THE INTERACTIVE FILM MAGAZINE
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Drive, interrupted
Anwar Brett tells how he mixes pleasure with work on a nice day
out in the country with his family
out in the country with his family
The winding country lanes, sleepy villages, caravan-filled dual carriageways, truculent locals and overpriced ice cream are just some of the qualities of which England’s West Country is justly proud.
Yet even this green and pleasant part of the country can be enlivened further by a little game we play in my family, which is precipitated by a gaudy plastic day-glow arrow attached to a random road sign that bears the legend ‘Loc’ or, even better, ‘Unit Base’.
This, my children will wearily attest, prompts a hunt that can last many hours as we seek out whichever film or TV production has chosen to shoot on our doorstep.
Of course, the chances of finding it, wandering on set and being welcomed by cheery faces thrilled at the unannounced presence of the press (and his kids) are slim.
Then again stranger things have happened. Morris: A Life With Bells On is a tale set in the world of Morris dancing [and not as you might first think a misspelled sequel to Merchant-Ivory’s
homoerotic classic - Ed], and after I eventually inveigled my way onto their set I bumped into Ian Hart who, without missing a beat, greeted me by name as if we’d just been chatting last week, rather than a couple of years ago. I was made to feel welcome by all who were keen on any publicity they could get.
A whole other Sunday was wasted by me driving one or other of my kids around Sandbanks, following these
WELCOME: Anwar was greeted like an old friend when he stumbled across Morris: A Life With Bells On (left) shooting on location
damn signs until we reluctantly concluded that it was for a television production (pah) called U Be Dead, starring David Morrissey. The posh chap on the mobile that I took to be a producer, but was probably just a runner with a rich dad, couldn’t have been less helpful.
But even this cannot dim the siren call of those garish pink signs whenever I see them, pointing toward my next adventure.
* The Editor adds: Imagine the excitement when, last year, after following cryptic signs proclaiming ‘ABOA’, I eventually stumbled uninvited on Burt Reynolds and Charles Durning in the dining room of a large country house hotel overlooking the Thames dressed and lit to look like Bel Air, Calif.
They were conducting a long dialogue sequence over lunch entirely with the use of large ‘cue’, or ‘idiot’, cards for the Anglo-American comedy A Bunch of Amateurs.
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