Features September 2008 -

A day in the life of a writer - Alice Richardson

Pete Richens has been writing comedy screenplay for nearly thirty years. He dreamed of being a Science Fiction novelist until he met a group of aspiring comedians in London. I went and spent the day with him on the film set of his latest project, and observed the ambiguous yet vital role a writer plays when the two industries merge.

07:00hrs
It is a cold November morning in a street in South London. Lighting vans and catering lorries cluster around a large, square house, creating an isolated buzz of activity on the dark, sleepy street. Equipment is being unloaded by puffa-coated crew who look tired and cold. But cigarettes are passed around and the film-set banter, (not unlike war-time camaraderie) bounces around effortlessly. Pete Richens is drinking his second coffee out of a polystyrene cup as the frosty sunlight starts to emerge from behind the rooftops. The expensive frenzy that evolves around him is dictated by a few flourishes of his pen. Last night he and the director changed the entire ending to the script. A few twilight hours in one man’s hotel room has changed where, when and what will be happening today. Yet here he is, backed up against a lighting van, shredding a polystyrene cup.
Pete has been writing comedy scripts since he was in his twenties and has been involved with the making of most of them, yet he could be mistaken for an anonymous bystander as he watches on the sidelines.
Pete’s role on the set is an awkward one. He is a writer and production teams can make writers feel unwelcome. This is because they have a tendency to complicate things. They add lines and make changes without thinking about camera angles or budget. This set has a nice atmosphere though and Pete is enjoying his last day.

09:00hrs
Filming has begun inside the house. Although it is spacious inside, the people and equipment make it a claustrophobic tangle of obstacles. I follow Pete closely. He expertly dodges cameras and tripods. Up close though, the chaos is organised and everyone knows what they are doing where they are going.
The set is bathed in artificial sunlight and is bristling with activity. A serious looking young assistant charges past with two cups of steaming coffee whilst a couple of make-up artists are laughing in the corner. A young actress sits on an up-turned box, smoking a cigarette, her hair piled up in pink rollers. Dry ice is pumped around the room and it billows and blooms making everyone choke. The first assistant shouts, the clapboard snaps shut and Pete’s words start to come to life.
Pete ducks into a small dark room where the soundman has set up his temporary office. He is a good person to find on set because he has a monitor and a place to sit down, ideal for watching at a distance. Pete sinks into a leather sofa and watches the monitor intently.

1400hrs
Lunch time: The catering crew chirp away as they serve hot plates of salty food to the ravenous film crew. Pete takes his lunch and climbs to the top floor of the double-decker dining bus. During lunch, he sits with the director and checks the script, pencilling minor changes here and there. Pete is astoundingly blasé about his career and his talents. He speaks about it as though it were a shirt he happened to be wearing. He is negative about the script, he always is, but the director is choking on his food laughing. Like most of his scripts, this one was born out of something he saw, an encounter or a dysfunctional relationship that made him laugh. Sometimes his ideas peter out, but sometimes they have legs that carry them- like this one.
Soon the noisy bus reluctantly clears as the crew swarm back into the house. A woman wearing an apron stands on her doorstep glowering at the film set circus. A young, handsome runner shouts something charming and she smiles reluctantly and shuts the door.
Pete takes another cup of coffee into the house and stands at the edge of the brightly lit room. A few people slap him on the back as they walk past. There is a rap (end of filming) party tonight and he gives a non-committal laugh when asked if he is coming.

1800
It is cold and dark outside now. The director is talking to the actress and the make up artists are brushing each other’s hair. The whole room is as alive and brimming with energy as it was this morning. The filming will probably go on for a few more hours, but Pete’s work here is done. He buttons up his grey coat and weaves his way through the tangle of lights, wires and people. No one sees him go and I feel that he wants it that way. Before he walks away from the noise and chaos he says, ‘It’s a bit like being a director without the responsibility or the fun. But the writing makes it all worthwhile. Writing scripts has never felt like a job to me and anyone that can get to the age of sixty without ever doing a day’s work, has had a life well spent in my opinion.’