BYE-CHILD writer and director

And the Prize for the Oldest Newcomer goes to......

Printed in the Sunday Times the week before Bernard went to the BAFTA Film Awards in February 2004

This time last year I was losing sleep. Wakening first thing in the morning with knuckles and teeth clenched. White knuckles, white teeth. The reason for the rigidity was that I was going to direct a short film which I had written. And I didn't know how to.

One of my most frequent nightmares is of sitting exams for which I have done no studying. The nightmare was about to become a reality. In front of an audience of about forty grown professional people. I had done a weekend course 'Directing for the single camera' - this was good - but good only in the way graffiti on toilet walls are of use to a boy going out to lose his virginity.

The most useful thing I learned on that course was the importance of preparation. And my preparation was my story board. I drew meticulously - so much so that I found myself ridiculously trying to do the best drawings I could - shading, colouring them in like a child. But when it came to being on set and there was a problem I could always refer back to my comic - point at it - that's the scene, that's what I want. The whole project had started a couple of years before when I'd been talking to an audience about a poem of Seamus Heaney's called 'Bye-Child' and how it had wormed its way into some of the things I had written. Afterwards a young man, Andrew Bonner, came up to me and said that he thought the poem would make a good short film and would I be interested in writing it because he'd certainly be interested in producing it.

  'What have you made before ?'
  'Nothing.'
Brilliant.
  'If that's the case I want to direct it.'

I had written two full length movies and had been around for some of the shooting but I knew absolutely nothing about how to get images 'in the can'. Andrew said all I needed to do was concern myself with the performances - and get a good cameraman and a good 1st AD.    'What's a 1st AD ?'

He told me. He obviously knew more than he was letting on.

So I wrote a screenplay, set in a remote part of Northern Ireland in the early 70's, which tells a story of some boys playing hide and seek and the grim discovery they make about one family's dark secrets - and how the blight of abuse can be passed from one generation to the next no matter what technological advances mankind makes. And we applied for, and got, monies from Scottish Screen and the Northern Ireland Film Commission and the Scottish Arts Council's Creative Scotland Awards.

We sent the script to our first choice of actress, Susan Lynch ( I had already worked with her brother John who played the lead in CAL) Susan said she would love to do it. And she was utterly brilliant - wonderful to work with. We found a location in Ireland - just happened on it outside Antrim - the right dilapidated farmhouse from the script. We approached it cautiously waiting for dogs to attack us. Silence. We looked through the windows and saw that the house was empty. It was as if the architect had seen my storyboard - right down to the range in the kitchen and the window overlooking the untidy garden. The house had been vacated only two weeks previously. Nothing had been changed in 40 years - so it was right for our period. We later learned that the farm was to be sold and the new owner was going to knock the house down. So we could do what we liked with it.

It was to be a six day shoot. I was blessed with a great cast and good June weather. The Director of Photography was Oliver Cheesman, and the 1stAD was Amanda Black. They both knew I was a beginner - indeed they constantly pointed this out. I was frequently asked how I was feeling and what it was like. In response I told an old joke about a child who goes to school for the first time. The school bully grabs him, sits on his chest, punches him repeatedly in the face shouting 'Have you had enough ? Have you had enough ?' And the child cries out in anguish 'I don't know - this is my first fight.' So I didn't know what to expect. I had nothing to compare it to.

I asked a friend who was a film director for one piece of advice. She said 'Make decisions - it doesn't matter whether they are right or wrong. Make them.' That reminded me of the man who said, 'When you come to a fork in the road - take it.' But I knew what she meant. The first morning of the shoot was a church scene and wardrobe were dressing Susan to go to mass. They paraded her in a headscarf. 'Too much like the queen at a race-meeting,' I said 'What about that awful knitted pink thing ?' They tried this awful hat on her. 'Perfect,' I said and walked out. That's how you make decisions

A whole new set of decisions has to be made when the shooting is over. You have made your mistakes. You don't have shots for this that or the other. So you start to make the film anew. I was glad that Bert Eels, our editor, was there. His quiet, thoughtful presence in post production was wonderfully helpful. One Monday morning he came in full of excitement and said, ' I was digging in the garden on Sunday and I thought of a better place for that grunt.'

It sounds like a cliche but film is a team thing. I can't remember who it was compared film-making to building a medieval cathedral - the end result is the accumulation of architects, stone-masons, woodcarvers, stained glass etc., but the image works. Andrew's idea, my script, Bert Eel's edit of Oliver Cheeseman's pictures, Eddie McGuire's score, John Cobban's sound. And I am so grateful to them. If the story doesn't work it's my fault. At least we have a new concept - a miniature cathedral.

But there are indications that it has worked. To be nominated for a BAFTA award for the Best Short Film category is great. The only award I thought I was up for was The Oldest Newcomer.