Strippers vs. Werewolves



Oh come on! That was never a year!

Really? Did we have all the months? Does everyone remember having all the months? We must have skimped on one of the summer months. July? Anyone remember there being a July in 2013?

The rate time’s passing is getting ridiculous.

On the plus side, if it’s 2014 tomorrow, then it means we only have one more year until hoverboards and flying cars!

And yes, they are both on my future Christmas list.

So how was your 2013? Was it good? Did you enjoy it? All of it? Even the July which I’m sure the Government have covertly pinched?

Mine, since you’re doubtlessly asking, went something like this:


I started the year by getting a bit excited about January. No, I have no idea why either.

Then, inspired by this post by Debbie Moon, I got a bit ranty about jealousy.

And I finished off the month by rambling on a bit about HMV maybe shutting down.

Which it didn’t.

The essence of my argument was it would be a shame if HMV went bust because the immediate next wave of filmmakers would never know the elation of walking into a shop and buying a copy of your own DVD. HMV is one of the last outlets who stock pretty much any low budget films. If they went, the only shelf space would be in supermarkets and they are a bit funny about what films they’ll sell.

Now, okay, DVDs (or Blu-Rays, if you prefer) will ultimately go away and people will feel giddy and excited about something else.

But a year later, DVDs are still here (as is HMV) and they’re still exciting. I don’t know about you, but I have a hierarchy of film-love. Only my absolute favourites get bought on DVD. Films I really enjoy … I probably won’t bother to buy. I might watch it several times on TV or pay to stream something … but only my absolute bestest films get bought.

Unless I know the writer and want to annoy/promote them.

2012-07-13 14.54.12

Having a film produced is exciting. Attending the première is more exciting. Seeing it in released in the cinemas is even more exciting still. But holding a physical copy in your hand, one you can put on the shelf or lend to people or just look at and smile … that’s the best bit.

For me.

Because that, in a small way, puts the thing I wrote on a similar footing to all the other films I love. Even when I fucking hate the actual film itself.


I began February by busting the shit out of the motivation, willpower and confidence conspiracy myth bullshit.

Or possibly by just ranting aimlessly about those imaginary things. One of the two.


I finished off the month by loving Wreck-It Ralph. A lot.

At least I was right about that.

Was that it? Hmm … didn’t blog much in February, did I? Probably because I gave up chocolate, biscuits, sweets, crisps and cake in a vague effort to stop looking like a fucking hippo. That kind of thing is bound to make someone less bloggy.


I began March by explaining, politely, that they don’t fucking love your script in Cannes – no matter what they may have said. If they loved it, they would have bought it. Did they buy it?

No. Then they didn’t love it.


Yes, you can still pay me to re-write it.

I also blogged about exercise, P90X and biscuits – somehow finding it appropriate to insert myself into Death in Paradise wielding a spoon.

ginge-in-paradiseNo, I have no idea why either.

That was a weird thing to do. Although, the good news is I still have that spoon. In a lovely bit of serendipity, I stole it from the Jamaican hotel which initially inspired Death in Paradise. It’s now my emergency back up spoon.

Then I wrote a blog about Other People’s Ideas and how hard they are to write. For some reason I equated it to making a human being and having too many ears.

Seriously, never give up biscuits. It’s just not worth it.


Wait … what the fuck? THERE WAS NO APRIL! I fucking knew we hadn’t had a full year! Here’s the proof …

Or rather, here isn’t the proof because April never fucking existed. It can’t have existed or I would have blogged about it.

You fuckers stole my April!

I’m a bit cross about that.


All I did in May was give away a really cool book which, despite the cover, has no information in it about how to get laid by writing scripts.


What a rotten swizz.


Apparently, some insanely exciting things were happening in June … but I have no idea what they might have been.

My laptop had a bit of an accident. That was annoying.

laptop-exploding-battery-fireBut I fixed it. Sort of.


What else happened?

Ooh, I wrote some stuff and edited some stuff and had some meetings and all sort of proper writing stuff. That was exciting.

I then went on to promote a writing development scheme thingy.


What was exceptionally exciting about that is a writer friend of mine later told me she’d applied and been accepted onto the course – something she never would have known existed if I hadn’t mentioned it.

That makes me feel all warm and fuzzy. I love being vaguely useful occasionally.

Buoyed on by that, I promoted some free stuff. Which probably isn’t free any more, so … don’t bother clicking that link.

Assuming anyone’s still reading and is even clicking anything. Are you?


Why? Go do something more fun.

Oh, no, wait! This next post was my most popular post of the year. Still is.

I think.




