Grumpy Git Productions proudly announce the release of their latest film, Big River. I hope that you enjoy it:
Background
I first heard Jimmy Nail performing Big River back in 1995, and the song instantly struck a chord with me (pun more or less intended). It tells the story about Jimmy’s memories of growing up in the North East and his recollections about his father’s career in the Tyne shipyards when coal, steel and shipbuilding were the backbone of North East industry. It’s a lovely song; melodic with some atmospheric twanging (as we non-musicians call it) provided by my favourite musician, Mark Knopfler of Dire Straits, on lead guitar - yet with Jimmy’s gruff tones providing a rough and ready working class feel as he relates the story.
One of the most famous ships to be built on the Tyne; RMS Mauretania being fitted out.
RMS Mauretania leaving the Tyne on the 22 October 1907 .
Jimmy Nail compares the days of his father’s generation with the gradual decline of the river and its dependence on coal to a period of depression and stagnation as, one by one, the shipyards and coal mines closed down. The song ends with a promise for the future; ‘The river will rise again’. Fourteen years on, the river is rising again and the regeneration has been amazing, especially along the old quaysides at Newcastle. Downstream, work is in progress to give new life to long dead shipyards, factories and coal loading staiths and quays. Into their place go apartments, riverside parks and shopping centres – hardly the industrial powerhouse of fifty years ago, but nevertheless, a very welcome resurgence of life to the area. This would make a fascinating film, so back in July I decided to make a video that would accompany the song.
Jimmy’s memories were broadly similar to my own in several respects. I was brought up on the River Wear, rather than the Tyne itself, but was no stranger to the ‘Big River’, especially Newcastle. Any self respecting Mackem (someone from Sunderland) will flinch at the preposterous idea that anyone from Sunderland could even hint at an association with Newcastle, but there you go. Live and let live, eh?
Your author at Roker on the River Wear, long before grumpiness set in.
My mother would also take my younger brother and me to South Shields, and we’d watch the ships entering and leaving the river – I paid homage to this with an old family photo near the beginning of the film, as it leads nicely into the present day scene at the same location. That picture was taken in 1974; some 35 years later the ship looks as handsome as ever, whilst as for me …..
To keep the story relevant, I decided to follow the lyrics with images as closely as possible, but substitute the family coal mining connections in place of the shipyards mentioned in the original. Of course, mining was inextricably intertwined with shipbuilding and every other industry at the time anyway. Coal was King, and with good reason - it fuelled industry; provided warmth and electricity to homes, ran the railways that provided transportation and, of course, coal drove the ships that were being built on the Tyne itself. In the film, therefore, impressions of this vast industry would be vital to create the atmosphere that I wanted to convey.
Before filming began, I listened to the song many times in the car on the way to work and back, so that I could create the storyboard in my mind. Once I had a visualisation set in place, the interesting research work could begin. Authenticity was an important factor; the film would need to look and feel the part, especially to anyone who hails from the area. A little poetic licence would be necessary as the only trams I’ve ever been on have been in museums (I just look as though I used to commute on them).
I had various requirements for the film; notably I needed a functioning coal mine and industrial machinery hard at work; old street scenes with trams; docks and / or shipyards; ships of different shapes and sizes; steam trains; modern scenes of the regenerated Tyne, vintage scenes of the declining Tyne and a closed colliery. So, that’s not asking too much, then.
After some research online, I chose the locations that seemed best suited for my purposes. The first trip was to the National Coal Mining Museum, and my story about the visit is recounted here. The NCM would feature as a 1970’s closed colliery, and I also obtained footage of the old ‘Paddy Train’, the quaint narrow gauge railway that took the miners to their work. This was quite a bonus, especially as it was operating during my visit.
The bulk of filming was done over a manic three-day visit to the North East over the summer bank holiday, which I wrote about here. The locations used for filming were Beamish Living Museum, Ryhope Steam Engines Museum and the River Tyne between Hebburn and Tynemouth, plus Newcastle Quays.
