Diary of a Documentary

25. Fishing for Oyster Footage

2007-02-10T15:33:00.000+11:00

I have received a number of complaints that I have not posted anything new on my blog for some time. To be honest it's been so long that I can't even remember the last time I blogged!

My excuse? Seriously guys, I'm moved on to bigger and better things! Like documentaries about oysters...Mmmm, now that I write that, it no longer sounds so glamorous.

However, below is proof that I'm too busy to blog!

Leaving Bluff feeling rather buggered after a week of 5am starts

Katie very excited that she may have happened upon a name for a our film

A box of oyster shells is better than no oysters at all...I guess?

This old boat shed was only possible to reach at low tide

Filming Bluff township from a Tugg boat

Katie filming on the now retired oyster boat the 'Monica'

Filming under a typical Bluff sky

Katie filming Bluff from pier

Bluff habour

23. Gas Guzzlers

2006-11-20T13:26:00.000+11:00

I read the other day that market research into people who buy SUVs or large 4X4s shows that they are typically "insecure and self absorbed"...mmm, why does that not surprise me.

22. Photo Gallery

2006-10-17T09:05:00.000+10:00

I received a gift the other day! A CD of Kat Baulus photos. Kat has one of those very snazzy SLR digital cameras, which she pulls out at every opportunity and snaps us doing what ever it is we're doing. The nice thing about her shots is that they are rarely posed, and she has captured many a great moment.

The following shots are a tribute to our camera teacher Paul Donavan, whose classes were always interesting and fun, and I certainly learnt a hell of a lot...so thanks Paul.

Our camera teacher Paul Donavan.

Nick and I setting up the camera for shooting rabbits.

Shooting rabbits!

Our very handsome rabbit

Packing for Victory Beach: our first Wildlife Filming Adventure!

Walking to Victory Beach.

Setting up camp - Victory Beach

Julia and Alistair setting up the hide...Some how I don't think the seals were fooled.
Yes, as alwasy that's me in the back ground, eating!

Filming Penguins from inside our hide.

Louise and I - Dressed for the snow, on a beach! Man, it was chilly.

Judging the snail gardens. Katie's snail holiday home, complete with swimming pool and bicycle,
won first prize.

Paul demonstrating a Jib-arm.

Trying to film a flower using the Jib-arm...Ummm, it didn't really work so well.

Paul demonstrating Macro filming.

Kaite and Nick on the Dolly tracks, trying to work out how to use the camera...

Still trying to work out how to use the camera...

mmm...we have no idea how to use this camera!

'If there is one thing chopper pilots hate it's people slamming the doors'

Bored? No, just dreaming of aerial footage!

Paul reminds us not to slam the doors!

Qualified in 'Filming Safety in a Chopper'. Shame we never made off the ground.

Ed from the field store at NHNZ explains the ins and outs of Pole-cams.

Demonstrating the pole-cam and clam-shell recorder.

Drinks after a horrendous film pitching session!

21. Animal Rights and Irwin

2006-10-11T12:17:00.002+10:00

This is a section from a transcript of the ABC Radio National programme 'Encounter' on 'Animals' 1st October 2006... I wish I had said it as well myself.

What sort of rights do animals have? This week Encounter explores the theology and the ethics of pets, vegetarianism and zookeeping.

Binoy Kampmark: The modern concept of the zoo is a democratic one, in the sense that the public can now see it. In the historical sense, they used to be limited spaces for the aristocracy during the Enlightenment, or even earlier when we consider the Imperial Dynasts in China, these animals were to be kept as symbols of power and prestige.

David Rutledge: That's Binoy Kampmark, who's a Commonwealth Scholar at Selwyn College at the University of Cambridge. He's a regular visitor to Australia, and he recently published an article on zoos in Eureka Street magazine, in which he explored some of the apparent contradictions in the Australian love of native animals. Binoy Kampmark is in the ABC's Townsville studio in Far North Queensland.

Binoy Kampmark: There is this gladiatorial element here in Australia towards animals. A gladiatorial element that's very much reflected in the way Steve Irwin's Australia Zoo operates, and the whole idea about the project of demystifying dangerous animals. On the one hand, you demystify them by playing games with them, by tormenting them, by jumping on them - but at the same time there is also this element of contest. The animal may bite back, the animal may eat the child, the animal may do something that is akin to its nature. But as human beings we can still deal with them.

And I think there is this constant juggling that goes on with the animals, especially in certain parts of Australia where people aren't quite sure how to deal with the wildlife.

David Rutledge: Australians like to project this image of easy familiarity with dangerous animals - you know, when we're trying to scare British tourists we'll say, 'oh yeah, snakes, no problem'. Do you actually see that in the Australians that you've met here?

Binoy Kampmark: Well, I think there is a contrived familiarity. But when it comes down to it, Australians are terrified about their animals. There is a very ambivalent relationship between Australians and the wildlife they seek to promote. And this is reflected, I think by - you mentioned Steve Irwin: the fact that even after he was so tragically killed by the barb of a stingray, there was a retaliation against stingrays. Suddenly this figure that had been touted as a conservationist, and who had been encouraging so-called wildlife warriors to promote his legacy, suddenly this relationship with animals is manifested in this most violent revenge against the very creatures that should have been protected in the first place.

And this is one of the things that worried me in light of Irwin's passing. And it's in the language that is used in the whole context of conservation in this country - and I'm talking about not other conservationists, I'm talking about Steve Irwin's particular brand of conservation - I find it rather peculiar that a conservationist does what he did. I don't think a conservationist hauls crocodiles in front of cameras and jumps on them and pokes them, and wraps them up in rope.

It's a rather peculiar means of conservation, so that we have the issue of conservation as a word that has to be defined.

We also have the issue of - this is used without irony at all in this country - 'The Croc Hunter'. I always thought it was a very odd term in the first place, a 'crocodile hunter', what are we actually endorsing? An ironic sort of way of hunting crocodiles, but actually preserving them at the same time? There might be a nuance that I might have missed, I'm not sure.

And also certain words that are used in the language of Irwin's Australia Zoo. I was struck by the fact that this arena, this sort of amphitheatre, is called The Crocoseum. And when I first heard the word I was a bit taken aback, because I thought 'is it what I think it is? Is it based on a museum of artifacts, parading wild animals? Or is it based on the Colisseum?' - only we are referring back, of course, to the way animals were paraded in the arena in ancient Rome. And if that's the case, then it's quite sinister, because we're actually seeing - and it's probably more accurate - we're seeing animals paraded for sport in an arena.