July was simple. All I did in July was reveal the meaning of life and the meaning of illegal.


I got both of them completely and utterly right too.

Because I’m awesome.

I totally rocked July.


I’m getting bored now. Anyone else getting bored?

August! What did I do in August?


There was no August either.

Wait a minute … no April? No August? No months beginning with the letter A?

Hmm …

That video would probably be more relevant if it was actually about the letter A.


There was a September! Since September doesn’t begin with the letter A, this completely proves my theory.

It fucking does!

In September I went to see Monsters University.


Then I gave you writer-based fashion advice.

dr who pants

And I rounded out the month by getting upset about a wine glass.



In October I had a letter from Linda Aronson, which was far politer than I deserved.

Then I wrote the first two parts of my fantastically successful Notes from the Other Side series; which was about my inept fumblings as a script editor for PERSONA.


They were called Part One and Part Two. I’m original like that, I am. I was the first person ever to think of calling something part one and part two.


I’m really bored with this now. I’ve no idea why I do this every year, I mean what is the fucking point? Does anyone read this far? I will send a five pound note to the first person who quotes these three words in the comments:



Jamais vu

That’s a serious offer. I’ll send you a proper five pound note through the proper mail and everything if you’re the first person to copy and paste those three words into a comment.

And 12p to the first person who can use them in a sentence.

And now that I’ve (hopefully) successfully proved no one’s reading any more … on with November.

First up, Part Three of the Notes from the Other Side trilogy. I broke boundaries here by calling the third part Part Three. I also got a bit ranty about it all.


Especially to the person I referred to as a fucking twat; but to be fair. You were.

Or I was.

One of the two.

Possibly both.


Then I talked about tailoring. It was in relation to an upcoming meeting … at which everyone behaved in almost exactly the way I hoped they wouldn’t.


For some reason I then had a pop at actors who don’t afford my scripts the same respect as Shakespeare’s.

No, seriously. I can only assume I was heavily medicated at the time.

download (1)

And I finished the month by gushing about my love for a man. Well, eleven men. Twelve, as it turned out. Thirteen now.

2013-12-30 14.36.45

If you’re feeling particularly geeky, you can spot seven differences between this photo and the one uploaded in November. Although, I warn you now imaginary person who’s never going to fucking bother doing this … number four is almost impossible to spot.


I began December by delivering my verdict of The Day of the Doctor … I fucking loved it. I know I fucking loved it because I wrote “I fucking loved it.”

You can’t argue with that kind of proof.


Then I decided to tattoo something on my forehead so I wouldn’t forget it. This is the worst possible way of remembering stuff … mainly because it’s really fucking hard to see your own forehead.


Don’t do this. Seriously, it’s silly.

And I finished off the year with a series of Christmas crackers – little bloglet mentions of things I either think are cool or just felt like mentioning:

  1. The Elephantom
  2. Totally Serialized (there’s a competition on this one – you can win free tickets!)
  3. Dead Elf
  4. Production Hell
  5. Kung Fury

And that was pretty much it in blogging terms.

Behind the scenes, this was an interesting year. It’s the first year for nearly a decade I haven’t had anything produced or released … and yet I probably earnt more this year than any previous year to date.

Apparently a writer can earn more money by not getting films made than by actually getting involved in all that icky and annoying shooting business.

Who knew?

At the beginning of the year, I made a conscious decision to write something for myself. Something I really, really wanted to write which I would then try to sell.

That didn’t happen.

Instead, I worked almost continuously on other people’s ideas with varying degrees of success.

I had some lovely meetings with some lovely people and at least one of them I didn’t completely screw up.

I got paid to write stuff I enjoyed writing for people who actually cared about the script and wanted to get it right … as opposed to caring about the shooting date (tomorrow) and wanting to get it finished … even if ‘finished’ means ‘nobody fucking cares how good it is, we just need some words’.

As an added extra bonus, a producer sent one of my scripts to a director whose work I really, really admire. I’ve no idea if that guy actually liked the script or not. Probably not, but he wanted to read it and therefore at least now knows who I am.

I’m the guy who’s script he (probably) didn’t like.

Unless he hasn’t read it yet. Which is entirely possible and extremely likely.

2014 already has some super cool awesome stuff lined up with a couple of projects lining up on the starting blocks and even a few lumbering asthmatically towards the final set of hurdles.

Beyond which are another set of even higher hurdles, because that’s what the whole writing gig’s about.

So bring it on 2014, do your worst!

Just nicely.