Beamish really made the historical part of the film possible. It provided the authentic street scenes, trams, the lovely park and some of the coal mine shots – notably the all-important working pithead winding gear that would recreate the atmosphere of the industrial era. Everything at Beamish is genuine North East material; whole buildings were dismantled brick by brick and erected at the museum in order to recreate the atmosphere of days gone by. The shops and businesses are genuine North East companies, and even the featured trams are from Sunderland and Gateshead. All of this would add impact to the film and make it more believable.
When Beamish first opened in the 1970's, they advertised for suitable old relics to be exhibited. My mother donated an old vacuum cleaner that now resides in one of the miner’s cottages. That’s impressed you, eh?
Thanks to Beamish and the NCM I now had plenty of exterior scenes to play with, but to really bring the industrial age to life I needed to get up close and personal with big old coal fired engines that used to power just about everything in industry and the home. I was after engines that took up entire buildings; steaming and pumping away amidst gleaming brass levers, polished steel, dials, handles, wheels, counterweights and pistons. How different to today’s machinery – anonymous grey cabinets full of flickering red and green diodes and clicking relays. These grey boxes do everything from powering the office coffee machine to unleashing nuclear war, and they just don’t have any character.
The big engines that I sought after looked and smelt like ‘proper kit.’ Nowadays in Britain, heavy industry is regarded as the machine that puts a dollop of butter on those pre-packed sandwiches on sale in Tesco. But real steam engines were almost a living entity – speak to the older generation who actually worked on them and you’ll understand this. Engines needed feeding with coal, then nurturing and cosseting to produce results and power. The men that fired and operated these beasts took great pride in them; hence spotless engine rooms full of gleaming brass and polished steelwork. Don’t get me wrong; working on them was not romantic or easy. It was hard work – bloody hard work, and not for the faint hearted. Shifts were long, incredibly hot, dirty and strenuous and conditions weren’t in the least bit comfortable. But nevertheless, many men who slaved away on them, whether they be steam trains, steamships or industry took great pride in getting the best out of their engines.
When things went wrong, these engines would blow up. It was messy, but at least you knew where the problem lay. What happens now when a machine goes wrong?
“Error Message 6142589. Port LFR2168 nodule unable to locate SMTP server 5469 LAN on proxy failed sender h=domainkey-signature:content-priority: bh=Ce08Lu7ZHp0Fb = pressing any key will delete entire hard drive. Not pressing any key within 30 seconds will delete entire hard drive. Press any key to continue."
Yes, we’ve all been there. No such gibberish back then; an error message was an almighty bang, and your head, arms and legs went through the roof, and not necessarily in that order.
To obtain footage of one such engine, I visited the Ryhope Engines Museum (story here) and was incredibly fortunate that it was during one of the handful of steaming days. I was able to film the boiler being fired up, and the huge pumping engine – that occupies three floors – in action. Ryhope Engines Museum itself is extremely friendly and welcoming, and I would thoroughly recommend a visit. The footage gained from the visit was invaluable, and would add a lot to the film.
The River Tyne was the most complex location to film at, as I needed to cover a large area in both geographical terms and timescale. Also, whereas my other locations were aimed at a clearly defined chapter of history, here I would require present day scenes, footage from the declining years when things were closing down and rotting away, plus some vintage clips to represent the industrial era. All of this, however, simply made the task more enjoyable and creative. The piers at Tynemouth, where the river enters the sea, were timeless and would suit any era. Newcastle Quays would represent the modern era, thanks to the fantastic regeneration programme in this area. Seeking out the 1970’s spots proved the most difficult, but in my travels I came across some abandoned quays and wooden jetties that have so far evaded the developers, who are steadily rebuilding everything. Film it while it’s there was my motto – leave it, and in six months time it could be yet another block of unaffordable apartments called ‘Cargo Ship View’ or ‘Derricks Haven’ or some such bollocks that developers think is necessary to remind homeowners that they are living next to a river, and thus justify the extra 25% purchase price. (It’s similar to the way that when they build houses on the site of old railway workshops; they come up with Gresley Close and Stephenson Mews. In years to come, when they put apartments up in Downing Street, I trust that it will be renamed ‘Lying Bastards Avenue’ in order to maintain the theme).
