What first inspired you to pursue filmmaking, and how did your interest in environmental issues become part of that journey?

My first inspiration to pursue filmmaking was when I edited a music video for a mate's band. It was the first time I’d done anything where time just seemed to cease to exist; I was so absorbed. I was hooked. Environmental issues came much later, I realised the film business is a highly wasteful one and I wanted to do something to change that.

Do your values around sustainability influence the stories you choose to tell?

Yes definitely. I’ve made a number of films now about cycling, which has tremendous potential for the environment and sustainability, but in the UK at least, is an underused and undervalued resource. I’m continually looking for environmental storylines and am now exploring how to bring them to life in drama as well as documentary.

Is there a particular moment or experience that made you realise the importance of integrating environmental messages into your work?

For one of my short films, I helped to set up a bike bus in Warwickshire. It was very rewarding knowing that the bus would carry on after the film was finished. It made me realise that there is so much more that could be done beyond the films and that, although all filmmakers want to have an impact, the film alone is not usually enough to change things.

Can you describe what a 'low-carbon' film production looks like in practice?

So for our film ‘Chasing the Sun’, we used bikes to transport the crew and also used them to film from. We interviewed people remotely over video calls and used both picture and audio in the film. When we did use private motor vehicles, we actively limited the number we used and we looked for sustainable solutions for accommodation and food. BAFTA’s Albert used the film as a case study of independent production and how producers outside of the broadcasters go about introducing low-carbon techniques

What are some of the biggest challenges you've faced in reducing the carbon footprint of your productions?

The nature of film production means there are often last-minute changes and demands. The solution to those is often the most ‘fuel hungry’ and expensive. Calling a cab, for example, to make sure someone is in the right place at the right time because a shoot depends on it. We try to avoid this sort of thing, but it happens.

How do you balance artistic vision with sustainability goals? Have you ever had to compromise creatively to stay low-carbon?

Not yet, but I could see this happening. I have experienced the reverse effect, where interviewing people remotely for a documentary was a lot more successful than I was expecting. That was very liberating. The fact that audiences have come to accept the aesthetic of the video call is also a bonus in relation to this.

Which of your film work projects do you feel had the strongest environmental message, and how was it received by audiences?

I would say ‘Chasing the Sun’. It's been very well received.

Have you seen a shift in audience demand or appreciation for environmentally conscious storytelling?

I think so, yes. Given the scale and the urgency, it's been slower than expected, but that’s true of the climate crisis in general. I can see a growth in this area and even being asked these questions for this blog is a sign of the uptick in interest.

What advice would you give to emerging filmmakers who want to tell stories about the environment or create sustainably?

Do it, it's important! And maybe there’s more you can do than just make the film.

What are your hopes for the future of sustainable filmmaking?

That just like every other area of life, there is a transformation in this business to help protect the future of the planet and all its inhabitants.

Looking back at Bouncer more than 20 years later, what do you remember most vividly about the shoot — any specific moments that really stayed with you?

I remember our one and only big light going down. Trudy Coleman, our First Assistant Director, came to the rescue, phoning around to get a replacement, but it was hairy and we lost a lot of time, which meant I had to really simplify the ‘big stand off’ scene outside the club

Brown Paper Bag was such a deeply personal story for Geoff. How did you navigate that emotional terrain, especially knowing the story was inspired by such real life tragedy?

Geoff didn’t talk about it a lot at the time, which I guess kept things simple on one level. I’d like to think he speaks through the film. I knew that it was autobiographical, but I also knew that Geoff had removed it from his own life in the characters he chose. Again, that made it quite straightforward, I think. 

What was it like to reunite with the same creative team - Geoff Thompson and Natasha Carlish - for each of these three films across two decades? How has that collaboration evolved over time?

Natasha moved on from filmmaking and now works at the Arvon Foundation to help writers develop their work. Geoff and I came back together to make Bardo, which was a real treat. The film contains a quote from Hamlet. In one of our first meetings, I said, "Oh I should mention I live in Stratford now". Geoff turned around and said, "That’s funny, I’m moving there next week". Stratford's that kind of place! 

With Bardo, you're introducing a new chapter to this trilogy. In what ways does this latest film build on or depart from the themes of Bouncer and Brown Paper Bag?

Bardo is very much a part of the trilogy as they are all autobiographical and drawn from Geoff’s life. It does differ in one sense, which is that although they are all based around events from Geoff’s younger life, this one was made at a greater ‘distance’ and so I think that does shape it and make it different, through that greater perspective. 

As a director, how do you approach short films differently compared to feature length projects? What unique storytelling opportunities — or challenges — do you find in the short format?

I think that recently, the short film format has gotten shorter! This is down to two things. Firstly, the amount of short films being made now is much greater, and secondly, because of the internet and social media, people are used to watching very short content and that has an influence. So the longer, perhaps more subtle short is less seen now and the challenge is to make your film shorter. But then you can always make a film shorter. 

How did the BAFTA win for Brown Paper Bag impact your career at the time — did it open doors, or perhaps even bring unexpected pressures?

If I could have a series of sliders for my life and adjust what happened when, I would rather have taken the slow route and be winning a BAFTA now!

How do you keep your creative drive alive over the years, especially within the often unpredictable landscape of independent British cinema?

I’m often inspired by partnerships, either new ones or reuniting with people I’ve worked with in the past, like Geoff. They excite and re-enthuse me. Either that or just coming up with a great new idea or challenge. 

How do you hope modern audiences, especially younger filmmakers, will respond to Bouncer and Brown Paper Bag today? Are there themes you think feel more urgent or relevant now than they did in the early 2000s?

I think that’s going to be really interesting, seeing what younger audiences and filmmakers react to and how they react. Certainly, mental health is something discussed more today and also abuse within relationships. I think if Brown Paper Bag were made now, it might well be the same film, but it would be framed or explained differently. 

What do you think makes Midlands storytelling unique, and how has the region shaped your voice as a filmmaker?

Working in the Midlands is hard, there’s no doubt, and there is a huge prejudice from London in particular. But it does give a certain freedom. I’ve had the freedom to work across documentary and drama, which I may not have had in London.