Inside the inaugural edition of the Collective Film Festival London

‘Diversity’ and ​‘inclusion’ have become corporate buzzwords, vibe-free boxes to be ticked on BFI funding application forms, so it is an experience to be reminded that these words represent an ideal that does exist. Collective Film Festival London – the inaugural one-day fiesta which took place on 18 July at Collective Acting Studio in Finsbury Park – was an antidote to business-driven festivals. A collective passion for using filmmaking to tell marginalised stories dominated over glassy-eyed careerism. The welcoming atmosphere was not contingent on proving oneself professionally useful. 

Full disclosure, I went as a punter – unaware that I was going to be reviewing! – so this is a very chaotic account. Full disclosure part II: Little White Lies is a media partner of the Collective Film Festival and my heart swelled as copies of our Sinners issue were handed over alongside a glass award at the evening ceremony.

First stop and – my big draw of the day – was a masterclass titled Bridging Sound and Story in Screenwriting. Hosted by School of Bop, it was a conversation between the composer Robert Kigozi (alias: R‑Kay) and directors Cristina Conde Tkatchenko and Kabelo Murray. Focus was divided between explaining how their creative collaboration worked by deconstructing the making of a Japanese-cinema influenced horror short they made together and, secondly, an explanation of the ethos of the collective Thunder City Films (more on this in a bit).

The euphoria of this session had more to do with the way that information was communicated rather than what was communicated. While there was curiosity value in the privileged access we were given to Google docs full of influences (from Kurosawa to Spielberg) and in watching scenes from The Light with and without the score, it was most liberating to hear Murray nonchalantly talk about how the heroine of The Light shares some of his ADHD traits. Indeed her environmental sensitivity – and how it is dismissed by her friends – forms the basis of the horror. 

This vibe – self-accepting and accepting of others – was explicated as fundamental to the ethos of Thunder City Films, a production company started by Tkatchenko and Murray after they became fed up with the gate-keepery nature of the British film industry. TFC professes to welcome contact from anyone interested in furthering their filmmaking journey. Those who share their values are encouraged to reach out for anything from advice on deciphering funding applications to opportunities to shadow their chosen department on a film shoot.

For his part, R‑Kay was good, giving and game, a versatile talent whose work on The Light blurred the lines between score and sound design, elevating it to a disturbing realm (high compliment).

There were so many questions after the session that I was tragically late to my next appointment, a short film programme composed of My Jerome by Adajani Salmon, Fractured Frame by Natalie Lauren Woodward, The First Time That I Never Met You by Eric Kole and See You in the Dark by Asena Nour. (My Jerome and See You in the Dark went on to win awards at the ceremony later.) Still, the overall flavour was of distinctive voices and perspectives that creatively explored a facet of contemporary London life. Q&As focused on demystifying any and every element of production for an audience of young, hungry creatives. Humour and humility set the tone as the filmmakers owned what they had learned and what mistakes had been made.

The awards ceremony was a communal love-in! Everyone from the festival’s creator, Anthony Vander, to the volunteers were called onto stage to receive their flowers. Awards were handed for short films, as well as an honorary one for community leader, Shawdon Smith whose Ambitious Academy aims to fill the gap left by the demise of youth clubs, engaging overlooked communities to skill up through a range of creative courses.

The mood was rapturous as I, beginning to feel like a tourist, slipped out before the post-awards karaōke.