35mm blowups, Winstone, and a dodgy projector


John flies to Vienna to start work on the blow up. The machine at Listo will take 10 days to create the print. Meanwhile the accountant has not been able to complete the DCMS form (hardly surprising) and so the sale and leaseback deal begins to slip away. Just as the film is reaching it's most expensive stage.

Returning to his short film experiences, the producer, Mike Leigh style, dusts off a couple of credit cards. He also sits and stares in to space a lot. Fluidity Films might be about to create a 35mm print, but for what? There's still no sign of a distribution deal.

John gets the life-changing call while still in Vienna. It's Mike Ewen at Winstone Film Distributors. They love the film and want to help distribute the film to cinemas in the UK. For a moment the world stops. Everything that John and Guy have worked towards over the past five years is crystallised in that moment of the offer of 'theatrical release'.

Sarah Ewen (Mike's daughter and partner) is effusive about the film. She loves it and thinks it could do fantastically in the cinema. No promises (obviously), but they have a very good feeling about the film. It's the news the producer has been waiting for (for waiting read praying. A lot).

Guy and John meet Winstone in mid January. The news that the sale and leaseback deal has fallen through doesn't seem to matter so much. The DCMS now has issues with the level of deferred payment in the film. It is worried the deferments will not be paid. With all the wrangling, the deadline for the deal is missed.

Fluidity is told that another round of deals is coming. It is also told that because of major deferment abuses by other companies, the inland revenue has come down hard on excessive deferments. Fluidity's deferments are not in any way excessive (in fact they are totally honest, more than can be said for some). But now sales estimates are required before the DCMS will grant the certificate.

The meeting with Winstone goes very well. They are keen and want to start straight away showing the film to exhibitors. They feel that the film should play in the smaller independents and at the Regional Film Theatres (RFTs). They believe that students are more likely to go to those than the multiplexes.

A potential start date of mid/late April is agreed as a possibility. Sarah wants to wait until September, when the students start back. The producer can't wait that long and nor can the bank.

An exhibitor screening is set up for 29 January. For the first time it will be on 35mm. John returns to Vienna for three days to grade the print. The producer joins him to sign it off. Listo takes them to the biggest cinema either has ever seen. The screen is over 20m wide.

The film looks terrible, it's way too dark and the sound is awful. John is heartbroken and the producer is deeply shocked. A lunch in the cinema complex is a strained affair. Now what?

John and Geoff assure the producer that the print looks lnothing like it seemed on screen. They return to the viewing room at Listo where it looks brilliant. They realise that the big screen must have had a fault with its projector.

The mood lightens considerably, hands are shaken, a money transfer is enacted and suddenly Guy and John walk out of Listo's offices with the first 35mm print of their first feature film. If it wasn't so heavy they would have both leapt for joy all the way back to the hotel.

The next hurdle is to get the film through customs. Many are impounded for fear that they are porn. It doesn't look good, especially returning from Austria, which, being near the porn hot spot of Germany, is bound to be a target.

John volunteers and sails through customs. Nothing can stop them now.

At the end of January it's back to Planet Hollywood for the showing of the film to exhibitors. Representatives from Odeon, the BFI and Warner, among others turn up. As do the boys and various admirers.

The print looks incredible and the sound is truly awesome in the screening room. John and the producer slip away half way through to make a trip to M&S to buy the lunch. This is the glamorous world of film-making. They just finish chopping the sandwiches in time for the end of the film.

The roller coaster ride that is Living in Hope continues. The reaction is very mixed. Some of the exhibitors love it and can see the market for it immediately. Others are not so sure. The lack of a star name comes back to haunt. The BFI is very impressed and we thought they would be the most critical. Warners has sent three people. One of them rushes up to the producer to tell him how brilliant he thinks it is. So good that he wants to ring all his old university friends to have a reunion. Sadly his boss doesn't like it and this is a body blow.

The Odeon is also unsure and the theatrical aspirations seem to be slipping ever so slowly away. Mike Vickers of Reeltime is another who loves it.

John and Guy leave Planet unsure of what to feel. Everyone who has seen the film (of any age) has loved it, except for the people who really matter. New Realm, who handle TV and airline sales think they can sell it. Two of the PR people invited also think it's a goer and want to work for on the account.

The producer drops the film off at the British Board of Film Classification in Soho Square. A 15 certificate would be the ideal. He joins the lads for a drink, not sure if it's a celebration or a wake.

Winstone say not to worry as Tony Jones at City Screen in Cambridge will watch the film over the weekend. If he likes it the film will get the crucial West End release needed. And he's in the heart of student land. So there's hope.