Screenplays are my thing – writing and editing them. I like sitting in front of a laptop, playing with words and giving life to various worlds and people who exist solely in my mind. Then I decided to do something different.
Last year I wrote a short film called Goodbye. In January I became a director and made it.
Goodbye screened at a couple of film festivals – Scotland’s Deep Fried Festival and the Yellow Fever Independent Film Festival in Belfast, Northern Ireland – and received warm praise. In the following months I’ve been writing more and training myself in directing. Until last week, when I read about Done in Sixty Seconds.
Done in Sixty Seconds is a short film competition with a deceptively simple premise: remake a hit Hollywood film in under a minute. I didn’t pay it much thought. Until I left work on a rainy winter night in London.
Soho and Piccadilly Circus’ streets are surreal places in darkness. The neon-lit roads packed with every imaginable type of people.
“Blade Runner should’ve been set in London. Londoners practically live in the movie,” I muttered to myself; not for the first time.
Then I stopped and looked around. I was standing in the middle of Blade Runner – my favourite movie. And one of the greatest ever made. A true hit.
Deckard could easily have killed Zora in one of the Trocadero’s cheap tourist trap shops, after chasing her from one of Soho’s cabaret bars. And Leon could have attacked him in that alley. Right there.
I smiled to myself.
“I am standing in the middle of Blade Runner.”
Next: Turning Blade Runner into a film shorter than its trailer.