David Rutledge: This ambivalence, though, it's taken to an extreme in this kind of context, but it's there just in the whole idea of zoos anyway, wouldn't you say? Where you have concern for animals in the abstract - you know, the gorilla with a capital G - but that comes at the cost of the suffering of a handful of individual animals that have to be incarcerated and displayed for the good of their brethren out there in the wild?

Binoy Kampmark: Yes, they're the privileged few. They suffer for the sake of their species, if you like. Yes, there is a problem in that. And this is the problem we can't really get beyond, if we accept the legitimacy of zoos - and I certainly do find I'm comfortable with the idea of zoos, but at the same time I realise that inevitably there is an element of suffering that's very hard to remove completely.

Andrew Linzey: If you want to preserve a species, then you must preserve it in its natural habitat. Because unless you can preserve its natural habitat, then there's no point in keeping it at all, because there'll be nothing to put it back into, do you see? Because unless you can preserve the natural habitat, the species doesn't have a future anyway.

David Rutledge: Animal rights theologian, Andrew Linzey.

Andrew Linzey: Besides, you have to ask: what are children looking at when they see a lion, for example, behind a cage, behind bars? What they're looking at is - well, they may be looking at the lion, but aren't they also looking at an exercise in human dominance and control? Is that really what we want young people, young children to learn?

David Rutledge: I sometimes wonder if the growth of concern about animals is congruent with a sense of disgust or anger at the terrible mess we humans have made of things - and the idea that animals, like children, are somehow less complicated, less compromised, and therefore easier to empathise with than humans. Is there any of that in your own mind, or your own heart?

Andrew Linzey: Well, it's in my mind, because I think it's also in the bible. If you look at Job, for example, human beings are compared most unfavourably with the Behemoth and the Leviathan - which are, I understand from those people who know about these things, the equivalent of the modern-day alligator and whale. So there you have it, you see, and despite what Steve Irwin has done, that in holy scripture we're compared unfavourably with alligators.

David Rutledge: What point's being made there in the Book of Job?

Andrew Linzey: Well, I think the point is being made, amongst other things, that we alone amongst all the creatures of the earth, are capable of debasing ourselves. We are the most lovely, and the most un-lovely species of all. That our kind of violence is out of all proportion to any other kind of violence. I mean, Auschwitz, Hiroshima, Dresden, Nagasaki, these are human inventions. Other animals do terrible things to other animals, but the systematic, ruthless killing that one has seen, for example, in the 20th century, is something out of kilter even with the worst thing you can find in nature - and I don't romanticise nature.

20. Perfect Pole-cam

2006-10-10T09:41:00.003+10:00

It goes with out saying that a film about oysters would not be complete without underwater footage. But underwater footage is not so easy to get. Even the thought of getting it is not particularly appealing given that Bluff water is FREEEEZZZZZING!

That's why they invented the pole-cam. For the filmilliterate, it is a camera on a long pole, and much better idea than swimming, if you ask me.

It is the best of both worlds. I get to stand in the warm sun and film under water all at the same time. Perfect!

Practicing my pole-caming technique at Portobello Marine Lab

19. Not In The Brief

2006-10-08T14:22:00.002+10:00

I have been itching to write this piece for weeks now, but have been fighting an internal battle between my conscience and my fear of the repercussions. I attribute my sudden courage to write it to my lecturer and the Annie Dillard article he gave us to read.

Dillard’s advice was, “Write as if you were dying. At the same time, assume you write for an audience consisting of solely terminal patients. That is, after all, the case….what could you say to a dying person that would not enrage by its triviality”.

So, determined not to be anything less than utterly vital I am compelled to write.

I write this not to be deliberately controversial or to raise hackles unnecessarily, but because it is my passion. You do not leave your friends, family and comfortable home just because you think that natural history documentary tickles your fancy. You do it because it stirs you.

My dilemma this that I have to choose between refraining from criticism of the organisation supporting my course and speaking out on behalf of the planet. I have chosen the greater cause.

We were given a lecture by an award winning natural history documentary film-maker, from Natural History New Zealand (NHNZ), who gave us great insight into the making of their latest award winning documentary.

Insights like the “truck loads” of materials that were used for reconstructing entire aquatic scenes in order to capture, literally, 7 minutes of never-before-seen footage of a never-before-seen animal, were astounding. When you see the footage you know the loads of trucks were worth it.

The documentary was about life at the equator. The footage breath-taking. The story incredible. Plants and animals that survive freezing nights and scorching days high up in the Andes. Each with a unique set of remarkable adaptations to survive life at the extreme. They only manage to survive however, because the temperature never drops below or sores above certain limits and thus, the difference between survival and death is a fine, very fine, line.

As incredible as this story of survival was, the burning question on my mind was how will global warming affect the fine balance of this Andean ecosystem? The answer was devastating to say the least: the glaciers are already disappearing and will probably be gone in 20 years.

For me, the hopelessness of this thought is overwhelming. Having just seen some of the most spectacular footage of animals never filmed before, the idea of it all disappearing was difficult to contemplate. The next question on my lips (and for at least one other in the audience) was'do you say as much in the film'?

The answer to this question, I must confess, was almost as unbelievable as the idea of the disappearance of an entire ecosystem in the space 20 years. ‘The effect of global warming was out side the brief of this film’.

Out side the brief? I was dumb struck. Exxon Mobil also has a brief that does not include environmental issues. An omission which has, and rightly so, meant they have come under serious pressure to include it. Does an industry whose livelihood is based on the continuation of the planet’s natural history also have a brief which excludes environmental issues? I am a little confused.

On second thoughts it starts to make sense. News Corp are the proud owners of NHNZ. I know little of the media in New Zealand, but Australia’s I know well. In Australia News Corp (or Murdoch, shall we say, since he is the proprietor and wields the power), has a 60 to 70 per cent market share in the print media. He is openly and proudly pro war in Iraq and thus, all his newspapers tow this editorial line.

It is no secret that Murdoch flouts the ‘editorial independence’ of his newspapers. It is unlikely he has any reservation about interfering with the independence of any other of his media outlets. What’s more, News Corp's own ‘Standards of Business Conduct’ and their ‘Statement of Corporate Governance’ make no mention of any environmental corporate responsibility so why would any of the subsidiary companies include environmental issues or responsibility in their brief.