Categories: BBC, Bored, Career Path, Christmas Crackers, Industry Musings, My Way, Opportunity, Persona, Progress, Random Witterings, Rants, Sad Bastard, Someone Else's Way, Strippers vs. Werewolves, Things I've Learnt Recently, Two steps back, Writing and life | 16 Comments



I huaven’pt been around muchu recently. Or at least I huavent been around muchu in an online sense, obviously I still huave a corporeal body; but, thuanks to a rigrorous exercise progrram, considerably less of a corporeal body thuan I used to huave.

If you follow me on Twitter, you may huave noticed thuere’ps not muchu to follow rigrhut now. If you merely subscribe to thuis blogr in thue vain huope I one day say somethuingr interestingr … you’pve probably noticed I’pm not huere muchu eithuer.

Truthu is I’pm ballbustingrly busy and actually feel gruilty if I do anythuingr withu my laptop othuer thuan write.

Scripts. Othuer thuan write scripts.

So whuere as some insanely excitingr thuingrs are huappeningr, I can’pt really spare thue time to tell anyone. Whuichu is most upsettingr.

Still, huopefully, I shuould be done soon and normal service will resume.

Thue eagrle-eyed amongr you may huave noticed a few typos in thuis post. Sadly thuis appears to huave been thue reesult of a small accident involvingr my laptop, a four year old chuild and a grlass of water. More annoyingr thuuan thue odd random letters is that thue backspace key eithuer returns thue cursor to thue begrinningr off thue pagre or putss it a line up. Thus huelpfully prevent sme from autocorrectingr myself by huittingr backspace after every gr, ‘p or hu.

Thuis, of course, is exactly whuat I need whuen I’pm racingr for a deadline.

Still, it’s not all bad. I have found a solution, it ‍just looks a bit silly.


In other news, Strippers vs. Werewolves is on TV tonight – 21.00 on Movies 24, that well known home of ‘quality’ movies. If you haven’t seen it yet, you’re damned lucky. If you have and want to see it again, seek medical help.

Oh, and if you feel like critiquing the writing based on the film (as opposed to actually reading the script) then just remember – praise goes to Pat Higgins, angry rants and abuse come to me.

Enjoy your day, I’ll be back soon.


Categories: Random Witterings, Strippers vs. Werewolves | 1 Comment

The HMV high


On the day it was announced HMV was going into administration, producer Jonathan Sothcott posted this on his Facebook page (reprinted here with his permission, don’t go copying and pasting it willy nilly now):

524694_227574980676343_1530184419_nAdministration doesn’t mean closure but today’s news about HMV appointing administrators makes it a dark day for the UK film industry. With 90% of physical sales made at supermarkets, HMV was the last bastion of the niche title after the fall of Virgin, Zavvi, MVC, Choices, Tower Records etc. With the supermarkets (understandably) focussing on big budget studio product and uber-commercial top 20 material it means there is nowhere left to buy independent films that don’t make the cut. As a producer, I’m fortunate that my films generally get picked up by the supermarkets. As someone who loves DVDs, I’m gutted that my choices have been so limited.

As a teenager I caught up on more cult movies in the Brighton and Croydon branches of HMV than anywhere else. I know there wasn’t an internet then so the concept of ‘rare films’ made collecting videos more exciting but it was an experience that generations to come are unlikely to have. On Christmas Eve I queued for over an hour in HMV in Croydon buying Christmas presents and it gave me a renewed hope that the rumours were not true and that HMV might live to fight another day.

Alas it was not to be. There’s a lot of silly talk about downloads replacing physical formats and how you have to ‘face up’ to it – scant comfort for the 4,300 people facing unemployment. Download might be on the horizon but I promise you it isn’t here yet. No HMV will push piracy rates up and it will be the illegal downloads that skyrocket.

Sad, sad news.

And it got me thinking.

It got me thinking about how much I enjoy the act of buying something physical, of walking into a shop with cash and walking out with a product I have to wait until I get home to watch.

It got me thinking about what it will mean for low-budget film-makers in the UK and how (apart from a select few who “qualify” for supermarket sales) HMV is the only outlet where people can buy their films; but most of all it got me thinking about how exciting it is to see your own DVD for sale in a shop.


Now, I don’t know if that means anything to you. Mainly because I don’t know who you are.

You may not think seeing a DVD of a film you’ve had a hand in creating on an actual shelf in an actual shop is particularly exciting. Maybe you’ve had so many DVDs released you no longer care? Maybe you’re far too cool to get excited about such trivial things? Maybe you’ve never made any contribution to a film, script or otherwise, and just don’t see what the fuss is about?

Me? I fucking love it.

Regardless of the quality of the film itself, I find something electrifying about seeing my work in a shop. Being able to buy it in public is part of it; but a greater thrill is anyone else can buy it too!

