So, after drinking far too much free Pepsi I am now high as a kite and wide awake. A perfect time to review the earlier events of this evening. Namely the first ever screening of my film. I'll try and talk you through the emotional rollercoaster. It was quite a ride.
All day I had been a simmering brew of nerves. However, as soon as I set foot inside the festival, I became a full-boiled nightmare. I haven't experienced sheer, gut-wrenching terror like that since the first time I ever did stand-up. I might even go so far as to say I was more nervous on this occasion. Anyway, the entire lobby was packed with people, there was a Red Carpet, people wanted pictures of us...the whole thing just sent my arsehole into oblivion. You see, deep down, I had always suspected that my dislike for publicity was a conceited attempt at staying grounded or something. I think I always suspected that when faced with the "red carpet" and the "Q&A" type-scenarios I would instantly become the ham I've always been, love every second, discard all my friends and family and become the next Jodie Marsh. Turns out I really am quite publicity-shy. After seeing pictures of the evening, the utter discomfort I was feeling inside apparently wasn't betrayed by my face. I was a wreck.
Then of course came the actual screening. We were in a two-hour slot, which is FAR too long to be showing short films. Especially when the first hour was utterly appalling, and I'm saying this as a fan of film. They were shocking. So much so, in fact, that they had somehow managed to kill the room. An experience I had previously suffered many times on the stand-up circuit.
Then, about an hour or so in, came mine.
I was already hopped-up on Pepsi and dread and when the first musical notes began I felt myself shrinking into my seat like a chocolate rabbit by the fire. Now, the first rule of reviving a dead room in stand-up is that it takes them a while to trust you - you have to win them back and let them know you're not like the others. The same applied here. However this meant, in this scenario, that for the start of the film, it became plainly apparent that no-one was laughing. No-one. Silencio. "That's it", I thought, "their will has been broken. They've become jaded by the pure tripe put before them for the past hour. They hate my film."
A few smatterings of laughter began. Then a nice moment where everyone jumped. That felt good. I started to move slightly more upright, we were winning them back. Then next thing you know, the whole place laughed loud. They had finally warmed to the story. I was now almost fully upright (not sexually, of course) when suddenly, out of nowhere, a moment of actual warmth, satisfaction and achievement hit me over the head like a ton of bricks. I could see my own stupid little (see: massive) face up there on the big screen, in a film that I'd also wrote & directed, and it was getting laughs. Not only that but the exact message I was trying to convey was getting across. People were on the character's side. For a brief moment in time, I was in Woody Allen territory. I could have creamed myself right there and then.
Obviously there's no way of writing about this sort of thing without disappearing completely up your own arse, which I by now probably have in your eyes, and it's certainly quite presumptuous to put myself in the same stratosphere as the Woodster, but the reason I do write this is because lately I have been really disillusioned with life in "the industry". Surrounded by bottom-feeding swine with not a moral or shred of dignity to their name. Everyone telling me it's not possible, or you've got to do it like this, or like that or you've got to "network" or whatever the fuck people who think they know better than you tell you. The point is, in all that I kind of lost why I got into this in the first place. It's easy to lose touch with that when you're caught up in the hustle of 'making it' but the reason I got into this game after 28 years of drifting was, of course, to get up on that big screen and entertain a crowd. Plain and simple. To be a small part of the magic of cinema, where people go to a darkened room, sit in front of a giant screen and "oooo" and "ahhh" at what's before them. To see that happening, with something I created, before my eyes was an absolute honor and a privilege. I felt like a little kid again.
I've gone up my arse again, I know.
Right, I'm getting all soppy now and it's late so I'll stop rabbiting. But overall, the screening was a big success. People had very kind words and I even managed to duck out of the old Q&A session afterwards. Marvelous.
To everyone that has shown, and continues to show, support. I honestly can't thank you enough.
Rock n' Roll.
JB.
