I went to another screening at BAFTA tonight – this time for a film called “The King” which is well worth watching if you get the chance to see it. It’s about the pastor of a church whose past catches up with him when the son he sired with a Mexican prostitute tracks him down and right royally fucks up his life. The story unravels slowly and languidly and yet retains an unsettling tension throughout as well as examining the seamier side of human nature. As it was BAFTA there was a question and answer session afterwards (
like the one I attended with Alan Pacino) with one of the actors from the film and the director, producer and writer – all of whose names escape me just 24 hours later. The actor played Che Guevara in “The Motorcycle Diaries” if you can be bothered to google him. I don’t have internet access as I am writing this and am sure I won’t be arsed to look it up by the time I get to update this.
It was gratifying to hear these hugely successful men discussing how difficult the writing process was and how they had essentially thrown away draft 1 and then started again. So it’s not just me who finds writing a burden. When you see the fruits of all that labour up on a big screen it must make it all the pain seem worth it, though they admitted that budgetary constraints had meant they had had to leave sections of their script unfilmed. There were a few things that didn’t work for me and the two people I was with, but it was one of those films that you end up talking about in the bar for 45 minutes afterwards, which must mean that it has more than a little merit (that’s not water-tight. I have spent 45 minutes discussing Bo’ Selecta many times and that has no artistic merit at all – yes you’re right. I am just jealous. Yes that is what it is).
The question and answer session was as usual a mixed bag, though not quite as many crazies talking about or aggrandising themselves as last time. I was too shy to ask a question once again and didnÂ’t have a cracker like I had for Pacino. But thankfully the answers I heard gave me some succour and reaffirmed the old easily forgettable truth that you have to go through this unpleasantness I have been experiencing in order to create something worthwhile. Alas you can also go through it and create something shit that doesnÂ’t end up being discussed at BAFTA but just provides momentary warmth as it burns in a gigantic bin. By this time next week I must have that bin fuel in my hands.