They might buy it in front of me!

They might even tell their mate what they’ve heard about the film. Good or bad, doesn’t matter – it would be an unfiltered opinion!

Okay, so you could argue that the internet is full of unfiltered opinions; but you could equally argue most internet opinions are written using the ‘cunt’ filter. (Yes, including the ones expressed here.)


Even better than that, maybe the guy behind the counter will make some comment on my purchase? Maybe he’ll tell me I’m wasting my money and should buy Football Fuck Ups Vol 18 instead? Maybe he’ll look me in the eye, recognise I’m in some way connected to the making of this DVD and acknowledge me with a knowing nod of the head?

None of these things have ever happened,  by the way; but they could! One day, they might, who knows?

Okay, they probably won’t; but buying your own DVD in an actual shop is so exciting (to me) that it overrides all reason.

First time I saw a DVD of my work on sale was The Evolved. Annoyingly, I bought it before I’d thought of taking a pic.  I had to go back into the shop (or store, for t’was in America) and ask the clerk if I could put it back on the shelf and take a photo of it (lest he saw me taking it off again afterwards and accused me of stealing).

Surely this would be the moment where he recognised my greatness!


2012-01-31 14.59.03

No. He just said “Yeah, whatever. Do what you like.” and strolled off to be impossibly cool somewhere else while I giggled insanely and snapped the photo above.

Not immediately above, higher than that.

Not that one, the one above that.

Go back and look at it! Between The Exorcist and The Evil Dead! How fucking cool is that?

The photos are in chronological order, by the way. I suppose I should move them around so that one is next to this sentence; but I just can’t be fucking bothered.

Oh, I’ve just remembered! I got so excited about seeing The Evolved in store that next time I passed an FYE, some months later, I went in and bought it again. Yes, I am the guy who bought all the physical copies ever sold! Both of them, that was me!

The guy in that shop did pass comment on the DVD, he looked at the cover, looked up at me and said …

“Holy shit! What the fuck is that?”

2012-07-13 14.54.12


I love seeing my work on shop shelves and I love buying them with my own cash … and it saddens me that generations of film-makers to come may not have that opportunity.

If HMV goes (as it probably will) then only those who make the kind of movies supermarkets want to sell will get to experience that buzz; and supermarkets are notoriously fickle about what they will and won’t stock.

Yes the death of HMV would have wider implications for the UK film industry (this article in The Guardian highlights most of them); but from a purely selfish level, I need that small victory at the end of the process.

Writing a film is fucking hard. Dealing with the development process is even fucking harder. Watching the final product emerge as an absolute fucking mess is just soul destroying; but being able to walk into a shop and buy a copy of the DVD, no matter how atrocious its contents … it’s a high I genuinely hope those who’ve never experienced it get to love one day.

But realistically, no HMV means you probably won’t.

You can’t see this, but I’m now doing my sad face.

HMV history in pics

Categories: Industry Musings, Just for the Record, My Way, Random Witterings, Sad Bastard, Stalker, Strippers vs. Werewolves, The Evolved | 1 Comment


Every year, for reasons I can’t quite remember, I do a post which rounds up exactly what happened to me over the past twelve months. To me, these recap posts seem interminably long, dull and quite pointless … but for some reason they always get read more than the original posts did. I have two theories to explain this odd behaviour:

  1. The majority of you wait until the end of the year so you can get the whole  sordid tale in one go.
  2. The majority of you are fucking mental.
  3. I said two theories, why would there be a three?

But with that in mind, let’s  begin. I promise this list will be as dull and as pointless as ever. We begin, in …


I began the year seven days after everyone else because I’m fucking hardcore, despite having been teetotal for 22 years now.

Maybe I just forgot the new year had begun?

Either way, I began with an explanation of one of my favourite writing techniques, THE BOX.

This technique is so awesome and so useful, not only have I not used it since; but I have no recollection of ever using it in the first place. I’m assuming I just made it up.

You know, lied.

Then I had a moment of genius. I know it was genius because Steven Moffat said it was. On Twitter. This is as close to a fact as you can possibly get without using things like set-squares and alphabet-heavy theorems.

This post garnered more views than my arse did that time I accidentally left it in Trafalgar Square. What’s more, people seemed to  like it. It wasn’t really anything much to do with writing and had more to do with my inability to repair a car … but it’s quite funny.

Essentially, I explained How to beat procrastination and was generally awesome while I was doing it. Assuming ‘awesome’ is a synonym for ‘a bit sad’.

You should read it.

I’ll wait.