'Dock View', 'Big Cranes Drive' and 'Oil-Rig in My Garden Crescent' line the Tyne on
the 'Down By The Riverside Estate.' Aren't modern developers original?
I obtained some great shots along the Tyne, including the all-important opening scene of the cobblestone road and The Steamboat pub. That didn’t come from Beamish; no, it’s at South Shields in the beautifully restored area known as Custom House. Filming was done at daybreak; any later and the line of parked Mondeos and Vectras rather ruins the image. Plus you get knocked down while standing on the cobbles and that really spoils your day. As it is, it took half a dozen attempts to get that shot. I kept getting traffic going past at the top of the road, even at that unearthly hour, and when I moved the camera to the right to compensate, I discovered that I had a lovely view of a parked up Citroen Picasso. It was such a great shot that I persevered, and having seen the result, am pleased that I did. The Steamboat Pub is a lovely hostelry to frequent, and if you are going to follow my ‘Tyne Trail’, then call in for a much needed tipple during walkabout. If the owners of The Steamboat would like to thank me for the publicity with a pint or two - well, it would be rude to refuse. I knew I could work that in unobtrusively.
Finally, I wanted an impression of the railways that linked everything together, especially some industrial footage from a grimy, working yard. For this, the trusty Nene Valley Railway would provide the answer; I have written about my visit to obtain these scenes here, and in a less technical manner, here.
Editing would require three distinct timeframes that would suit the three chapters of the story – present day, my childhood, and the ‘King Coal’ era. Present day would be in colour; the declining years in black and white, whilst the earlier era would need to be in black and white that would be aged to date it.
I now had masses amounts of film to play with. Editing had begun shortly after the visit to the Tyne, and I gradually joined up the various segments over umpteen cups of coffee and packs of Hobnobs. I don’t know how many times I listened to the song during this process – every edit required a run through to see if the changes had worked – but it’s a lot. Maybe I should go on ‘Britain’s Lamentably Short of Talent’; I’d be word perfect. The hard task of what to include and what to leave out got underway. Some clips were a natural choice; The Steamboat pub, the boy running for the tram, the Tyne Bridge and the cruise ship Boudicca passing the cannons at Tynemouth as she headed out to sea. Other scenes fitted the lyrics so well that they were included by default, even if they weren’t technically good shots. Editing took several weeks, as there were so many permutations to work with. Several good scenes were reluctantly cut for various reasons, and different techniques to represent the three distinct eras were tried. Some were great, some were awful; it was an absorbing exercise. Finally, I was pleased with what emerged. I had a film that closely matched the song lyrics, as well as the tempo of the music. It was a reasonably accurate impression of my memories, and contains a great deal of authentic material, even if it has been suitably doctored.
This is one of the best photos I've ever taken.
The song is, to my mind, a fantastic piece of writing. If you aren’t tapping your foot to the beat by the time the song ends, then you must have no aptitude for music at all, and I can therefore only suggest that you audition for X-Factor.
One of the most famous ships to be built on the Tyne; RMS Mauretania being fitted out. Photo from the Atlantic Liners website.
RMS Mauretania leaving the Tyne on the 22 October 1907 .From a picture by Tom M Hemy in the collection of Newcastle Arts Centre.
Jimmy Nail compares the days of his father’s generation with the gradual decline of the river and its dependence on coal to a period of depression and stagnation as, one by one, the shipyards and coal mines closed down. The song ends with a promise for the future; ‘The river will rise again’. Fourteen years on, the river is rising again and the regeneration has been amazing, especially along the old quaysides at Newcastle. Downstream, work is in progress to give new life to long dead shipyards, factories and coal loading staiths and quays. Into their place go apartments, riverside parks and shopping centres – hardly the industrial powerhouse of fifty years ago, but nevertheless, a very welcome resurgence of life to the area. This would make a fascinating film, so back in July I decided to make a video that would accompany the song.
