I went to the NFTS

…and of course it was the best experience of my life ever and YES I am in a perpetual state of mourning and YES I have eaten chocolate for my breakfast since I’ve left in a fatal way of trying to cope with my heartbroken-ness at being back in MUNDANE FILM MAKING-LESS AND CREATIVITY SURROUNDED-LESS LIFE.

Pictures speak a thousand words and if the words from these following pictures could be spoken they would spell out some form of “HAPPINESS/FULFILMENT/CREATIVITY/BEST-TIME-OF-SINEAD’S-LIFE/WHY DO I HAVE TO GO BACK HOME” etc. (all courtesy of NFTS/my friends’ iPhone cameras/my shaking camera holding):

 

Before Alex Garland’s masterclass we watched Ex Machina, which I honestly think changed my life a little bit? It was so interesting and well made. Alex’s masterclass was equally as good — I have a notebook full of illegible scribbles of what he said: one day I will decipher my messy frantic handwriting and type up what he wrote.

 

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This was us after we had finished shooting the short (but still yet to edit) with Destiny Ekaragha, who directed Gone Too Far! and some really cool short films. She was so lovely and gave really good advice, for example to always find work and basically take no shit. She also had really wise words about people of colour in the industry and the whole Oscar thing. I think I love her.

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My mum was so jealous of me for meeting Dexter Fletcher. Before this we had watched Eddie the Eagle (on its opening night!!!!!) and then DexFletch (I feel like I can call him this now) gave us a masterclass. Again, he had the same sentiment as Destiny and Alex in basically just not taking any crap from anyone, but always remembering your place too. He also had some fun things to say about what happened on set and his life as a child actor.

Some art at the Tate Modern that totally made sense to me I totally understand all of it completely 100% (I understood nothing) (also me and my friends thought we saw Johnny Depp???? If true Johnny Depp pls confirm)

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Picture of Paddington at BFI because I am 5 years old.

Our film poster with the other amazing film posters!!!!! Made by our producers Abbie and Maddie (<3)

 

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Our group, Team Eastwood 4 life. These were the best people to work with and I miss them all so much.

At the end of our screening/ceremony at the BFI on Southbank. It was honestly the most amazing/fun/creative/every positive adjective 2 weeks of my life and I would give anything to do it all over again. I miss everyone of the 66 people who did the course and everyone at the NFTS, it was like being in a really exclusive fun family who had dominos and giant breakfasts everyday.

I’m gunna go now before I start crying/turn into a cocoon of sadness.

Here is a link to an article that explains this whole beautiful time in a more coherent way (if you are thinking of applying and just happen to stumble upon this mess of a post then PLEASE DO you will have the best time ever, the only downside is the rest of your life will be lived in a great depression comparing everything to *looks back fondly* those two weeks but then you’ll remember you LIVED those two weeks and be full of joy).

Future Learn Script Week Two

My 30 Second script:

EXT. – DAYTIME – A deceased mansion occupies the entire frame, with the whole area covered in rubble and black charcoal. The entire situation seems bleak – there is leftover smoke from when the firefighter’s – who are currently preoccupied with a broken piece on their fire engine – took out the fire, and a heavy fog covers the area. The only thing that juxtaposes this picture of death is the standing room in the middle, which somehow miraculously survived the fire.

CUT TO: A woman in a long, black coat and black hat that covers her features walks over. The camera TRACKS her as she walks over to a pile of cast-aside rubble and stands on it, her gaze focusing on the room in the centre.

A CU of her face reveals her brown eyes and determined gaze. She checks her watch, clearly telling herself that for some reason, this is the right time to follow through with her goals. She continues to walk to the centre of the destruction, stops as she reaches the door to the lone room, and enters a microcosm of the universe that once existed before the fire.

INT. – Inside the room – it is clearly decorated in expensive wallpaper, with paintings from around the world hanging on the wall. A coffee table, two chairs, and a turntable – quietly playing Le Gazza Ladra Overture – stands in the centre of the room. On old man occupies one of the chairs, his focus clearly on the letters and novel he is holding.

The woman we have come to briefly form a sense of knowing with sits in the opposite seat, the old man not being disrupted by this. Instead, while still focusing on the objects in his hand, he says:

OLD MAN:
You know it was them, who did this.

WOMAN:
Yes. I know. I’ll be quicker next time, I’m sorry.

For the first time the old man looks up. He frowns.

OLD MAN:
It’s not your fault. You’ve been born into this world, there’s nothing you could do to escape being part of this…but there is something you can do to ensure you do not die because of this world, but I think you know that already. Am I correct?

WOMAN:
Yes.

OLD MAN:
I thought so.

He takes the letters and novel in his hand, puts them in a brown bag, carefully, and hands them to the woman.

OLD MAN [CONT.]:
I want you to have these. They are the only things that can save you. Decipher each and every letter your mother and father sent to each other; ensure you understand every page of the book – the notes are just as important as the text itself. I can no longer continue to go on anymore, but I know you can. When you leave this room you will not be in the same place you were when you entered it – physically and mentally – I need you to be prepared for this, do you understand?

The old man had adopted a worrying expression on his face, and was growing paler and paler by the second. The woman nodded, understood this was their last conversation, and, with no words being said – just a simple nod from one to the other, showing their mutual respect, they parted ways.

EXT. LONG SHOT of the door. It opens, and the woman’s face is shocked. The camera PANS OUT SLOWLY to reveal that she is in the middle of an ocean, with an ambitious jump between wear she stands at the edge of the door and a ship opposite. She makes the leap, the bag containing the documents intact.

END

My storyboards (my drawings are so bad and so is my handwriting please don’t judge me I am not gifted):

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All this happened, more or less

ACH! Awkward new beginnings. Where to start? Well, my name is Sinead, I am perpetually single and I’ve made this blog to talk about films, books and stuff in pop culture/the world.

I’m aware for the, like, first few years of this blog it’s going to be really unsuccessful, but that’s okay because it’s probably best people don’t read my angst and hormone fuelled opinions until I am out of that period and can join everyone in chuckling over my poor, poor adolescent self while swirling a glass of wine in my hand (I hate myself for writing this).

ANYWAY, I supposed I should say stuff I’m into? Books-wise I adore with all my heart and soul and entire existence Dostoevsky. If he was alive and 17-18 years old I’d TOTALLY date him if y’know what I’m saying. I also love Virginia Woolf (A Room of One’s Own = A MILLION HEART EYE EMOJIS) and RookieMag is my bible. With films I can never write down what I love because it either sounds ridiculously pretentious or way too shallow, so let’s go for a happy medium and say Wes Anderson. I do really really want to expand the directors I watch, though. I just feel really ignorant and closed off, yet I’m a film! student!

Basically, in short this blog (such a bad word) is going to be reviews/criticisms/discussions of stuff I wanna talk about.