I immediately failed to capitalise on this massive new following by bloging about some confused Thundercats and rounded off January by having a film I had almost nothing to do with, Stalker, released on DVD.


And lo, the second month did dawn and lower, I did shout a bit about baby-earrings, hotel sink-plugs, iTunes and shitty writing advice.

Ten days later, I was still pretty upset about people charging writers for bad advice and gave my own bad advice for free. This time about dual time-period script writing. I have since ignored every single one of these ‘rules’ … with catastrophic results.

I should learn to listen to me more.

Or at least learn to read the stuff I write.

I also got upset about Tuesdays and stupidity.

Decided Rosie Claverton is ace …

… and then drowned in bullshit.


I watched Deviation in various international locations.

Wondered when The Descendants was going to end.

Showed you the quad for Strippers vs. Werewolves

… which is far better than the film itself.

And then went on a trailer frenzy for season three of Persona:

I finished March by getting into the quarter-finals of The Sitcom Mission.


Don’t know about you, but I’m bored now. I’m also full of duck and empty of sleep. I might give up at any minute.


April was the month … some stuff happened.

Stuff a bit like …

Pointed out ONCE IN A LIFETIME OPPORTUNITIES happened fairly regularly, best not to get too upset about them.

Explained the difference between a character being likeable and people fucking right off with their stupid fucking notes about kittens and fucking rainbows. Or something.

Swore I’d fucking show you all by explaining why script format was important. This would be it, the definitive guide to every aspect of script format explaining why I’m right and you’re all fucking wrong.

Which isn’t egotistical at all, it’s just the way of the world.

And then there was the Strippers vs. Werewolves première.

This post is well worth reading. It’s a master-class in how to blog about the première of your own film when you think it’s shit, without mentioning how shit you think the film is; but instead mentioning sausages. A lot.

Seriously, go read it. See if you can find any mention of how shit the film is.

They were fucking awesome sausages, mind.

After the première, the film came out in the cinemas because this is what happens.

Here, watch the trailer. Just because, alright? Just fucking watch it so I can have a rest from all this fucking typing.


I began May by making good on my promise to explain every aspect of script format. I started with the title page … and then gave up. For ever. I mean … what’s  the fucking point?

The 7th of May was Me Day when the whole world revolved around me for 24 hours.

It wasn’t my birthday or anything, it was just a day when the whole world gathered round to worship me and celebrate how amazing I am. Or was. You may not remember it because I think you were temporarily dead that day.

Ooh, this post on Script Trajectory was quite good. Must have been ill that day.

The papers in May did a mighty fine job of promoting the BluRay/DVD release of Strippers vs. Werewolves by pretending not to know something they patently do and being all sniffy about it in a headline grabbing way.

I can’t be fucked with this, I’m knackered. I’ll finish it off tomorrow.


Hooray! It’s tomorrow!

For me, probably not for you.

June! The month of … more stuff.

Surprisingly little stuff, actually.

All I did was make a mis-step and bitch about people asking me perfectly reasonable questions.

Fuck you, June, you suck.


July was the month I was recruited by a clandestine organisation to invade a nation of pixie warmongers who live in an old forgotten tea cup behind my garden shed. I was given a spud gun, a nifty secret hat and a licence to break wind in public and sent off to murder pixies. After a series of, frankly, quite dull adventures involving grit and teaspoons, I found myself in Yakatang (the capital of the pixie nation, it looks a bit like Harlow only not quite so grim and with a few extra pixies). I was all set to assassinate King Ian (Yakatang’s chief biscuit maker and all round bastard) when I realised the whole incident was merely the result of a dodgy kipper that morning and I had actually invaded Lakeland, naked save for a pink Santa’s hat and brandishing a small clockwork frog.

Come to think of it, that might not have happened either.

I can’t really remember July, can you?

Oh wait, yes I can. In July I …

Went to the BBC TV Writers’ Festival, met all sorts of splendid people and burbled insanely about The Dukes of Hazzard at every opportunity.

I also said Fuck You, Mr Arnopp.

… and then got all serious with some musings on disability in scripts. That one’s worth reading again.


In August I declared myself FREE to whatever the fuck I want, any time I fucking want to do it!

Then did this …

… which probably wasn’t worth the effort.

Then I watched The Dark Knight Rises … which was worth even less effort.

I did fuck all for a couple of weeks and then I had a serious think about the difference between horizontal and vertical careers. Basically, producers can opt for horizontal careers, scriptwriters can’t.

I rounded off August by giving away literally hundreds of literal pounds … because I’m either nice or a complete fucking mug.