Jimmy’s memories were broadly similar to my own in several respects. I was brought up on the River Wear, rather than the Tyne itself, but was no stranger to the ‘Big River’, especially Newcastle. Any self respecting Mackem (someone from Sunderland) will flinch at the preposterous idea that anyone from Sunderland could even hint at an association with Newcastle, but there you go. Live and let live, eh?
Your author at Roker on the River Wear, long before grumpiness set in. My mother would also take my younger brother and me to South Shields, and we’d watch the ships entering and leaving the river – I paid homage to this with an old family photo near the beginning of the film, as it leads nicely into the present day scene at the same location. That picture was taken in 1974; some 35 years later the ship looks as handsome as ever, whilst as for me …..
To keep the story relevant, I decided to follow the lyrics with images as closely as possible, but substitute the family coal mining connections in place of the shipyards mentioned in the original. Of course, mining was inextricably intertwined with shipbuilding and every other industry at the time anyway. Coal was King, and with good reason - it fuelled industry; provided warmth and electricity to homes, ran the railways that provided transportation and, of course, coal drove the ships that were being built on the Tyne itself. In the film, therefore, impressions of this vast industry would be vital to create the atmosphere that I wanted to convey.
Filming
I had various requirements for the film; notably I needed a functioning coal mine and industrial machinery hard at work; old street scenes with trams; docks and / or shipyards; ships of different shapes and sizes; steam trains; modern scenes of the regenerated Tyne, vintage scenes of the declining Tyne and a closed colliery. So, that’s not asking too much, then.
After some research online, I chose the locations that seemed best suited for my purposes. The first trip was to the National Coal Mining Museum, and my story about the visit is recounted here. The NCM would feature as a 1970’s closed colliery, and I also obtained footage of the old ‘Paddy Train’, the quaint narrow gauge railway that took the miners to their work. This was quite a bonus, especially as it was operating during my visit.
The bulk of filming was done over a manic three-day visit to the North East over the summer bank holiday, which I wrote about here. The locations used for filming were Beamish Living Museum, Ryhope Steam Engines Museum and the River Tyne between Hebburn and Tynemouth, plus Newcastle Quays.
Beamish really made the historical part of the film possible. It provided the authentic street scenes, trams, the lovely park and some of the coal mine shots – notably the all-important working pithead winding gear that would recreate the atmosphere of the industrial era. Everything at Beamish is genuine North East material; whole buildings were dismantled brick by brick and erected at the museum in order to recreate the atmosphere of days gone by. The shops and businesses are genuine North East companies, and even the featured trams are from Sunderland and Gateshead. All of this would add impact to the film and make it more believable.
When Beamish first opened in the 1970's, they advertised for suitable old relics to be exhibited. My mother donated an old vacuum cleaner that now resides in one of the miner’s cottages. That’s impressed you, eh? Thanks to Beamish and the NCM I now had plenty of exterior scenes to play with, but to really bring the industrial age to life I needed to get up close and personal with big old coal fired engines that used to power just about everything in industry and the home. I was after engines that took up entire buildings; steaming and pumping away amidst gleaming brass levers, polished steel, dials, handles, wheels, counterweights and pistons. How different to today’s machinery – anonymous grey cabinets full of flickering red and green diodes and clicking relays. These grey boxes do everything from powering the office coffee machine to unleashing nuclear war, and they just don’t have any character.
