by Mathew Capper
‘To bed, or not to bed: that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of thieves,
And by opposing end them? To write; to create;
No more; and by words to say we end
the heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation
devoutly to be wished. To write, to create;
perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub;
For in that sleep of being heard, a nightmare occurs;
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause; there's the respect
That makes calamity of so long life;
For who would bear the words and scorns of power,
The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,
The pangs of despised creation, the law's delay,
The insolence of office and the spurns
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all;
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,
And enterprises of great pith and moment
With this regard their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of action. – Soft you now!
Are all my sins remembered?
To write, perchance to dream.’
Three things have happened over the last month or so that have lit a flame that was nearly extinguished. The first was being sent Boff’s poem- ‘the twat in the hat’, a perfect poem, both comical and to the point. The second was going to see the fantastic film ‘The kids are alright’, a genuine masterpiece and one of the most engrossing love stories with two of my favourite actors, Mark Ruffalo and Annette Benning, supported by the gorgeous Julianne Moore. The third was revisiting the film ‘Serpico’, which I don’t think I have ever enjoyed so much. Serpico was made in 1973 by Sidney Lumet and Dino De Laurentiis who died today.
Why these Ramblings? Well hopefully the reader will understand by the end.
About eight years ago I made my first foray into film making by cautiously sending a script called ‘Contenders’ to our very own Tod Davies and Alex Cox who were then based in Liverpool with Exterminating Angel films. The day after sending, I received a voice message from Alex followed by a call from Tod saying they loved the script and would produce it, even providing a budget for costs and to feed the cast and crew. They also said I should direct. Slightly bemused, because I only expected a token email maybe after three weeks of sending, I proceeded to put a team together to make the thing. Through Alex, Drew Schofield jumped on board and I found three other actors. My first mistake was casting someone who was an acquaintance and couldn’t perform the part, thus cutting the finished piece from 27 minutes to twelve. That aside the finished film (available on all good youtubes) went to several festivals and came second in an audience award at the commonwealth festival, so a thoroughly good time was had by all, especially me.
The problem, looking back, is that although I think this is exactly how films should be made, I think in a strange way it all happened too easily. As with Serpico where a script was sent to Dino De Laurentiis who then put a team together based on a passionate vision of what he thought the film should be rather than second guessing what sort of market was out there. At the time the studios felt there was no mileage left in police dramas, they didn’t want Pacino as the lead with a supporting cast of unknowns and they didn’t want Sidney Lumet to direct. It was the producers who held their ground and made, what is widely considered, a masterpiece. In my own naïve way I thought this is how films, on whatever level, are made.
I wouldn’t have it any other way I hasten to add, and I’m eternally grateful that I was supported in that way by good honest people. After that I thought features would naturally follow and a career beckoned as a successful screenwriter and director. The first wake up call was delivered by North West Vision who were in attendance at the commonwealth film festival and invited me to discuss another short film. On arrival I was greeted by a script editor from Emmerdale (a diabolical soap) and the lady in charge of funding in Liverpool. They tore into my idea, firstly because it was written in the wrong font, and secondly because they wanted to involve one of their own writers and spend some development funds. I rejected the idea, and never went back.
I met another writer called Mike through Tod who had a great feature script called ‘Quiz Night’ and we went to the Berlin film festival in the hope of attracting some European money. We had a great time but neither of us could endure the cocaine ravaged producers we met who only seemed interested in making horror movies. So that fell south and we drifted apart, Mike to travel Vietnam and me to work in the Criminal Justice field and to make babies with my new found love.
I continued writing of course because I believe writers write and I think it’s rare to find anything out there that is particularly good, which doesn’t mean that I think anything I write, is particularly good.
Bukowski says it better when talking about Barfly-
“No matter what you do in life people are going to say you do it for another reason than what you’re doing it. I just do it because I do it like a spider makes a web, a fish swims; I drink and I gamble and I write.”
Except, I don’t drink.
As the years passed I had a few articles and interviews published and I decided to try the old game again and send someone a script. I though about following in the footsteps of Stel Pavlou who, as the story goes, sent a script called ‘51st state’ to Tim Roth who passed it onto Samuel L Jackson who in turn produced and starred in it paying Stel a million pounds for the rights. There was a Liverpool writer done good, I thought. The fact that the film, which I appear in, is a disgrace should not deter me, but it did. So I wondered who I could approach closer to home. There was only one option, the right honorable Jimmy McGovern, who has cornered the ‘gritty, urban, Northern market’ for about the last twenty five years. But what to write, I thought? Write about what you know, came the answer, so I did. I wrote the first episode of a series called ‘Criminal Justice’. The series was to contain six episodes featuring a different story each time based around my experiences of working in the Community Justice Court in Liverpool.