Slipped off to the secret writing island for interesting conversations about ‘the first ever genital piercing’ and ‘how to wake someone up with a spoon’ before proclaiming I had a new regime … and then failing to do anything about it.


Bigged up Helen Smith‘s new book The Miracle Inspector, because she’s all kinds of lovely and I felt like it.

The Miracle Inspector by Helen Smith

I paused for a bit longer and dropped in a secret plug for Jason Arnopp’s new book without anyone knowing I’d done it.


Hmm … it kind of looks like I spent the entire month on my secret writing island. Wonder if that was true?

Ooh! I got really shouty about people giving bad advice!


Which was probably uncalled for. Except it wasn’t! Don’t listen to the cunts!

And finally I rambled a bit about changing writers/directors/producers on a film. Which is just fucking annoying, so stop it.


For fuck’s sake, are you still reading? Go out, get some air. Have some fun or otherwise do something more useful than your time.

Like what I am.

October was the month I …

Rambled about recycling jokes.


Realised I shouldn’t be allowed to write horror movies because I don’t really like ’em.


Wrote a long, boring, yet strangely fascinating blog about file names.

And then gave away a free BluRay of some shit or other.

Here’s a photo of me with a spoon.


Why? Why the fuck not?


Thank fuck this is nearly over. I’m not doing this again, I’m bored shitless, fuck knows how you feel.

Met up with some writers …


… and talked about Pets and Zombies. A subject which is nothing to do with either, but just more dull talk about scripts.

And then I saw Looper and explained the RULES OF THE UNIVERSE. There are surprisingly few of them.

Wait, is that all I did in November?

Cool. Let’s hope December was as pointless and then I can go and get some food. I’m having a curry, in case you cared.


Got beaten up by a four year old.

Explained why fighting naked isn’t always sexy and having your arse and boobs on the same side definitely isn’t.


Somehow managed to defend iPhones while slagging off myself. How the fuck did that happen?


And then promoted a festival because someone asked me to and it was easier than thinking of anything new to write.

totally serialized

And really, that was it. That was the whole year.

Fuck me.

I did do quite a lot of proper writing too, I just didn’t really talk about it much. I script edited hours and fucking hours of Persona, wrote far too much of it and worked on multiple drafts of seven features … so not too bad.

But not good enough.

I will do better next year.

Which is in about five hours’ time.

If you want proper stats and all kinds of flashy animation about all the stuff I blogged about this year, then you need help.

Or this link.

Hope 2012 was super-sexy-awesome for you, now stop reading this, go out and get pissed.


Categories: Bored, Career Path, Festivals, Industry Musings, My Way, Opportunity, Persona, Progress, Publicity, Random Witterings, Rants, Sad Bastard, Sitcom Mission, Someone Else's Way, Stalker, Strippers vs. Werewolves, Things I've Learnt Recently, Two steps back, Writing and life | Leave a comment


Did you see this story in The Sun a few weeks back?

If you didn’t, and don’t feel like giving The Sun any web-traffic, then the essence is:

Strippers vs. Werewolves only took £38 at the box office on its opening weekend!


Some tweeters went on to compare that £38 with The Avengers‘ £15,778,074 which, on the surface makes it even more laughable.

Unless, of course, you take the view that since Avengers cost £200,000,000 to make and SvW cost … um … considerably less, then technically SvW was less in the red after the first weekend than The Avengers.

This is, of course, a silly way of looking at things. Let’s be honest and upfront here – The Avengers is a far, far superior film. If you only go and see one film this year, make it that. If you have a choice between The Avengers and SvW – Avengers for the win every time. It’s made a lot because it’s awesome. Easily 415,212.474 times more awesome than SvW.


But .. £38 – that’s awful … isn’t it?

Surprisingly, no.

Surprisingly, that’s actually good.

Surprisingly, that’s actually quite surprising.


Well, because there’s an open industry secret surrounding a ‘limited theatrical release’ which everybody knows. Seriously, everyone knows it. Whoever wrote that Sun article knows it. Most of you reading this blog already know it. If you don’t, well I’m not going to spill the beans here – it’s a secret.

And don’t go spoiling it for everyone in the comments neither.


But the upshot of that secret is SvW wasn’t supposed to make any money in the cinema.


Think about it. The film was shown on six screens in the middle of weekdays without any advertising in either the papers, radio, TV or even outside the cinemas themselves. I’ll hazard a guess and say none of the six screens actually put up posters for the film or even had any posters to put up.

In other words, the film’s presence at those specific cinemas wasn’t advertised at all.

Or to put it in slightly different words no money was spent on promoting the theatrical release because the promotion often costs more than the film does.