But never mind the industry and its owners. When, as individual documentary makers, who are in a highly privileged position to get out our message to huge audiences, when do we decided to take responsibility for our own tiny, yet critical, contribution to the survival of the planet’s natural history?

In the case of this particular documentary (which I gather is up for an award and rightly so), I am left wondering what its purpose was if the environmental issues facing the ecosystem weren’t included?

Was it merely to get rare footage of a rare beast? To win prizes for such footage? Or should the purpose of Natural History documentary be to enable those less fortunate to get a glimpse of the breath-taking beauty of the natural world, in ways that educate, stimulate and inspire them to want to preserve it for generations to come?

If that is not our ultimate goal I can only hope that it will become so.

What’s more, as I understand it, documentary is all about ‘telling it like it is’. Surely the omission of such critical information is, in some way, a distortion of the facts?

As one of the next generation of natural history documenters I have to point out that if the current generation continues to take the stance “it wasn’t in their brief,” my generation will not have a brief.

If we, the natural history documenters, do not make it our mission, no matter the vested interests, ‘to put it in the brief’, then who on Earth will?

18. Team Oyster

2006-10-08T13:41:00.001+10:00

Kaite and I at chopper school. Here we come aerial footage!

Sadly my fossil whale doco has gone out of the window. After much wheeling and dealing I have paired up with Katie. We decided to go with an entirely new topic as both our original ideas had, shall we say, issues.

Sad as I am to put my whale baby to bed it seems that already we make a fab team. Our new idea was put to the test last week at the dreaded pitching session. More often than not these film pitching sessions end in tears, when we students get scorched by the hot breath of our lecturers as they proceed to tare our ideas to shreds. This time however, to my amazement, the comments were nothing but positive about Katie's and my film idea.

Hooray! Finally! Something is going right.

I may not be a deft hand with a camera, but at least I seem to be able to write a good story...one must be thankful for small mercies. I cannot of course take all the credit, but I can say that Team Oyster is on a roll!

The story? In a nutshell... An oyster fisherman, a dying oyster fishery, a tiny marine worm and a fight to save it all...Stay tuned!

17. All Work and Some Play

2006-10-08T07:52:00.001+10:00

A little ballroom dancing goes a long way to keeping me sane!

Dancing with my champion ballroom-dancing housemate

At the Arana College annual ball

16. Resting in Peace

2006-10-02T13:04:00.002+10:00

The death of Steve Irwin has caused a lot of discussion. Despite the timing being rather irksome it is a discussion that needs to be had. For no less a reason than the reality that sooner or later we are going to need a new Attenborough/Irwin type to fill the void. Apologies to Sir Attenborough who is still alive and kicking, but you get my drift.

Given that Irwin was indeed popular with many, the debate now is do we want the next ‘animal crusader’ to be an Irwin, an Attenborough, or should we take the good bits of both and discard the rest.

I, for one, strongly believe that while Irwin’s enthusiasm did seem to be infectious with the kiddies and a great draw card for his zoo, his approach to handling animals was utterly unacceptable and should never again be promoted.

Indeed, I would like to take a moment of silence to reflect on his death in light of his tragic animal-handling...

As a Zoologist, I would like to reflect on the fact that string-rays, or for that matter the vast majority of animals, do NOT attack others, be they human or other wise, unless they believe themselves to be in grave danger. The reason being, from a biological point of view, that aggression is ‘energetically costly’. Aggression risks injury and injury means the animal is more vulnerable to predators, less likely to secure a mate and of course a fight can lead to death.

Thus, animals are forced to think seriously before getting entangled in a brawl. The easiest method of deciding whether or not to fight is, if one’s opponent is bigger, Run! But animals have evolved far more accurate methods than this of assessing their opponent’s fighting prowess. Adaptations such as long horns, colourful bodies or large barbs are very accurate indicators of an animal’s ability to win a contest. These ornaments are so accurate an indication of who will win the fight that most of the time they are used only as a signaling device, to deter competitors. It is only when opponents are so closely matched in the size of their ornaments that confrontations become aggressive.

The other use for ornaments is to deter predators. But once again, because ornamentation such as a wasp’s sting, or the sting-ray’s barb take lots of time and energy to grow in the first place, it is a rare creature who will risk losing them. Rather, the main purpose of large barbs, horns and antlers is to avoid an attack.

A good example is warning coloration. Species such as wasps with a powerful sting in their tail are often brightly coloured. Predators will, either instinctively, or as the result of experience avoid eating such an animal. This way the wasp keeps its sting, but is still able to ward off predators.

In the case of a sting-ray, not only does it risk injury or death should it engage in a fight, but if it is forced to make use of its poison barb, and survives to tell the tale, it is now minus its only defence mechanism and therefore, highly vulnerable. No sting-ray is particularly eager to loose it very ‘expensive’ and very useful barb so they chose to use it wisely.

Not for one moment am I suggesting that Irwin intended to kill or for that matter even touch the sting-ray. I am suggesting however, that it is highly probable, given its reaction, that the sting-ray perceived otherwise. In the end, Irwin’s intentions are irrelevant. It was his actions that led the sting-ray to lash out in defence. I also suggest that this was not the first time an animal felt threatened by Irwin. As Germaine Greer puts it, “Every creature he brandished at the camera was in distress”. Greer is not alone in her thinking. (see ABC Radio National – click to listen "Aniamls" - Sunday 1st Oct)

What was offensive about Irwin was not his catch cry, “Crikey”, or the Aussie larakin persona it was his treatment of the very creatures he protested his love for. Irwin may have loved to wrestle crocodiles, but I have yet to be convinced that crocodiles love being wrestled. Irwin may have loved to swim with the rays, but clearly the sting-ray did not share his views. In fact, it disliked the event so entirely that it decided to put an end to the encounter and sadly Steve as well.

I am also yet to be convinced that Irwin’s work lead to his fans having a real understanding of conservation. The proof is in the killing. In the days after Irwin's death there was a spate of what seemed to be revenge attacks on sting rays. About 10 were found dead with their tails cut off. One can only conclude that Irwin failed dismally to convey to his fans the importance of respect for animals or make them understand that when you invade an animal’s space they are highly likely to attack, not out of malice, but because the poor creature feels compelled to defend its self.

The spate of ray killings gives the strong impression that the word he did manage to spread was that of interference and intolerance of animals and their needs. His behaviour seemed to encourage the attitude that barging into another creature’s home to do as you please, be that shrieking ‘Crikey’ to the four winds or wrestling a croc, was ok.

