We met Toby Hyde and Paul Fennelly from Factory Films for a chat and they shook our hands and welcomed us to the Factory Films family! Everyone we’ve talked to about them say that “They’re lovely” and “such sound people to work with” and generally pleasant things like that. We’ve only been with them for a couple weeks but completely agree! They are sound and lovely and we’re looking forward to working with them this year.

Its the year of the OX! So Arran and I are preparing to vigorously plow the field of prosperity until the great super harvest party. Then we trade it all in for some magical beans. Because that’s what the OX do. Trust me. We met an OX in 2007. Her name is Keira Knightley. She, along Rupert Friend (year of the rooster) and Tom Mison (year of the dog) were all playing make believe in a short film we shot in 2008.

It happened like this here:

We’re in Budapest and Rupert says to us “Wanna direct a short film that Tom and I wrote?” Then he starts to tell us this crazy little fairy tale and the next thing you know we’re meeting with art directors and costume people and special effects people and pointing and explaining and directing a fantasticalismly imagined cautionary tale.

(Arran, Corran, Kiera -photo by Kate Friend)

The reason short films take so long is that everyone works on them for free so it’s more of a side project for people. What’s good is that everyone is doing it for the love of the work.

In February we will be finishing the visual effects for the film at MPC and ILP. Meanwhile Tim Phillips will be continuing to compose the most magical soundtrack ever scored for a short film and Caleb Knightley will be creating a cerebral sound scape. Adding the 4th dimension to the silent characters in “The Continuing and Lamentable Saga Of The SUICIDE BROTHERS“. Coming soon(ish).

The short is featured in the February issue of Lula Magazine if you feel like having a peek.

Now…You, poets of the 21st century take note; Today is the 250th anniversary of the great Robert Burns! We expect the greatest drunken poetry to spew forth on this bra bricht moonlicht nicht nicht.

But mark the Rustic, haggis-fed,
The trembling earth resounds his tread,
Clap in his walie nieve a blade,
He’ll make it whissle;
An legs an arms, an heads will sned,
Like taps o thrissle.
—from Robert Burns Address To A Haggis