The first screening of student documentaries made in partnership with the Lincoln City Council took place on the 17th of January, 2024 in the Lincoln Arts Centre.
It was the first sign of success for a new filmmaking module called “Community Film”. The module is being led by Phillip Warnell, a lecturer at the University of Lincoln.
Phillip said on a LinkedIn post: “I’m extremely grateful to have colleagues such as Ben Anderson [from the Lincoln Arts Centre] and Frances Plant [from the Lincoln County Council] with the vision to be able to build community relations and documentary studies within the city of Lincoln.”
He said: “There’s genuine value in each of these projects for those involved, but they’re also evidence of the good work being done around the city.”
The module allows students to select a community project to document, which they eventually turn into a documentary.
Staff in the council coordinate the first line of contact between students and community projects. Students can pick from a long list of council-funded initiatives to film as part of their documentary project.
Paul Carrick, the neighbourhood manager for the City of Lincoln Council, said: “To see them [the documentaries] on the big screen is truly unbelievable.
Regarding the community projects, Rejwan Gareb, a first-year film production student at the university, said: “[The screening was] was really cute. I didn’t realise there were all these little things to do in Lincoln.”
From litter-picking to football clubs and charities, there were many different subjects covered by the screening.
Rachel Scarrott, a filmmaking and documentary lecturer at the university said: “The more you connect with communities, the more you find the unusual things that are happening.”
“This is the time Line, when can I direct your call?”
I wrote the script for Time Line under creative boundaries. It was going to have a short running time, a small cast, and only a few locations. The theme was “time” and it was something I wanted to laugh at.
I never expected to write another script in 2024. I thought one was enough. I intended to take a break and focus on my journalism studies. Until one of the filmmaking lecturers asked me the question:
“Are you sure? It could be fun.”
Well, the simplicity was nice while it lasted.
I jest. The quiet was very boring and I was happy to be persuaded to work on another film again. I wrote the first messy draft in an hour or two and christened it “Time Line”.
“Time Line” had a deadline and that was December. I was going abroad shortly after that, and most students (and crew) would be leaving for the Christmas holidays after the second weekend into December. That was three months away: a little less than my first short film’s deadline.
But I had something that past me did not have before:
The headache-inducing, tear-jerking, stress-soaked experience of making a short film for the first time.
I was seasoned (lightly salted, more like). But I had some experience under my belt thanks to my previous film, and I intended to use it wisely.
Step one: find money and a crew
Regarding money, I had none. This contrasted with my previous film, which was luckily grant-funded.
Crew were much easier to come by. I could reach out to people I met through Petalled Apologies. The legendary cinematographer Oliver Townsend was involved, but we still didn’t have a full crew.
Step one was not fully achievable on my own, so I needed to enact step two.
Step two: find someone who can find money and a crew
The role of a producer is not something to take lightly. In a nutshell, they produce a film. But that means a lot more than one word. They produce money, crew, cast, locations, schedules, and signatures for paperwork. That’s a lot to produce if you are just one person.
So I would recommend getting more than one producer.
In the end, there were probably three of us.
But every one of us had our roles and responsibilities, and I can not thank the other producers enough. M Carter organised the paperwork side of things and enlisted some of the crew. Meanwhile, Maddie Oastler helped to organise the bake sale and helped M. She also stepped in as the assistant director on the day of shooting.
Together, we raised around £200.
Step three: locations and cast
We needed two locations and two actors.
Sounds straightforward, right?
I thought so too.
For the office, I adventured into the city to try to find places willing to have us film there. We found gold with one location, but they could not let us film on a weekend.
Eventually, I asked the university if we could film on the premises. They said yes, but we still needed a student’s room for “Kate’s” scenes.
I took to social media and asked for anyone willing to allow us to film in their accommodation. A student got back to me and gave us permission to film in her room.
M Carter organised the schedule, which meant we had a time and place to film.
Admittedly, we waited a little late before finding a cast. That wasn’t anyone’s fault. We used the platform mandy.com to find applicants but ran into an issue with the account and so had no cast a week before shooting.
I managed to persuade a friend and colleague to take on the role as Time Line Operator.
Alex Lewczuk harnessing his inner “Time Line Operator”
…and I was about to make my debut as an actress.
