Our own Peter Gray of 'Psicosis' fame, sent me a quick email earlier this week informing me that his own Internet site (Filming in Herts), not our clubs (must get some good key words to remedy that), had been hit by a request from an independent film making company seeking llocations near or around the M25. Three independent young film makers, who had met at film school some ten years earlier, had acquired a script and some, although they said less than enough financial backing, to make their own first film. As an aside - isn't that always the cry? With Peter still adjusting to and learning about his new found home area here, being a Londoner born, bred, having lived, and been brung up there, he asked if I would be interested in showing these location hunters some local churches, side streets, and woods suitable for filming.

Two or three emails and a couple telephone calls explaining her lapse of international driving licence and a personal assistant down with a cold, I, for the sake of efficiency, and of course a desire in saving the film from ultimate disaster - working title 'Young Gods The Movie' I offered to meet her at the local station and become a chauffeur. That's how Barbara Cassara, a delightful young born and bred Brazilian lady, and I met outside Hemel Hempstead train station on a warm Thursday afternoon in late June. I sped off with my newly found companion towards the heady heights of the old High Street, St Marys and the ageing but well preserved covered market square which was observed with a nice but not quite right attitude. Once seated and strapped up again I headed uphill towards Potten End, introduced her to the church, its magnificent green, pond and the local shop. With still no real satisfaction or pleasure in that being shown her, the shrugged shoulders and that downward lip movement conveyed all too clearly I wasn't quite satisfying her immediate wants or needs.

At about this desperate point in time Sarratt rushed into my thoughts along with Aldbury, Park Street, Leverstock Green, one of the Chenies and the grand old woods of Ashridge which has every thickness of wood from see through to dense, followed very closely by the original hamlet of Chesham in the neighbouring county, behind the main street facade near the park, wood the works. This would surely crack it I thought. The inter county dashing proved fruitless for Barbara who still had the hunched shoulders of dissatisfaction and one of those downward turned smiles that informs us men we haven't quite lived up to our expectation.

Being well trained and a practised male I threw my body into a mirrored sympathetic stance and allowed the corners of my mouth to hurriedly race southward. Within micro seconds I heard the comforting "Aahhhhh! poor Byron, don't worry", upon which I allowed a very weak smile to appear from an already and carefully lowered non-threatening head position.

As I hung there like a wet bedraggled floor cloth, she continued with an explanation as to her dissatisfaction starting with "Everthing is about the movie not me after disscussion with the director I know pretty much what he is after. And stick to that with a ruthless passion because believe it or not unlike television that is exactly what the audience of a movie demands, realism, the attractive, original and nothing that is only ever near enough or faked. Within the familiarity of television that's in your face a constant 24 hour availability much can be got away with, in film, there is never that opportunity or ease of choice, get it right or die there…..right on the screen"

With that professional passion lesson locked away in the box of great thought, I joined the northward heading home traffic from Chesham back to Hemel Hempstead listening to Barbara as she continued to explain that most film locations require some 25 places to be seen per scene of which fifteen will never be acceptable, five will be absolutely perfect but you won't ever be able to get permission to film there. Of the remaining five all will be as close as you can get but three of them will never be able to work or open on the days you want to shoot, leaving two for choice where you get all the help you need for the perfect shoot.

Now not feeling quite so much despair about my poor or only choice of locations Barbara informed me when we arrived at the station that in Brazil when people depart its customary to kiss one another on the cheek; with that in mind we bid each other farewell and headed home, our separate ways.

P.S. At my age though, I'm finding it so much harder bending down like that to kiss any ones cheek without getting dizzy!

Byron Welch