Meeting after meeting, draft revision after draft revision, budget discussion after budget discussion.
In between a mountain of other work, we've had to fit numerous dances, shimmies and shuffles as we teeter on the verge of getting a new flick off the ground. If all goes well, we'll be filming a feature drama on location in Canberra early next year. I've written on it in these pages before and, I imagine, if all goes well, I'll be writing on it a whole hell of a lot more as we descend into the seven circles of pre-production hell.
So, I am in hiding. Deep in a bunker in my folks house in the outer suburbs. Surrounded by sheaves of paper and the occasional glimmer of insight.
I've got a handful of books and films with me for company that have nothing to do with my film and offer no threat of diluting the difficult script decisions I need to make by offering comparison or consolation:
Books:
John Berger's 'The Sense of Sight'
Mario Vargas Llosa's 'Feast of The Goat'
and a sentimental favourite, Garcia Marquez' crystalline 'No One Writes to the Colonel'
Films:
Alamar by Pedro Gonzalez Rubio
Le Petit Voleur by Eric Zoncka (a joyless, sublime favourite from way back)
The Headless Woman by Lucrecia Martel
Children Underground by Edet Belzberg
Madeinusa by Claudia Llosa
and
a regular touchstone for me... Nenette et Boni by Claire Denis
I also have my nephew for occasional company.
He seems to know what's going on.
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