Step four: go with your gut
Confession time: unless you class primary school plays such as A Midsummer Night’s Dream and my Munchkin performance from the Wizard of Oz as “acting”, I had never acted before.
For a while after considering myself as “Kate”, I sat in a state of disbelief. I alternated between knowing I was capable of portraying her and doubting that fact.
There were a few last-minute alternatives, but nothing gave me peace. It was partly the last-minuteness of it, and partly the fact that I knew I could do it. I had to listen to my gut.
As an autistic woman, I have learned to mask efficiently. Nobody can really generalise something like autism, but I think a lot of autistic people in social environments and workplaces have to adapt to become acutely aware of their face, body language and tone.
In essence, I had not acted before. However, I know what it means to measure body language. This would feel a bit like that, but taken to an extreme.
Step five: doubt your gut (optional)
I think most people taking on large projects at some point ask themselves: “What on Earth am I doing?”
Several answers can flood in all at once:
“Doing something great.”
“Doing something crazy.”
“Making a fool of yourself.”
There was a brief time when I was surrounded by people who would show no hesitation in telling me that. “Stupid, irrational, silly and weird” are childish words, but they can linger in one’s mind if you let them.
Thankfully, I have good people surrounding me who are really encouraging. This is an important element of taking on a big project: a great support system.
You can only go so far as one person.
Step six: fear and embarrassment are hurdles you have to jump.
I have never been drunk a day in my life.
I have only observed drunkenness from a distance thinking: “Thank goodness I never need to know what that feels like!”
But Kate, my character, does. She gets really tipsy after a night out. I wrote it as such and now I had to act it.
If I let myself think about all the ways I could embarrass myself, I would never have done it. If I let myself feel any fear, then it would have shown. I was the director as well as lead actress. Being a leader, any fear from my end might have impacted the crew as well.
So, I had to jump it. Give up my right to feel afraid. Let myself feel only a little, so I can ride the wave of anxiety as opposed to being drowned by it. After all, fear mixed with excitement is a great alternative to caffeine.
With embarrassment, I have found that it is something to be embraced. It’s bound to be a part of life. If I avoided embarrassment while acting, I figured I would only embarrass myself more.
So I dove straight into it. Slurred speech, messy hair, fake vomit and all.
True, I made some mistakes at first. As the writer of the script, I had no excuse to forget my lines!
However, I managed to strike a balance between my pre-prepared director’s notes, experimenting on the spot and self-critiquing. In the end, it actually ended up being quite fun!
In fact, I would happily act again.
Step seven: celebrate the victories
This step is an important one. Anyone taking on a big project is likely a busy person overall, so taking the time to breathe is just as important as finding the time to be productive.
After filming Time Line, everyone had a Christmas off before reconvening back for the post-production stage. That included myself, which was perfect, as it gave me the time to get prepared to study abroad.
Now I am writing from Brisbane, Australia. Being involved in post-production from halfway around the planet is a funny thing. Thankfully, I managed to sit with the editor, Finlay Dodd, before leaving. However, there is still plenty to do before Time Line can make its film festival debut.
To start at the beginning would take too long, but I would say it all began with an insomniac 7-year-old, lying awake in bed, creating imaginary sequels and spin-offs in her head.
Thankfully, my appreciation for storytelling has since branched into different mediums of writing, from scripts to stories to journalism. It was the journalism course that led me to the University of Lincoln. It seemed the pragmatic choice, but has opened many exciting doors.
The phrase “your degree is what you make it” rings particularly true in media.
Many think that in order to get from A to B, you need to follow a particular path. I would say that unless you’re looking to become a doctor or lawyer your degree doesn’t have to define your career. In the creative fields, you have more flexibility to create your own opportunities.
Rachel Scarrott’s filmmaking group was one of those opportunities.
Starting university, I made a promise to take any filmmaking and screenwriting opportunity that came my way.
I recall the moment I pitched my short story as a script idea. Back then, my voice shook whenever I felt nervous. It felt like a stab in the dark. I didn’t know what I was doing, I just knew what I wanted to do.
“Go for it,” she said, “and direct it, too.”