The big engines that I sought after looked and smelt like ‘proper kit.’ Nowadays in Britain, heavy industry is regarded as the machine that puts a dollop of butter on those pre-packed sandwiches on sale in Tesco. But real steam engines were almost a living entity – speak to the older generation who actually worked on them and you’ll understand this. Engines needed feeding with coal, then nurturing and cosseting to produce results and power. The men that fired and operated these beasts took great pride in them; hence spotless engine rooms full of gleaming brass and polished steelwork. Don’t get me wrong; working on them was not romantic or easy. It was hard work – bloody hard work, and not for the faint hearted. Shifts were long, incredibly hot, dirty and strenuous and conditions weren’t in the least bit comfortable. But nevertheless, many men who slaved away on them, whether they be steam trains, steamships or industry took great pride in getting the best out of their engines.
When things went wrong, these engines would blow up. It was messy, but at least you knew where the problem lay. What happens now when a machine goes wrong?
“Error Message 6142589. Port LFR2168 nodule unable to locate SMTP server 5469 LAN on proxy failed sender h=domainkey-signature:content-priority: bh=Ce08Lu7ZHp0Fb = pressing any key will delete entire hard drive. Not pressing any key within 30 seconds will delete entire hard drive. Press any key to continue."
Yes, we’ve all been there. No such gibberish back then; an error message was an almighty bang, and your head, arms and legs went through the roof, and not necessarily in that order.
To obtain footage of one such engine, I visited the Ryhope Engines Museum (story here) and was incredibly fortunate that it was during one of the handful of steaming days. I was able to film the boiler being fired up, and the huge pumping engine – that occupies three floors – in action. Ryhope Engines Museum itself is extremely friendly and welcoming, and I would thoroughly recommend a visit. The footage gained from the visit was invaluable, and would add a lot to the film.
The River Tyne was the most complex location to film at, as I needed to cover a large area in both geographical terms and timescale. Also, whereas my other locations were aimed at a clearly defined chapter of history, here I would require present day scenes, footage from the declining years when things were closing down and rotting away, plus some vintage clips to represent the industrial era. All of this, however, simply made the task more enjoyable and creative. The piers at Tynemouth, where the river enters the sea, were timeless and would suit any era. Newcastle Quays would represent the modern era, thanks to the fantastic regeneration programme in this area. Seeking out the 1970’s spots proved the most difficult, but in my travels I came across some abandoned quays and wooden jetties that have so far evaded the developers, who are steadily rebuilding everything. Film it while it’s there was my motto – leave it, and in six months time it could be yet another block of unaffordable apartments called ‘Cargo Ship View’ or ‘Derricks Haven’ or some such bollocks that developers think is necessary to remind homeowners that they are living next to a river, and thus justify the extra 25% purchase price. (It’s similar to the way that when they build houses on the site of old railway workshops; they come up with Gresley Close and Stephenson Mews. In years to come, when they put apartments up in Downing Street, I trust that it will be renamed ‘Lying Bastards Avenue’ in order to maintain the theme).
'Dock View', 'Big Cranes Drive' and 'Oil-Rig in My Garden Crescent' line the Tyne onthe 'Down By The Riverside Estate.' Aren't modern developers original?
I obtained some great shots along the Tyne, including the all-important opening scene of the cobblestone road and The Steamboat pub. That didn’t come from Beamish; no, it’s at South Shields in the beautifully restored area known as Custom House. Filming was done at daybreak; any later and the line of parked Mondeos and Vectras rather ruins the image. Plus you get knocked down while standing on the cobbles and that really spoils your day. As it is, it took half a dozen attempts to get that shot. I kept getting traffic going past at the top of the road, even at that unearthly hour, and when I moved the camera to the right to compensate, I discovered that I had a lovely view of a parked up Citroen Picasso. It was such a great shot that I persevered, and having seen the result, am pleased that I did. The Steamboat Pub is a lovely hostelry to frequent, and if you are going to follow my ‘Tyne Trail’, then call in for a much needed tipple during walkabout. If the owners of The Steamboat would like to thank me for the publicity with a pint or two - well, it would be rude to refuse. I knew I could work that in unobtrusively.
Finally, I wanted an impression of the railways that linked everything together, especially some industrial footage from a grimy, working yard. For this, the trusty Nene Valley Railway would provide the answer; I have written about my visit to obtain these scenes here, and in a less technical manner, here.