Sadly, what Irwin failed to realize was that his behaviour set an example. An example of disrespect for our fellow creatures. An example that humans can use animals for their own pleasure. What he also failed to convey was where you draw the line. Where exactly the wrestle ends, and the hacking off of tails begins? The latter is arguably just a more extreme version of the former.

15. My Father's Father

2006-09-29T14:23:00.002+10:00

My Grandfather, Peter Chiswell

I was once told that humans are most lucid at 3am. Something to do with the brain being relaxed. True or not I don't know, but I certainly seem to get my best ideas in the wee hours of the morning.

For some time now, in fact for years, I have found myself wide awake at exactly 3am pondering all manner of things. At first it exasperated me, that I should wake at such an ungodly hour. Of late however, I have come to the conclusion that it is a blessing. For it is at 3am that whole articles materialise in my head, the plot of my movie takes shape and my life’s course is as clear and as simply as day.

There seems no cure for this seemingly endless flow of lucid thoughts other than to take pen and paper and note them down. So I have taken to doing just that and have even mastered the art of writing in the dark.

My most recent 3am epiphany so inspired me that it deserves a mention.

I have a book to write.

My father's father was South Africa's most famous Radio personality during the 1950-60's. South Africa did not get Television till the mid 70's so Radio was it and my grandfather, Peter Chiswell, was a house hold name. Yet, as far as I know, no book has been written about his life and his work.

He was an incredible man. He wrote, produced, directed, presented and acted in many a radio show and even composed and played the music for programs, many of which were enourmously popular.

I find it funny to think that without even intending to I am following in his footsteps, and trying my hand at journalism. Radio would certainly be my preferred medium.

What's more, if there is one thing we have had drummed into us in this course it is the importance of a good story. My grandfather’s life was certainly very interesting.

An RAF pilot during the Second World War, he was stationed in what was then Rhodesia, now Zimbabwe, were he trained other pilots. It was while on leave in Cape Town, South Africa, that he met my grandmother. Her father was a captain in the Navy and was obliged to entertain the visiting RAF pilots. I can only guess what my grandmother thought of their dinner guest: my father was born in Rhodesia.

When my Grandparents, with my 18 month old father, returned to South Africa my grandfather, with no formal training save for being a talented musician, well versed in English literature and possessing a sharp wit, on the recommendation of his father-in-law, decided to try his hand in radio. A natural entertainer he become immensely popular, or some may say notorious.

His humorous remarks about the ridiculous claims made by radio advertisers, such as ‘Italian Boy’ shampoo, at first made him very unpopular with the advertisers until the radio station noticed a marked increase in the listnership. People loved his jokes and the more he mocked the more they listened. My father tells of the box loads of ‘Italian Boy’ shampoo that would arrive on their door step, incentive for my grandfather to continue the ‘bad’ publicity.

My grandmother was also highly talented in her own right. A skilled milliner, she made hats for the then president's wife.

The setting for all this was also a fascinating time in history. It was the height of Apartheid South Africa when many whites had servants, enourmous houses, vast lawns, tennis courts, swimming pools and lots of time on their hands for drunken parties of which, my father tells me, they had many.

Those are just the parts of my grandfather’s life that I know of.

If I have learnt anything from this doco course it is that as creative non-fiction writers we must find the stories that are our own, stories we are passionate about and stories that bear our own unique trade mark.

What luck! I do believe I have found just such a story. The only thing troubling me is the fact that now I have made it public I have no choice, but to write it...

14. To Cool For School

2006-09-28T15:55:00.000+10:00

The Natural History Film-making gang in class.

13. A Vulgar Culture

2006-09-28T14:57:00.002+10:00

To quote my Czech friend, I am disgusted by Dunedin's student culture.

Otago students are notorious for their drinking and rowdy behaviour. Drunken youthful exuberance I can handle, but in Dunedin drinking is no longer just about getting a little happy with your mates, it is completely out of control. I believe the burning of old couches in the street is the latest edition to Otago student rituals.

It would appear that Dunedin's residents took living in the extreme sports capital of the world to heart and have taken disgusting, drunken loutish behaviour to the extreme.

The front lawns of many a student's flat are littered with beer bottles, broken letter boxes, smashed glass, wet cardboard boxes, underpants and the remains of what was once the front fence.

On reaching the main Uni campus you find, without fail, that the night before some pissed posse has rolled a shopping trolley into the river that runs through the grounds and for most of the journey I am preoccupied with avoiding shards of Vodka bottles.

All this seemed unpleasant enough, but nothing prepared me for the criminal damage. Within weeks of arriving my Czech friend's back windscreen, of his newly purchased car, was smashed in. Another friend's rear spoiler was ripped from its moorings and on my morning walk to Uni I am guaranteed to see not one, but rows of cars all with the side mirrors broken off.

This was just one of four cars that had the mirrors broken

Last week I had the pleasure of bumping into my Jordanian friend, he on his way to the mosque and I heading home. In the cool evening air we stopped to chat. Our conversation however, was interrupted by hoots and jeers coming from across the street where a group of drunken youths were hurling bottles into the road. My friend and I decided to part ways fearing for our safety as bottles exploded round us.

My bad impression of Dunedin's residents was topped off last night when I woke to the dulcet tones of my neighbour, a young man of about 20, calling to a passer by to come and "suck on this one". I guess his eloquent poetry was at least a change from the usual horde of sloshed sheilas staggering up the street shrieking and gurgling the words to Bon Jovi.

My neighbour's house

At first I wondered if my distaste for such behaviour was just a sign of my becoming a granny before my time, but I find that I am by no means the odd one out.

Most of my friends in Dunedin are other international students, including a Czech or three, two Jordanians, a Swede, Chilean, German, POM and Caribbean Islander. All of us, although totally independently of each other, have come to the conclusion that Dunedin's student "culture" is nothing of the sort, but rather it is a vulgar social phenomenon devoid of any of the subtleties, pleasures and interesting oddities associated with other cultures around the world.

12. Museless

2006-09-26T07:16:00.002+10:00

I was sent this picture from home.

I now know why I am feeling so homesick and maybe a little uninspired. What could be better for a natural history film-making student than two Muses such as these?!

11. Failed Snail

2006-09-14T15:52:00.002+10:00

To add to my penguin filming experience I have filmed a rather handsome, mottled brown and white rabbit and would you believe a snail.