Filming took place over three days. Credit: Jemma Gray
So, with money from the University of Lincoln’s Student Initiative Fund, that’s exactly what I did.
Still, moving from pitch to production was a mission. For a start, I did not know students in the film department. Nor did I know much about directing, nor filmmaking for that matter.
I just knew how to write a script. Mostly.
So, I asked around. One contact led to the next and soon enough, we had a crew. That included James Learoyd, who, along with “Directing for Dummies,” showed me the ropes.
Post-production was a lengthy experience. In addition to communicating between a team of students, the script was evolving, and time was being spent to align everything so when we were shooting, we hit our targets.
Storyboarding with James Learyod. Credit: Kara Joubert
Of course, that all took place alongside my studies. The balance was easy enough to maintain, although that meant sacrificing a lot of free time. Many people advocate for the “classic” university experience (although not as many as you may think) and that includes raves, parties, drinking and sex.
To put bluntly, I had other things to do – sorry, Bumble.
Lots was learnt in a short period of time. With extracurricular filmmaking alongside my journalism studies, it felt like educational whiplash. But working on the film never felt like a chore. It felt like a dream.
Shooting itself was a highlight. By the end of each long day, the team achieved something remarkable.
The actors were so focused on their performances. Working with them was a delight. They made my first directing experience a positive one, and I would happily do it again.
Today, Petalled Apologies is still in post-production. This has taken longer than expected, mostly due to everyone’s deadlines for assessments.
But I can’t wait to show you.
Overall, creating the short film Petalled Apologies has been a dance-inducing, caffeinated, stressful, fun experience. I have no alternative but to thank everyone for allowing me to have that.
The crew “slayed” during production, despite a tight schedule. Credit: Jemma Gray
So, if you’re asking yourself: “how do I make a movie?”
Opportunities do exist. Look around. And then ask around. You’d be surprised how quickly one contact can turn into three. Being friendly and confident helps. Initially, I was terrified talking to people. However, my voice grew stronger during work experience.
“Work” for a lot of young British people means manning the tills at Tesco or the local charity shop. I was no different. It might not be the most exciting experience, but value this as an opportunity to exercise your social skills.
Your social skills, or at least, enthusiasm, can get you far. Speaking to people in-person is always more successful than over email. Talk to your peers, lecturers, industry professionals, the friends of friends…
But be selective about who you hold onto. Only invest in people who are decent and good at what they do. And remember, you can conscript anyone into helping you create a film, but you can’t force enthusiasm.
Most crew members such as Ellie Nielson had several roles. Credit: Kara Joubert
Apathy is a project killer. So, when gathering a crew, I’d suggest either finding people who are excited about your film and indifferent about their job, or people who are indifferent about your film and excited about their job. Ideally, find individuals who are excited about both.
Sometimes you can’t choose who you work with, so diplomacy and a strong footing might be needed when collaborating with certain individuals.
Expect everything to take longer, but hold people accountable to their own deadlines – including yourself.
Deadlines are important things to consider when looking for funding. Sometimes you can gather a crew and then start crowdfunding. However, you might be lucky enough to secure funding before having a crew. That also says to people that you’re serious about the matter, which encourages crew members to join.
Remember, most money is spent in production and post-production.
Pre-production (planning to film)
Production (filming)
Post-production (everything after)
Finding funding was easy for me, but only because I could speak with the filmmaking lecturers of the University of Lincoln. On top of that, we began a crowdfunder. But if you don’t have access to these sorts of contacts, you might need to be more creative with this.
Google helps. There are lots of grants and competitions around. You can also look for individuals and companies to sponsor your film, and offer executive producer roles in return.
Don’t be afraid to say you don’t know what you’re doing, but choose who you go to for advice. For me, that was James. Finding people who share your vision means that you can troubleshoot ideas with people who care.
Filming took place around Lincoln. Credit: Jemma Gray
However, learn as much as you can in your own strength, remembering to refill that strength as to avoid burnout.
And finally, keep going! Yes, there will be trials (plus at least one on-set disaster) but resilience will pay off.
Your determination is your weapon. So, say yes to as many opportunities as possible. The phrase “your degree is what you make it” is good and well, but I’d take it a step further: life is what you make it.
Kara Joubert: Writer, Journalist & Filmmaker 