car, or else he'd be dead within a week. If only Dean had listened to the wisdom of Obi-Wan. A week later he died behind the wheel of the Porsche in an horrific car crash on his way to the race. The first live fast, die young icon.

So many other stories surround Dean's personal life. His affairs with complicated women, and other men and the occult. Back then it was all so taboo and unspoken for fear of reprisal. What a shame. Thank goodness we live in a time where whatever floats your boat goes (well it does in my book anyway). The man was only 24 when he died, what a supreme tragedy. Sometimes I wonder what would've happened had he lived... would he have hit the boards and become an Olivier type or gone down the sadder, but no less great Brando route? Who knows.

When I thought Eoin Macken was suggesting he was filming a remake of EoE I was indignant and afraid for my beloved film. However, I was relieved to find this is not the case at all, he has only drawn from some of the elements of the book for his film Cold.

Funnily enough I now live right next door to the Everyman Cinema and strangely I'll soon be working on the dialogue editing on 'Cold'. Somehow I already know the film, the music and the whole experience is going to impress me and stay with me for a long time. It's funny how life goes round in circles, like some weird carousel.