Production
Editing would require three distinct timeframes that would suit the three chapters of the story – present day, my childhood, and the ‘King Coal’ era. Present day would be in colour; the declining years in black and white, whilst the earlier era would need to be in black and white that would be aged to date it.
I now had masses amounts of film to play with. Editing had begun shortly after the visit to the Tyne, and I gradually joined up the various segments over umpteen cups of coffee and packs of Hobnobs. I don’t know how many times I listened to the song during this process – every edit required a run through to see if the changes had worked – but it’s a lot. Maybe I should go on ‘Britain’s Lamentably Short of Talent’; I’d be word perfect. The hard task of what to include and what to leave out got underway. Some clips were a natural choice; The Steamboat pub, the boy running for the tram, the Tyne Bridge and the cruise ship Boudicca passing the cannons at Tynemouth as she headed out to sea. Other scenes fitted the lyrics so well that they were included by default, even if they weren’t technically good shots. Editing took several weeks, as there were so many permutations to work with. Several good scenes were reluctantly cut for various reasons, and different techniques to represent the three distinct eras were tried. Some were great, some were awful; it was an absorbing exercise. Finally, I was pleased with what emerged. I had a film that closely matched the song lyrics, as well as the tempo of the music. It was a reasonably accurate impression of my memories, and contains a great deal of authentic material, even if it has been suitably doctored.
This is one of the best photos I've ever taken. The song is, to my mind, a fantastic piece of writing. If you aren’t tapping your foot to the beat by the time the song ends, then you must have no aptitude for music at all, and I can therefore only suggest that you audition for X-Factor.
A bit lost for words on this one. You performed magic when making a film about a floating white brick...I wondered how you would tackle the much more difficult task of making a film about something as evocative and atmosphere laden as a mighty industrial river and its' long lost glories. You picked the top music for it, too. It was a hell of an ask to expect anyone to rise to such a task. Yet you did it, and with a shipload of style and substance. The shots are lined up very cinematographically, with an insouciance that belies the difficulty of arranging the elements to behave, like the little boat that scoots under the bridge in the end sequence. I've gone on enough...it's great, Martin. Don't stop now.
ReplyDeleteIncidentally, it reminded me very strongly of my time on the Clyde, very much the same feel...and if you have time and energy have a look at "Seawards the Great Ships", a film made in the sixties about the Clyde shipyards.
Thanks for making and posting this lovely little film.
Many thanks for your comments. I had real passion to create this film because it's all so close to home and all that 'inside information' of where to go helped a lot. Filming is in progress for another planned release in October, if all goes well!
ReplyDeleteThank you so much for this film... It helps me better integrate all the atmosphere and sense of a very beautiful song.
ReplyDeleteWhat a fantastic piece of writing with so many emotional pieces that were pulling at my heart strings. I'm proud to say in the Summer just past Myself, Wife and Daughter spend 5 days researching the Newcastle and Gateshead Area's. My Mum was born and brought up in Pelaw , where We were fortunate that the House she was born in was still standing. My great grandfather owned some butchers shops and pig farms in the area. Unfortunately after the WW II the Family went it's separate ways and my Grandad , who was a French Polisher in the Neptune Yard up sticks and moved lock, stock and barrow to Perth in Scotland. Until his dying day He never returned 'home' to the North East(Too stubborn sadly) and He was indeed a follower of the Makems. I have been down many many times to Newcastle to watch the 'Toon' (Sorry) but have never investigated My Family's past. It's was a real pleasure to see Newcastle and the Quayside etc in a different light so to speak. Thankfully mainly thanks to a wrong command from the satnav, We ended up on the Sea Front at South Shields on a beautiful summers evening. It was stunning and friendly place with loads of Lads n Lasses fishing of the Pier and breakwater watching ships enter and leave the Tyne and would like to hae anither Peasse Pudding and Ham Stottie.
ReplyDeleteI Thank You for such a wonderful written piece.