Why would you put a film in the cinema and not tell anyone which cinemas it’s in or how to go and see it?

Aha! That’s the secret!

Think of it this way: have you heard of Strippers vs. Werewolves? Did you know it was in the cinema?

No? You do now.

Yes? You missed it! How did that happen?

Now … assuming you’re not a thieving pirate scumbag, are sufficiently intrigued by the title and don’t want The Sun to make your mind up for you … how are you going to watch the film?

You might, for example, go to one of these places:






And pay to watch the film.

Pay to watch a film you’ve seen no paid advertising for, but have heard of because almost every paper and movie magazine in the land reviewed the film and then several of them went on to run stories about how little money it made in its opening weekend.

That’s not the secret, by the way – that’s just an intended consequence. Not intended by me, I’m not manipulating the media and have no input on any of this – this is just how things get done.

So the fact around four people spent £38 to go and see the film is cause for celebration – that really is £38 no one expected to make! Thank you, random four strangers!

The fact The Sun runs a story telling everyone about the film again is another win! More free publicity!

The fact the story was gleefully retweeted multiple times on Twitter by people who feel smug and superior because they think they’re being nasty in public is another win! Thank you random nasty people, you’ve just helped spread word of the film further and wider!

Things aren’t always what they seem and while it would be great to have Avengers-style money … that was never going to happen. It was so obviously never going to happen, it was never the plan or the point.

The point is a secret, but Strippers vs. Werewolves is available in shops right now … although, you knew that, right?

Categories: Industry Musings, Someone Else's Way, Strippers vs. Werewolves | 10 Comments

Happy Me-day!

It’s Me-day!

Happy Me-day, everyone!

Take the day off! Have a public holiday all you hard working banks, for today is all about me.


Don’t believe me?

You fools! Why, take a look at this incontrovertible truth:



It’s kind of what it says really: out on DVD and BluRay today, a film loosely based on a script I re-wrote some bits of.

Okay, so technically there were other people involved in this, like Pat Higgins who had all the ideas and Jonathan Glendening who directed it and the cast who either sprouted hair or took their clothes off accordingly … but fuck them! This is Me-day, celebrate me!

Here, have trailer:



PERSONA is the world’s first daily drama-app made entirely for smartphones … and if you don’t already know that then you’re either missing out on three seasons worth of top-notch entertainment delivered directly to the palm of your hand for NOTHING … or you don’t have a smartphone.

Or you don’t care.

Either way, you’re missing out.

Season 4! Starts today, on Me-day!

Again, there were some other people involved. Rosie Claverton:


Martyn Deakin:


But more importantly, me!

And … um … there should be another trailer here. Not sure where that one is.

But never mind!

Watch PERSONA for free:



Watch Strippers vs. Werewolves for not-free:





Or better yet, do both and celebrate Me-day in style.

So go on, have a drink, be entertained (probably) and revel in the awesomeness (maybe) which is me (doubtful)!


Categories: Persona, Strippers vs. Werewolves | 3 Comments

Strippers vs. Werewolves – in cinemas now!

Written by Pat Higgins (and, to a lesser extent, me), directed by Jonathan Glendening and produced by Jonathan Sothcott and Simon Phillips – one or all of us is to thank/blame for Strippers vs. Werewolves hitting the big screen near you right now.

Unless you’re reading this at three in the morning, in which case it probably isn’t on right now. But later on, maybe?

Unless you’re reading this in the future, in which case – you missed it. Sorry.

Strippers vs. Werewolves!

Starring Adele Silva, Ali Bastian, Sarah Douglas, Billy Murray, Robert Englund, Coralie Rose, Lysette Anthony, Steven Berkoff, Alan Ford, Barbara Nedeljakova, Lucy Pinder, Martin Compston and Martin Kemp and some other people!

The trailer looks almost exactly like this:

What’s it about?

Don’t ask stupid fucking questions.

Strippers vs. Werewolves – out now!

Categories: Strippers vs. Werewolves | 2 Comments

Strippers vs Werewolves – the première

I got some new glasses yesterday. Thing is, statistically, I don’t wear glasses.

I mean, obviously I do wear glasses, but so infrequently I might as well not bother.

In fact, I only wear them for driving in the dark or going to the cinema; so when I picked my new pair up yesterday I needed to find an activity which involved doing both.

Thing is, what involves going to the cinema and driving in the dark?

Hmm …

Oh, yeah!

Something like this would be perfect:

And so, with no further ado beyond some lunch, some shopping, a cup of tea and a bit of a sit down, Mandy and I got dolled up in our finest:

… and set off for London Town.