The rabbit, after being coaxed from its cage was given the name Peter and then placed upon a table around which we crowded, cameras in hand. The rabbit was surprisingly clam about being encircled by a bunch of bumbling amateurs wielding cameras (the bumbling was probably just me), that is until someone switched on a spotlight, startling it and causing it to topple backward off the table...I’m hoping the RSPCA does not get wind of this.

Thankfully there was no real damaged done and after dusting it off, the rabbit was once again placed on the table this time right in the middle where it sat out the rest of the session seemly unperturbed by the throng of lights, tripods and wobbly camera work. Once again I think I only speak for myself there.

The snail filming exercise, on the other hand, reminded me distinctly of filming at Victory Beach.

The task was to bring to class items from which we could fashion a miniature set for a snail. Once again we were promised wildlife, only this time, in the form of our very own snail.

People brought whole sections of lawn, water sprayers to keep the snails moist under hot lights, Katie even went so far as to construct her snail a miniature house and swimming pool and Mark went for the parking lot look with a 'used' condom and chewing gum wrappers. I decided on a cottage garden setting and brought small flower pots, autumn leaves and had to scrounge around for aged logs and moss covered rocks.

After some serious landscaping on our part, Paul brought out his little bag of snails all hidden in their brown shells. On closer inspection we found that far from hiding, the shells were somewhat lacking. Lacking the snail. In its place we were given Plastercine for fashioning our very own.

The class’s disappointment at receiving a shell minus the snail was surprising short lived. Soon we were engrossed in rolling and shaping and moulding snails of all varieties and races. I thought it rather unfortunately that the choice of Plastercine colours were less than snail like, and so decided that with some extra mixing and mashing I might be able to produce a more life like snail colour. I was even hoping for the added touch of speckles. Sadly, after everyone else had finished creating and I was still trying to get just the right hue I was forced to give up. I did however, manage to give my snail all the correct anatomical appendages. Eyes and feelers!

Jinty was kind enough to take pics of our creations so if you click on the link you can view my rather failed attempt to create, from brightly coloured plastacine, a correctly coloured snail.

10. Janjucetus hunderi

2006-09-02T09:57:00.001+10:00

The time has come to reveal my film idea! Mainly because I have to prove my worth and pitch it to the rest of the class.

My pitch is, after some serious blood, sweat and tears over the semester break, complete. However, somehow it just isn't quite the audiovisual bonanza that I envisioned. But given my disastrous computer skills and the serious lack of audio, never mind visuals, available to me it is as audiovisual as it is going to get.

The story revolves around the discovery of a new, never before seen by science, ancient fossil whale called Janjucetus hunderi that lived about 25 million years a ago in the seas off the coast of Australia. The discovery has had a major impact on the understanding of the evolution of baleen whales, which in itself is a fascinating story.

In fact, the fossil is so significant that when it was revealed to the public, in August, it sparked a world wide media frenzy. Al Jezeera even picked it up!

Artist's impression of Janjucetus hunderi

My connection to the story and thus the reason I got the idea for a doco is that it just so happens that the palaeontologist, Erich Fitzgerald, who discovered Janjucetus was a class mate of mine in Zoology.

I also have a bit of a claim to fame in the Janjucetus affair in that, if I am not wrong, I was the first member of the public to set eyes upon this bizarre toothed mysticete back in 2005 when Erich gave me a sneak preview.

Anyway, given that at last count there was 21,000 references to Janjucetus on Google I will refrain from entering into a long explanation of this ancient whale's story, but I recommend a read.

So there you have it! I’m still a little sketchy on the specifics of the storyline: I could focus on Erich's personal journey of discovery; or take a broader look at the evolution of baleen whales; or maybe a bit of both, but that will come in time. For now I have to wow or rather woo someone into joining me in making the damn thing!

9. The Zen

2006-08-29T18:51:00.003+10:00

I have found the Zen!

Having never been a natural photographer and in class struggling to grasp the ins and outs of apertures, exposures and frame rates, I discovered over the weekend, while shooting in Wanaka, that there is something very satisfying about filming.

First there is the musing about what will be in the shot. The foreground, the back ground, the contrasting colours and shapes, the framing and the action. Then there is the setting up of the camera on its tripod, with knobs that won't tighten and others that won't loosen. The adjusting of legs to make them level or the scratching at the ground to make it level. Next comes the twisting of lenses, the selecting of filters and the pulling of the focus until, having pushed every button, turned every dial and twisted everything that looks twistable there was nothing else left for me to do except look down the viewfinder, press the record button and stand back to marvel over the greatness of my cinematography. Which of course consisted of dappled sunlight on swaying grass, the sun rising over white peaked mountains and a slow pan across a shimmering lake.

It was only after the shoot when the sun had set, the day was at its end and the batteries were all dead that I discovered that everyone in the shot was an unhealthy yellow colour. I had forgotten to do the all important 'white balance'.

But the fun and excellent film-making did not stop there!

The following morning, at 6am, I set out to film the sunrise over the lake and snow capped mountains that surround the town of Wanaka. In the pitch black, not able to see anything through my camera lens, I pointed it at what I hoped would be a good shot. The darkness however, was the least of my problems. The lake and mountains were in the west! I just had to pray that the snowy mountains would catch the sunlight as it rose behind me.

Luckily, the snow and clouds did pick up the light superbly and all was going well until I realised that my battery was almost dead however, being the amateur that I am, I had forgotten to bring the spare one. In the middle of my sunrise I packed up my camera, raced back to my hostel, got the second battery, raced back to the lake, set up my shot again and just hoped for the best, considering the best of the sunrise had been and gone.

But not to worry! If I had missed the best of the sunrise, I had not missed the best moment of the day's filming.

I had set my camera up at the edge of the lake just in front of a walking track. Being early morning with few people about I figured I would spot anyone walking a mile away and be able to divert them. Maybe?

Out of nowhere a pesky kid runs past, right through my shot. Ah! How could I have missed him? On the bright side it was not all bad, I could always edit him out. Now however, I was determined that I must keep a keen eye out for any other strays.

I did manage to divert one tourist who, with much hand waving and gesticulating on my part, finally understood I wanted him to go round the back of the camera not in front.

I had been standing for 2 hours blocking out the wind that was threatening to blow my camera over and my knees where starting to wobble. I decided that since the wind had died down I would go and sit in the car from where I would still have a clear view of any walkers threatening to spoil my masterpiece. I should mention that the "car" was actually a huge 4x4 Toyota Hilux. Sitting perched high up in the driver's seat I sat back to wait out the rest of the sunrise.

