WINTERBOTTOM OF THE BARREL

Fantastic news and I don't think about the BBC's latest blah about investing mega millions in British film. Disagree all you want, but if you're a Scottish filmmaker I have two words for you.

Michael Winterbottom.

Crap as I am at arithmetic - apart from tallying up tips - it took less than five minutes on the BBC Films site to arrive at a very sorry total. Out of the 73 films they claim are theirs, guess how many have been even remotely Scottish? 5. You heard me - 5.

Mrs Brown (shot on the Isle of Man)
Regeneration (written by a distillery owner)
Ratcatcher (lucky Lynne)
Morvern Callar (not so lucky Lynne - where are you?)
Sweet Sixteen (Loach leaching Scottish Screen for the nth time)

That's your lot. No way am I counting Born Romantic (Scottish TV writer, David Kane and some expat cast - hello Craig Ferguson - it's as deeply stodgy and English as spotted dick)

In fact, the BBC has backed more films by Michael Winterbottom than it has an entire nation. Let's not bother ourselves that Northern Ireland fares better than Scotland, as does the US, no doubt because BBC Films, like our government, loves to stand shoulder-to-knee with the Hollywood majors. If you've ever met David Thompson in the flesh, you'll know what I mean.

Compare Michael's score -

Jude
In this World
Wonderland
The Claim
Code 46
A Cock and Bull Story

Never mind what I mean - it's what BBC Films means. Draw your own conclusions, but my guess is BBC Films is saying Scotland, you're a bunch of talentless losers. If track record is anything to go by, don't expect Trainspotting 2 or the Sins and Confessions of a Justified Sinner or the Killing of Joe Bananas anytime soon.

So if you're wondering where all this new found licence-payers cashola will end up (and let's not kid ourselves about that luvverly UK Film Council Lottery dosh that adds to the BBC's pile) - why not ask Michael Winterbottom's producer, Andrew Eaton? Busy guy. After all, doesn't he sit on the UKFC Board of Directors? Surprised he's got the time, being so popular with FilmFour as well.

Dontcha just love the internet?

Whenever I go to Alphabet (the best in town) to rent a DVD, I ask people, have you ever sat through, say, The Claim, and thought, great movie, I was deeply moved, public money well spent? All I get is a kind of double-glazed look and a two step back-off, like I'm an eejit. So I slouch back into the shelves and rent something decent, such as The Consequences of Love, a film this country could only ever dream of making. And I jump into my wee but sturdy Micra, in the lashing rain, thinking - no - hoping, that things can only get worse. That way I console myself because people can only ever rise up when times get this tough.

5 out of 73? Not far from 7:84 - and look where they are. That's us.

MAKING HAY

Nearly choked on my Coco Pops to read that the Scottish Executive has handed our friends at Scottish Screen an extra half million. Why the largesse all of a sudden we're not told, but personally I'm getting a bit cheesed off with Ken Hay claiming he's the champion of individual filmmaking talent, a barefaced lie when there's not a single initiative that supports individuals in the quango's remit. And I'm not talking about so-called training here - we all know how to sweep floors and make tea. I mean cash money towards getting an idea off it's knees.

Previously Scottish Screen provided a seed fund for writers - up to five grand - without having to entangle yourself with thieving producers and slave-wage companies. Then, like most things at West George Street, it was quietly strangled and buried without ceremony. Listening to Mr Hay's latest interview on allmediascotland.com, I'm misled into thinking that writers and directors are beating off job offers galore, when in fact Mr Hay has no clue as the hardship most of us suffer. Producers and directors remortgaging their houses to gap finance their flops, writers having to deliver endless free drafts in the hope of getting some spare change. Short filmmakers giving the goods away for a shot at glory on pish websites and dodgy TV ventures - how are Propeller's viewing figures these days, I wonder?

Scottish Screen, if it wants to redeem itself before the plug gets pulled, could do worse than follow the example of Northern Film and Media, who at least has a fund for developing individual talents. That Scottish Screen can't even get a website together makes me wonder what the half million will be squandered on - well, with Cannes on the horizon, I'm sure they'll put it to good use, such as a nice wee yacht, an upgrade at the Hilton and a few more office juniors needing to top up their tans. Me, I'm more of a St Tropez girl.

KEEP ON SUCKING

Why is so much about film got eff all to do with filmmaking?

With the climate for funding in the deep freeze, welcome to THE COURSE - the last refuge of the non/failed filmmaker. These parasites - adept at spamming - bombard us with more invitations than Chantelle's getting these days. Most of it's tosh but if you dress it up right - the words secret and insider are favourites - then anybody can cash in.

It's simple. You set up a course, say, 'The Insider's Guide to No/Lo Budget Filmmaking' or 'The Secrets of Successful Self-Distribution', invite along some complacent eejit who made a Lottery funded stiff in 1998 but who gives good anecdote, slap on a hefty fee and before you can say spam, you've tapped into a never ending line of hopeful wannabes ready to part with upwards of 700 quid in the delusion that they'll learn something.