I, um, didn’t take a photo of us. Suffice it to say, Mandy looked awesome and hot and awesome. I was considerably less so, being ginger; but did my best.

Ooh, one of her shoes looked like this!

The other one looked kind of the same, but opposite.

And lo, on the twenty-fourth day of the fourth month of the last year according to wacko conspiracy-theorists, we did arrive at the Apollo Piccadilly Circus:

I, um, forgot to take a picture of that too. Hang on, I’ll see if there’s one on the internet …

It’s kind of almost exactly like that, only with lots of photographers outside and boards and posters all over the place saying it was the Strippers vs. Werewolves première. It was really exciting, I wish I’d taken a photo of it now.

As we walked in, the press took these photos of Mandy and I:










Oh. Looks like they forgot to take photos too. Which is weird because I did do the production re-writes of Pat Higgins‘, frankly, awesome script and am therefore of no consequence whatsoever.

Bloody press, eh? No wonder they’re in so much trouble over phone-hacking if they can’t even take a few photos of celebrities such as myself. I feel sorry for them when they have to tell their editor later on (who is doubtlessly a very angry, cigar smoking man with a flat top) that they completely failed to get photos of any–
















I see, that’s how it is, is it?

Well, I bet these so called ‘photographers’ didn’t get this shot:

Because if they did it would probably be better framed and not on an odd angle and maybe more in focus.

By the way, The Daily Mail described Lucy Pinder’s outfit as “drab”; which I can only assume is idiot-journo-speak for “didn’t have her tits out” or “dressed completely appropriately for the occasion” because I think she looked stunning.

And then the movie started! The moment I’d been waiting for! The moment when I could wear my new specs!

To preserve the sense of occasion, I recorded the whole film on my phone for you to watch here:

Oh, don’t know what happened there.

Never mind, you can watch it on Friday in the cinema or catch it on BluRay or DVD from May 7th.

The showing was a complete success – my specs worked perfectly; and after tucking them away and being gleefully hugged by one of these ladies:

… Mandy and I slipped off to the after party which was here:

Yeah, I forgot to take a photo of that too.

To be fair, the Zoo ladies were blocking the entrance and drawing a massive amount of attention, so we had to wait until they’d finished and we could slip in quietly. I didn’t want to upstage them:

The Penthouse is a pretty spunky place (if you’d seen the website I just got the above image from, you’d feel sick typing that sentence). I completely failed to take photos of either the view or the interior; but luckily @louisabradshaw took this one of the view:

Which I stole, sorry! And the interior looked like this:

Only, without the tables and the girl and … well, it’s the same room; but it didn’t really look anything like that.

We got some free sausages though! Did I mention the sausages? They were free and they were sausages.

I ate lots.

Because they were free.

Then we chatted to some people, had some free drinks and some more free sausages.

Free! They were free!

There were other canapé things there too, but the sausages really stuck in my mind. And my teeth.

At the end of the night, just as the clock struck midnight, my dress turned back into rags and I fled the scene leaving behind one glass … no wait, that wasn’t me.

At the end of the night, we went home on the train (which took forever) and then I got to wear my glasses again driving home:

You can choose to believe that’s a missing photo of the train, my glasses, me driving home or my house. Knock yourself out, I didn’t take photos of none of them.

In fact, the only worthwhile photo I took all night was this one:

And that, to me, is worth all the free sausages you can eat.

Just not all I can eat, because I’m a greedy bastard.

Categories: Sad Bastard, Strippers vs. Werewolves | 9 Comments

Strippers vs. Werewolves DVD pre-order

Pretty much what it says, really – the DVD of Strippers s. Werewolves is available for pre-order on Amazon or Play or.HMV or … well, pretty much everywhere you can imagine.

Except Mothercare.

And probably Greggs.

And maybe most shops now I come to think about it.

I’ll try again.

Strippers vs. Werewolves is available to pre-order on DVD from nearly everywhere that sells DVDs and has a pre-order facility.

You can pre-order the Blu-ray too, if you’re of that persuasion.

And what the hell, here’s the trailer again for … wel, just for the sake of it:

Categories: Strippers vs. Werewolves | 2 Comments

Strippers vs Werewolves quad

What’s that, you say? You’d like to see a new poster for Strippers vs Werewolves, but this time you’d like it to be a quad (British format) as opposed to a one-sheet (American format)? Ideally you’d like to see the last one-sheeet redesigned as a quad with some review quotes down the side?

My, but you’re a demanding soul, aren’t you? Those are some mighty specific demands, I don’t know if I can–

Oh, wait! There’s one:

Categories: Strippers vs. Werewolves | Leave a comment

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