I was sure it was only for a second that I lost concentration, but when I turned around to check for walkers there was a guy riding along the path heading straight for my camera. Without much thought other than I had to stop him and stop him fast, I leaped from the car seat. However, I must have forgotten just how big the car was and so instead of my feet reaching the ground I found myself in free fall as I tumbled out of the car door and thudded to the ground.

Dazed and clutching at my smarting elbow, I staggered to my feet only to see the cyclist riding off into the distance. My was sunset ruined.

I packed up my camera in disgust and wondered what the hell I was doing trying to become a film-maker!

The Zen? That came at the end of the day when, exhausted, I crawled into bed.

8. Second Time Lucky

2006-08-20T10:12:00.001+10:00

Our camera teacher Paul Donavan took us out into the wilds of New Zealand to film 'real' wildlife. Fur Seals and Penguins were promised.

After an hour's hike with heavy packs, tripods and gear for building hides we made it to Victory beach only to discover that there was no wildlife.

On our way back along the beach in search of penguins we encountered a lone seal. However, the fact that it was a Leopard Seal, which usually hang out in Antarctic waters and not under the hot sun on New Zealand beaches, was the first clue that all was not well. It paid us little attention as we crowed round to get some footage and when it did stir it barely had the energy to move more than a few meters. I, for one, felt that by filming we were stressing the poor creature and so decided to put my camera away and move off. First time filming and my first ethical dilemma!

That evening, after building a very unstable hide we sat, sardine fashion, in the sand dunes and waited with baited breath for Yellow-eyed Penguins to return to their burrows.

The effort was worth it, and at about 5pm sure enough some very cautious penguins emerged from the waves and ambled up the beach past our hide and into their burrows. The hide however, did not fool them a moment and although they steered well clear of us we did manage to get some shots.

I am now ofically a wildlife documentor!

I would like to thank Julia Kebling and Sarah Cowhey for the beautiful photographs!

7. The Plot Thickens

2006-08-19T17:53:00.002+10:00

I am well and truly in the think of it. In two weeks I have to pitch my film idea to my class in the hope that someone will love it so much that they will just be itching to join me in making it. My only other option is to give up my dreams of swimming with the whales and instead, team up with someone whose idea trumps mine...NEVER!

I am in panic mode. I am still trying to track down information, articles, ideas, conclusions and pictures. But more to the point I am still trying to schmooze with the right people in an attempt to convince someone to take me out to film whales. Admittedly my film idea is about fossil whales and I don't really need footage of live ones, but it just wouldn't feel complete with out the real thing.

Not only this, but my pitch, I have been informed, must use audiovisual aids where appropriate. I am still trying to work out when their use would not be appropriate, in the hope that I can somehow forgo them. I still can't work out how to upload a picture to this irritable blog never mind incorporate them into a fancy presentation. Gasp!

Added to the tangle in my web and the knot in my knickers is a rather interesting revelation about my tale of the ancient whales. My story starts in Australia with a young paleontologist and his newly found 25 million year old whale fossil, and takes me to New Zealand where there just happens to live the world's leading expert on whale evolution, Dr Ewan Fordyce.

I thought when I went to interview him the other day that it would simply be to check facts and maybe get some good quotes to use in the pitch. I could not have been more wrong. To my horror his version of events was in total contrast to the Australian scientist's version. They know each other well and they have agreed to disagree.

At first this threw me and I started to hyperventilate as I pictured my Natural History Documentary, my baby, crumbling to my feet or rather exploding in an almighty bang! It soon dawned on me however, that my plot had just thickened. Any good storyteller knows that conflict is by far the tastiest piece.

Now my story spans 25 million years, the Tasman Sea, at least two generations of scientist AND it has a hint of tension, a simmering debate or maybe it’s just a gentleman’s disagreement. Whatever it is, I like it!

Alas, my excitement at this new found twist was sadly marred by the realisation that my mid-semester break which was going to be a blissful week on the white hills of Wanaka will instead be a week of blood, sweat and tears as I try to conjure up a breath taking, mind blowing, awe inspiring audiovisual bonanza without any whale footage.

6. Deluded in Vegas

2006-08-19T16:04:00.002+10:00

Today we had a class with a prominent New Zealand film-maker who makes Natural History programs for the American market. I say American market and not international because, as he pointed out, there are two TV markets in the world. The Americans are one and then there is everyone else.

The difference between the two markets is that Americans, or at least some of the Executive Producers of the world's biggest wildlife TV companies, don't know what insects are. Call them "Bugs" however, and the animated movie springs to mind and they can now understand what sort of creatures you are talking about.

Whether or not they realise that you will be filming live bugs and not animated ones is anyone’s guess.

For Americans the naked bottoms of white men must be fuzzed, but film a black tribesman and he does not need to be afforded the same privacy, and rule three for all Natural History documentary makers wishing to enter the American market is never be so bold as to make the link between pigs and pork. As far as Americans are concerned (or at least in TV Exec's view), pigs are animals that are pink and go "Oink" and pork is what you buy at a supermarket. They don't think it wise to confuse anyone with the facts.

Lastly, one must make sure that the Natural History programs you make are not, as one American EP put it, "too intellectual". The fact that pork comes from pigs may be an example of this.

While I found these revelations bizarre, the question that I was asking was not whether or not such specifications are reasonable or right, but rather who are these faceless TV executives making decision about what Natural History the American public views and secondly on what, if anything, do they base such bizarre logic?

What's more, how on earth did we get to the point where someone who does not know what an insect is makes executive decisions about what Natural History programs go to air?

One can only imagine that they are the same TV producers who asked Sir David Attenborough if they could dub over his voice with an American one because, to their knowledge, the American public would not be able to understand one of the most eloquent English speakers on the planet!

It was rather fortunate that Attenborough had the piece of mind to decline the generous offer. Surprise! Surprise! The American public understood him perfectly well. In fact, his programs have been some of the most popular Natural History programs ever screened there.

But to answer the first question - who are these executives that decided what kind of Natural History goes to air - I guess I was not surprised to find out that most have a degree in business or marketing and not anything that might lend itself to an insightful understanding of what constitutes a good Natural History documentary, or for that matter, what an insect is.

I was however, greatly relieved to find that their decisions are actually based on something credible. Masses of market research! The examples of market research that our speaker gave were however, less than convincing.

'The People Monitor'test sounds quite legitimate, or would be, if it resembled anything even vaguely close to the choice of 'the people'.