Stand up - Screen International, (who don't even pay their speakers) Arista (who can't be arsed to tell you who's speaking) and the myriad other outfits, most of whom dip into public dosh as well as charge ludicrous fees. Maybe it's time I got in on the act. I'm sure if I set up say, Topless Tips on Bugger-all Budgets, I'd get a few takers, or rather, suckers.

HEAVEN KNOWS WE'RE MISERABLE

Scottish filmmaking doesn't get a whole lot of coverage. Maybe just as well. Every time a hack puts two fingers to the keys you can be sure the adjective miserable will turn up with a rent book in its pocket.

From Bill Douglas to Peter Mullan, Scottish films are universally derided as self-lacerating, skanky realism, set in a world where everyone talks in thick monosyllables and where everyone's an addict living in a council shithole. Ken Loach hit paydirt with this gag, in a set of films lovingly depicting such losers, films generously subsidised by Scottish Screen to the tune of two million quid so far, the logic, no doubt, being that nobody does miserable better than Loach.

In its way-past-it's-sell-by Fast Forward scheme, Scottish Screen deflected the Buckie, blaw and blade brigade by dictating a new set of rules. Scripts must be 'upbeat', they tell us. That public servants with no filmmaking experience should prescribe the content of our cultural output is an exercise in futility. The FF scheme, almost two years down the line with zero to show looks as if it's on permanent pause. Even worse, Ken Hay has more or less put the boot into film as an expression of our lives and values.

So do we get the culture we deserve because of our films? Let's face it, Scotland's never been known for great action movies, drawing room dramas or even comedy. The closest we get to genre is horror/thriller but like the rest of the nation, our budgets are so paltry even a Blair Witch is a stretch for most of us. Partly it's confidence and partly it's lack of ambition. If New Zealand can build a film industry from scratch, what's stopping us? We've got mountains, we've got the same weather and just as many sheep.

Too bad we don't have Peter Jackson, even if we can boast a lot of lookalikes - in his fat and hairy phase, that is. If that's talent (in the Weegie sense of the word) then no wonder I'm miserable. Baaad luck, girls.

PROPPING UP PROFITS

Business is business, right?

And it's a savvy business that can attract millions from the public sector while making absolutely nothing - and even better, pay people nothing for supplying the goods.

Propeller TV has now officially launched. Touted as a platform for new and emerging film and TV talent, it broadcasts on Sky Channel 289 (due to move later in the month). In an earlier blog, I told of my mate's experience when he was asked to submit work - the 49 quid fee charged, the signing away of rights. Judging by their 'revised' submissions process it seems that they've tidied up their act - now you can sign away your rights (and if you think a non-exclusive deal is worth having, think again) and give Propeller permission to edit your work in any old way - including dubbing your movie into any language. Either way, you won't see any money.

So for all of you budding filmmakers who've slaved in call centres and bars to scratch the cash to make your camcorder masterpiece and who think Propeller's the opportunity of a lifetime - their website breezily claims 'commissioning editors may be watching' - I have three words of advice...

YOU'VE BEEN FRAMED.

At least they pay £250 a pop - and it goes out network.

Shame on Yorkshire Forward, the Film Council, the Press Association, Skillset and all the other self-serving parties that fund and endorse this dodgy venture. If you really want a film business in this country, then try paying the people who make the films, not give Propeller licence to rob them in the guise of giving us a break. Some of us know the length, width and depth of the shaft...

IRN BUROO

Hi diddley-dee, an actor's life for me.

You have to feel sorry for our actor chums. They can't all be Tom Cruise. Me, I'd sooner drop my drawers for St Johnstone's reserves than face the indignities of an audition. For instance, a friend of mine - and a very good actor - recently went up for an ad for a well-known soft drinks company about to launch a Red Bull-a-like. My friend, out of luck lately - and dropped by his agent - really needed the work - or rather the fat buy-out on offer. The only downside was the part required him to do a passable imitation of a psychotic cuckoo.

Meanwhile, the director of said ad, himself a prominent features director and obviously skint as well, guides my mate through the audition.

Picture the scene.

Director: That was great. But really, we'd like it a bit more 'One Flew over the Cuckoo's Nest'?

Actor: Fine, sure, absolutely.
(thinks - I can't be fucked with this)
He performs - cranking it up to 12.

Director: Yeah, much better. But d'you think you could just take it down a bit?
(thinks - Why am I doing this piece of shit? At this rate I'm kissing goodbye to Oscar)

Actor: Take it down?

Director: Just a smidge. And a bit more - flaps arms - y'know - physical?

Actor: Gotcha. I'm in the zone.
(thinks - guy's an arsehole. But I really need the gig)

He performs - giving it a Begsbie riff this time.

Director: Fucking brilliant.

Actor: Good, yeah. Felt a lot better.

Of course, my mate gets the job. A week later he gets cast as the lead in a major Channel 4 drama. He's still got to shoot the commercial though. As a psychotic cuckoo. Bummerama.