Remember the Saturday morning queue, standing outside the local flea pit waiting for it to open? I used to get there early so I could get a seat somewhere about 8 rows back and in the middle of the stalls. It was magic, and I’d watch just about anything – twice if I could get away with it. The Pathe news was a bit of a struggle but even that, and the adverts, had their moments. I can’t say I was drawn to the acting side, but the mystery in the making of films really thrilled me. Just wonderful.
The projectionist running films from his high box looked like a good place to ask questions, so one Saturday I knocked very gently on the box door and found a kind looking man.
‘What can I do for you young lass?’ He was very patient for someone who had just shown films to a rowdy crowd of kids.
‘I’m Amy and I’d like to know more about films and how they get made. I’m really interested in how it all works’. This seemed a bit cheeky, but he seemed happy with the company. When I told her, Mum was a bit shocked at how bold I was getting.
Bob the projectionist let me watch films from his projection box amidst the smell of celluloid and the rattle of shallow metal tins and the dust motes trapped in beams of bright light.
Looking back, the film projector looked a lot like the wheels at nearby pit heads. You can still see them in the landscape. It reminds me of Dad, who died in a pit accident when I was 5. Everything moves on – film making , coal mining, people.
‘You’ll be leaving school soon, what are you thinking of doing? You’ve a lot of skills to offer.’ Bob was egging me on.
‘I’d love to do something with film but I’ve got no qualifications’. It seemed an impossible dream.
‘I’d get in touch with the BBC. They’re always looking for people to do the donkey work. You could learn on the job’.
Great advice. The BBC did take me on as a trainee assistant editor, Bob’s reference must have helped a lot. At first I did the bidding of editors. There was a growing respect for my skills and sometimes editors asked for me by name. It was unusual to find women in editorial teams and I never got further than assistant editor. But more and more I was given control over editorial decisions.
Digital methods have revolutionised editing of course. Those recent innovations in drone wildlife photography are quite stunning. But too late for me.
As I’ve grown older I have left work and moved back home look after mum . She’s loved my success but worries that I haven’t made time for family and children. Many old friends have moved away too.
‘You’ll be lonely when I’m gone’. She’s always saying
I suppose that’s the cutting room floor for you – you live with your editorial decisions.