One method of 'people monitoring' used by American TV companies to decide if the public will like a new show, is 'The Vegas' test. The concept is simple enough. Go to Las Vegas (I was already cringing by this stage), ask 30 people on the streets of Vegas if they would like to watch a new TV show and then ask them whether or not they give it the thumb ups.

Las Vegas, for those who have forgotten, is a wonderful place. A city built in the middle of the Nevada desert for the sole purpose of gambling, or getting married under the influence, or both. I believe Brittany took a fancy to one of the above.

One can only imagine that the type of person who frequents such a place must be somewhat delusional. Deluded that they have come to win their fortune, deluded that it's not the booze that makes him so attractive and deluded that taking a holiday in a totally artificial environment that is so far removed from reality is NOT disturbingly disturbing!

The most disturbing part is that the market research for Natural History documentary is conducted on people who are in a place that is totally divorced from reality never mind the natural world!

The results of this kind of 'people monitoring'? The sad state of TV we see today. In which the rest of us are subjected to watching the best of an appalling lot. Take your pick. A bunch of the world's most inarticulate teens on Big Brother, self absorbed men and desperate women on The Bachelor or someone dry retching because they are trying to eat some large hairy insect on Survivor. And all because the 'market research' is based on the views of what must be some of the world's most unimaginative people.

Surely, a better plan would be to take the 'people monitor' to the streets of Harvard or Cambridge, but really anywhere other than Vegas would do. Then the rest of us would not have to be exasperated by the stupid, the dumb and the puerile and instead the Vegas crowd would be forced to watch the worst of an excellent lot.

I have a sneaking suspicion that like all the Americans who could not only understand, but loved, Attenborough that the Las Vegas crowd would actually enjoy some quality programming too.

5. Conversion to Irwin

2006-08-09T18:07:00.001+10:00

I have at last happened upon an idea for my Natural History documentary that will not require a budget similar to that of the ‘Lord of the Rings’ trilogy. This is a great relief. I was getting worried.

At the moment, it involves some 25 million year old bones, a trip to the southern coastline of Australia (virgin has some great deals), computer animation of a toothed mysticete and some serious scripting to make it all work.

At the moment there seems little going for it because I only have little bits of the story, and like digging for fossils I will need to scratch around for more bits here and there before I can start to piece them all together, and make it into something that resembles a documentary. At least the seed of an idea is there and I am convinced that it will only get better from here…Surely!

I did also speak with none other than "the" Mike Rubbo and he seemed to think it might be a go’er. For those of you, who like me, are totally film UN-savvy and did not know who Mike Rubbo was until two days ago, he is the director of 'Waiting for Fidel' and many other excellent docos.

Speaking of big names, I recently became acquainted with none other than the guy who launched none other than Steve Irwin...Gasp! Well, that was my reaction.

I have always vowed to sock Mr. Irwin in the gob should I ever meet him, and that went for anyone even vaguely associated with him. Admittedly, I have not seen much of Mr. Irwin’s work due to my personal boycott, but of the little I have seen I felt that it did nothing to promote respect, understanding or reverence for animals and their environment. Rather, I felt his style of sticking his shnoz as close as possible without getting it bitten off encouraged interference and disregard for the personal space of wild animals.

I have to admit however, that I might have been converted…Well, just a little. Not converted so much that I have a new love for Mr. Irwin, that I doubt will ever happen, but I did realise that the bloke who launched him is doing much to further the plight of the world’s animals and doing it in a very innovative way.

Other programs of his, such as 'Up Close and Dangerous', greatly impressed me. Here was really interesting Natural History documentary. It was edgy and fast paced, and despite being far removed from anything his excellence Sir Attenborough might do, they still evoked respect and wonder for the natural world, and that I take my hat off to!

So while I would still like plonk one on Mr. Irwin's shnoz on behalf of all the poor defenseless creatures that have had to suffer the indignity of having his grinning mug dangerously close to their own, I will refrain from including all those involved in his rise to stardom. More to the point though is that my mind has been opened to a whole new Natural History possibility. There is much to be said for that.

4. Mad or Nomad

2006-08-03T15:05:00.002+10:00

Despite the fact that I am only four weeks in to this course, I am painfully aware that at the end is the inevitable getting of a job, having a career, finding an occupation. Just in its self this is scary, but yesterday what came to mind was just how monotonous occupations are.

When humans were nomadic everything changed. For the hunter-gatherer no two days were the same: the horizon always changing as they traveled in search of food; new bird song to listen to as they moved from forest to savannah and the new seasons bringing new fruits.

In the past we consoled our selves with the knowledge that life for the hunter-gatherer was harsh. There was famine, drought and lions to contend with and all without the help of technology. But the evidence is now indisputable that in fact, life for the hunter-gatherer was easy, food abundant and time endless. It is thought that they only spent three to four hours a day hunting and gathering and the rest was just that. Rest.

For the hunter-gatherer Life was abundant. Before white settlers wiped them out, 70-60 bison roamed the North American prairies and ever since then we have been slowly, but surely wiping out hundreds of species every year. The mind boggles at just how much Life there must have been if we can manage to loose species at a rate of knots and there still be millions left.

But there was more than just food. The earth provided everything they needed. Millions of plants and animals from which to craft fur coats, massive forests proving all the materials needed to build shelter, rives and lakes and billabongs filled to over flowing with fresh water, and all under a dazzling sun. Yet, nomadic life has all but disappeared and in its place we have created the desk job, which has more to do with death than it does life.

So how the hell did we go from endless abundance, invigorating change and easy living to this? When and why did humans decided that they needed something other than Life to occupy their time? Did they decided at all, or was it a mistake, an experiment gone horribly wrong?

Some hunter-gathers are known to have farmed. In PNG they cleared small patches in the dense forest to plant crops which on their travels they would pass, gorge themselves on and then continue their journey. But why did such joyful and rewarding experiments get turned in to grueling work? More to the point, what could possibly make the Soul want to stifle the instinct to traverse the land, taste the new seasons fruit and rest during the heat of the day, and opt for the sedentary life style?

It is not that we have lost these urges. Holidays never come fast and often enough, we all could do with a little R and R and the travel bug, once caught, is a chronic condition.

So, if the instinct to live the nomadic life never left us, why have we lost sight of this way of life? Could it have been that somehow, at sometime in our history we forgot to heed our instinct? We forgot to listen when our instinct told us that nomadic life was better for the soul than tilling the fields all day in the hot sun, or that tilling fields was at least better for the soul than toiling at a desk?

