In a troubled world, Abi Morgan hopes that we can all learn from the power of storytelling
The SAG actors were still on strike as the awards season kicked in, throwing up a dilemma for the promoters of TV and film and press junket organisers. Those behind the camera were invited in. Screenwriters, costume designers, composers, make-up artists and production designers were rolled out for the film Q&As, and it proved exhilarating. It is a reminder that it takes a village to raise a great movie.
If nothing else, the strike exposed the brilliance of those who work behind the camera. Inevitably, years of edits and grades mean I can spend more time marvelling at the visual effects of backgrounds than watching the actual film.
Listening to Martin Scorsese or Emerald Fennell and their respective creative teams unpick the DNA of every shot, costume, sound and casting choice is riveting. I miss the actors at the BFI London Film Festival, but the understudies may have stolen the show.
It was Prince Philip who said: “The man who invented the red carpet needs his head examined.” It is the most excruciating element of promoting a film and I avoid it like the plague.
But it’s cold and it’s October, and I am invited to be on the jury for best debut film at the 18th Rome Film Festival. The chance to spend 12 days feasting on movies and drinking in art and architecture while gorging on bowls of buttery pasta and gelato found on the corner of every cobbled street seems too irresistible to decline.
For once, I pack appropriately, safe in the knowledge that the cameras will be on the actors and directors, while I, as writers so often do, will shuffle quickly past into the safe retreat of a cinema to bathe myself in European film-making.
While the rest of the world burns, Rome fiddles. The Middle East is exploding, and Ukraine has been at war for more than 600 days.
I debated whether to go. In the end, cinema won. I put my trust in the power of its ability to provoke, nourish and offer sanctuary, and the hope that we learn through story. I’m in good company.
The opening ceremony: actors [those not in SAG], directors and producers gather from the US, Japan, Iran, France, UK, Sweden, Italy and beyond to screen their films and mingle with their fellow artists.
I drink warm prosecco and chat with Mahalia Belo, here with the beautiful The End We Start From starring Jodie Comer in another blistering performance.
I am reminded of the first premiere I attended of a film that I had written. There is a photograph floating about somewhere of me, standing, buckling under the weight of several coats and bags as the entire cast, director and producer face a wall of flashing cameras. I am looking on like a coat-check attendant wondering if they will remember to tip.
On decision day, we spar and debate. Films are loved and hated. Performances are revered. What feels new and exciting for someone is familiar and unsurprising for another. Not all the best films win.
There are gems that are overlooked, important voices that won’t be commended this year. But there is ambition, and talent and urgency to the storytelling. I am left both satiated and hungry for the big ideas. Highlights are Cottontail, by Patrick Dickinson, and Mehdi Fikri’s After the Fire. Check them out.
Back in London, I attend the RTS Patron Dinner to pick up a gong. I am given 90 seconds to offer top tips to a roomful of RTS bursary students. I stumble through and am humbled by Jesse Armstrong, who gives a shout out to his “brother and sister” in arms. Jack Thorne is also being awarded a Fellowship.
So proud to be in the company of these brilliant writers and a reminder of sending the lift back down.
Abi Morgan is a playwright and screenwriter.