The Community Justice Court or CJC as its known is a court set up in a Liverpool housing estate as an alternative to the local magistrate’s court. There is only one Judge, called David Fletcher who tries to get to know defendants and deliver alternative sentences to prison. He is particularly involved in the treatment of drug addicts and sees prison as the wrong place to send them. That is where I came in. Anyone arrested for an offence linked to drug use is tested for class A drugs in police custody. If they test positive for Cocaine or Heroin they have to start treatment, which is ordered through the CJC. A great idea in theory, but not so in practice, but that’s for another rambling.
The first and only completed episode focused on an addict called ‘Pete’, who is ordered through Judge Fletcher to attend treatment and start a detox from Heroin. He is spared jail on the proviso he sticks to a treatment plan. The story focuses on his struggle to break away from old associates and stay clean. The climax is him having one more hit and overdosing; perfect gritty, northern stuff, I thought.
As luck should have it, about two years ago I met Jimmy taking his grandkids to a place called the Yellow Sub in Liverpool. We exchanged email addresses and I began my usual barrage of emails. I sent a short story first which was published on this site; he loved it and commented on the unexpected ending. I told him about my idea and he asked whether I had seen ‘Needle’ which was about drug addiction. I had and told him it was far better than Trainspotting, which it is. The bait had been laid, the trap set, so I sent him my idea called ‘Criminal Justice’, and the first episode called ‘On your Own’; Nothing, no response. Two further emails and the response came that he was extremely busy and didn’t have time to read my script. No problem, I thought, as I knew Jimmy was busy executive producing numerous television series, always employing a team of talented writers to do the donkey work. A tactic he’s actually always used as he is credited more as a ‘Creator’ than ‘Writer’. I didn’t really mind, I thought the idea was probably shit anyway and the episode even worse as I never spend time re-writing or editing, because I’m too lazy.
The script languished on a shelf, I didn’t dare to re-read it through embarrassment, who was I to think that the great McGovern would be interested in my little story. I plodded on as always, writing my ramblings and attempting to get paid for articles in magazines.
About twelve months passed.
About two months ago I heard there was a new series being done by McGovern and his crew interestingly called ‘Justice’. No I thought, this is just a co-incidence; except it isn’t. It’s about the CJC and Judge Fletcher. You see you can’t copyright ideas, I know that, even I am not that naïve. It’s just nice to be invited to the party, even if you turn it down.
I’m sure my idea and script were never read; I’m sure the idea came naturally to those involved; I am not the only person to know about the CJC and Judge Fletcher, it’s out there for all to see. I’m sure the stories will be great; after all he employs the same writers from series to series, all very talented people in their own right. One is Jimmy’s plumber turned writer. I’m not sure whether he’s a better plumber or writer but the important thing is, he’s in bed with the Jimmy; not literally, Jimmy is married to, by all accounts, a wonderful women who works in charity. Being in bed with the right people is what counts. You stand in line, know your place and dish out the clichéd rants about how Jimmy should be a Hollywood script writer, and then you get to work.
I’d rather stay out of the bed, I think. Maybe I am just envious but sacrificing your very soul is too painful for me; it’s like cutting off your arms for the chance to spar with Mohammed Ali.
The market has been cornered. Jimmy is the Heinz of the tomato based bean product and there’s no point competing. He is a multi award winning creator of numerous gritty dramas; he is the very creative heart of good working class tales. He IS Liverpool. He could have gone to Hollywood and blown them all away, but then Liverpool is all too full of people with great stories to tell and tragedies that need the McGovern magic.
Maybe it is important to bed the right people, maybe I’m just bitter, twisted and naïve. After all the halcyon days of 70’s film making are far gone. It’s the market that is far more important than the product, get that right and anyone can be a writer; anyone can be a famous pop star or celebrity. But surely if we keep chomping down that myth then all art has gone down the toilet?
Thank god for Boff’s poem, thank god for film makers like Lisa Cholodenko, thank god for good honest people. I’m off back to the bitter and twisted viewer screaming from the sidelines.
Anyway that’s another nail in my coffin.
At least I’ve got this cracking idea for a musical about twins separated at birth who meet again through chance. It’s called ‘Brothers of blood’. I’ve sent it to Willy Russell and fingers crossed I’ll hear something back.
Footnote 16.12.10
Everything I have written above pales into insignificance after viewing John Pilger’s 'The war you don't see’; a film buried away on ITV’s late night schedule. It reminds me of everything I already know but makes it all some how more sinister and depressing.
The treatment of Murdoch’s number one target- Julian Assange is a disgrace and anyone interested in staging a demo/stunt in London should contact me through my email mathewcapper@hotmail.co.uk. Maybe something my auntie did in the 70’s-chaining herself to Buckingham Palace? Something positive and fun; I think about ten of us could be a good number.
‘That’s Life’ by Frank Sinatra just came on the radio, things like that keep me alive, and Boff’s poem, and some movies like ‘the kids are alright’. The likes of McGovern and his cronies are irrelevant and have absolutely no social commentary value, other that to be a part of the great distracting machine.
You can view Pilger’s film here http://www.itv.com/itvplayer/video/?Filter=198443.
Anyways I’m off to plan something, I can’t keep just watching from the sidelines.