I certainly can not think what else it could have been. There was no reason, nothing forcing such a change. It is only now that fresh water supplies are running low, that our land is so parched and silted that crops won’t grow, and that we are watching the earth's ecosystems collapse before our eyes. It is only now that Life is no longer abundant.

Why or what made humans stop listening to their instinct I will never know, but whatever it was I want no part of it. My nomadic instinct is still strong and while I know that I must soon find an occupation, I also know that I will never make a career out of it unless is fulfills this nomadic instinct.

Maybe it is this that has brought me here. Not so much to Dunedin, godforbid, but to learn the craft of Natural History Film-making. A craft in which, if I am lucky, I will visit new horizons, hear new bird songs and taste the new seasons fruit.

I wish me luck!

3. Dunedin to Bollywood

2006-07-27T12:06:00.003+10:00

I have certainly lost all inhibitions about my ability to write. Wrong! I still have those, but now I no longer care. If it's bad then so be it. It can only get better...Surely?

More to the point is that I simply could not have survived the last few weeks of this course had I not tossed my pride out the window. We are churning out stories (sorry, creative non-fiction), and showing our work to all who can bare to listen, at such a rate that it won’t be long before there simply won’t be any words left in my head to put on the page.

I have written a personal essay about the library, a short story about my dog that died, which made me cry. I can only marvel at how a tiny creature could make such a gaping whole in my life. I have written about killer kangaroos, a suggestion for a doco on the demise of vultures and had to tell my class a story about myself in which I ranted on about the debacle that was my first week in Dunedin. And then there is this pestilent blog which, to my dismay, is growing on me.

However, the most important words I penned this week were those to do with my own documentary.

I have a list of ideas which, thankfully, is getting longer even if it is depressingly slow going. What is more depressing however, was my realisation that I might as well toss them all out the window along with my pride, which is now lying in a muddy pond of Dunedin rain, because they are just not doable unless I acquire a sugar daddy who is willing to foot the extensive bill.

My first documentary idea would involve filming in all the worlds’ nations that have been unfortunate enough to have recently been at war. That would include most of the Middle East, half of Africa, PNG, Timor...the list goes on.

Another idea would involve not only going to Australia to film, but before I could even start the filming I would need to complete a PhD on the 1500 or so species of ant that have not, as yet, been discovered let alone named. They are out there I assure you!

And a third idea would involve either mastering the art of claymation within the month, or employing the services of “what’s his name” who won the Oscar for Harvey Crumpet. The fact that I don’t even know the guys name might be a hint as to how successful that idea will be.

Alas, I have hit a wall. I just can not seem to think of any ideas that my non-existent budget will stretch to. I have thus come to the conclusion that I was right all long. I don't belong here, I belong in Bollywood. There, and only there, do they have the budget and patience to produce my five hour Natural History epic.

2. A Pinch and a...

2006-07-21T08:11:00.002+10:00

The sole purpose for me coming all the way to the tiny town of Dunedin was to make a Natural History Documentary. I had visions of lugging a camera up mountain sides and down steep canyons to capture award winning footage that would be screened the world over. However, as I discovered the other day I will be spending, at least some of my time, building a blog to document my journey from documentary dreamer to doer.

Here begins my tale.

It was day one and our task was to reveal to the rest of the class just how bad our creative non-fiction writing skills were (writing being the key to all good docos), by going to the main library, observing the comings and goings and then writing 400 words on the whole experience.

I felt like I was being dragged kicking, screaming and biting my lecturers arm into the deep end. "I don't know anyone in the class yet! Can't we wait just a bit, get to know people, learn more about the art of creative writing before we actually have to do the unthinkable and open ourselves up to scrutiny"! My silent protests went, of course, unheeded and so I wrote. Nothing beats fear as a motivator!

Writing the story was a breeze compared to emailing the thing to the rest of the class. I broke out in a sweat just at the thought of it. Would mine be up to standard? Or would I have to finally admit that I was in the wrong place?

The following morning I waited to go into class, eyes cast down too terrified to look at anyone in case I caught them stifling a giggle. In fact, everyone was unusually quiet. Then from out of the huddle of miserable faces someone turned to me and said "I loved your story". What? Had I just heard correctly? Surely not? Is she pulling my leg? I am sure I detect a hint of sarcasm! Luckily from somewhere in the fog of confusion, exhilaration and utter disbelief I managed to produce a "thank you".

Later, one or two others also remarked that they thought mine was one of the best. "Ok guys now I'm just getting a big head"!

My lecturer's response was not so, well let’s say, positive. "It's clever," he said not sounding too convinced. "But a little cheaty". "CHEATY"! After feeling so relieved that my classmates had liked my work and having begun to feel just ever so slightly confident that I was not a total dunce and that maybe, just maybe, I was in the right place, his comment was like an ice cold knife in the ribs.

Normally, such a comment would have caused me to crumple under its weight and without psycho therapy I would never have managed to recover to my full size, all five foot of it, but this time something inside clicked.

Whether it was the praise of my classmates (I would just like to take this moment to thank them), or just me getting older I don't know, but instead I just casually raised an eyebrow and allowed a delicious thought to come to mind: in a perfect world, I would simply lean across the table and pinch him.

1. Blog Boffin

2006-07-18T13:06:00.003+10:00

I am now officially a Blogger! It's a status I would never have imagined gaining given that I have a serious aversion to anything with more than an ON and OFF button: I don't do mobiles, I don't drive...much, and only learnt this year what a Gig was, yet I have just taken, albeit one tiny step for most, but one giant leap for me, into the blogger sphere.

Not by choice, I assure you! The order to BLOG came from above (my lecturer), and the reason given was that this was an excellent opportunity to start practicing our writing - an essential skill for any budding Natural History Filmmaker. Like hell!

I came here to film cute Kiwis, regal Whales and slothful Sea lions. Yet I find I am to spend the year keeping a blog on the progress of making my Natural History documentary.

My dreams of coming to the land of the long white cloud to become the next David Attenborough are totally shattered.

The second thought that came to my mind when I was told to create a blog divulging to the entire Blogger sphere, not only what my movie is going to be about, but just how fabulously, or not, it is progressing was "Not a chance pal"! Reveal my idea, which I might add is a bonza, to all and sundry? You have got to be kidding!

So Bloggonians, (what do you call people who read Blogs?) I invite you to follow the trials and tribulations of a wannabe doco maker, but you will just have to wait for the premiere, at Cannes, to find out what exactly it is about.