Right now you're the only thing that's making any sense

Our Director Writes:

Diary of a Mature Student: Year Two, T-Five Weeks

Technically, the university is open for business students again from today, although I'm not sure if you could tell - the only students who I've met on campus are haggard, worried-looking ones with a burning need to submit their dissertation on time. Rarely have I seen any people looking more hunted than these, waiting on the library opening hours to print and the hurrying to the media shop to bind the culmination of their work.

Looking at them, I'm thinking; this is probably me in another two years' time. I like to think that I'll have finished the dissertation before the deadline, had it proofread, got it bound and submitted it a day or two early. I like to think this, but I know it's patently not true; I'm a creature of deadlines, and always have been. I do what is arguably my 'best work' - quotes intentional - right up against the final reckoning.

This is why the summer break - the best part of five months - rankles and annoys. Don't get me wrong - I'm sure the Young People Of Today appreciate a six months on / six months off structure, because otherwise, bless them, they might start to feel a little stressed.

But when you're faced with five months with literally nothing to do, tempers can get a little frayed.

I want to be working. I don't mind if it's a bad little part-time job that pays just enough to keep my car running and pay for food. But there's nothing going out there at the moment, and it's maddening. I would understand the long break more if there was anything to do academically, but the courses that involve actually watching films don't seem to publish their viewing schedules - otherwise those pesky students might take the initiative and study the films before term starts, rather than turn up to the scheduled screenings that suit nobody other than the ones living within fifteen minutes' walk of the campus.

... Granted, this means everyone other than mature students, and even then some of them live near campus, but for the commuters... Eesh.

So this has been a Long Hot Summer, at the end of which the garage will be half as full and - shock horror - painted, the loft will be nearly empty and possibly even panelled, and, strangely, my attention span seems to be returning to the point where next year may be just that little bit less ADHD.

Let's unpack that last comment. If you know me, then you know I've always been hyperactive. A good friend summarised it in basic terms where I'm fine as long as someone gives me a metaphorical slap to bring me down to earth. So now imagine how five months without too much to do might impact psychologically.

Here's the weird thing, though - immediately upon starting a course on Film, my ability to watch an entire film began to suffer. This isn't new - previously, though, it had been related to music, in that occasionally I found it difficult to listen to a whole track on a CD while travelling, a source of no little irritation for some friends. But to be unable to comfortably sit through a film was a new one; I'd find myself wandering off, reading, playing games on my mobile phone, and occasionally fast-forwarding through to near the end, the equivalent of reading the last chapter of a book and just as asinine.

Over the last few weeks, however, this seems to have abated, to the point where I actually started actively wanting to see films again. A case in point; Centurion, which I actively went out and sought over the weekend for no discernible reason other than a respect for Neil Marshall. 

Let's reminisce for a moment. A few years ago, upon graduating from the first merry-go-round, I moved home with a degree I had struggled through and a nascent love for film that I had no idea how to practically use or train. A little lost, and a little confused, I ended up buying Dog Soldiers on DVD for no real reason other than the cover intrigued me and the premise was solid; Squaddies versus werewolves - what more do you want?

Bear in mind that at that point I hadn't seen any of the Evil Dead films - I know, philistine, right? - or any low-budget horror films in particular that I can remember. Films for me at the time were foreign cinema (don't ask) or the big-budget hollywood films that played at the mainstream cinemas, including the early experiments into second-wave superhero films by Marvel (Hulk, and Daredevil, both of which I saw in the cinema at the time, although please, please see the Directors' Cut of Daredevil if you've only seen the original release... There's an entire subplot with Coolio that was cut from the theatrical release, and less cheesy fireside lovemaking...)

Anyway. So Dog Soldiers was a bit of a revelation, in terms of film. By definition, all British films are low-budget when compared with Hollywood productions, but this film did a lot with a little to the point where instead of CGI, the werewolves looked better as practical costumes and well-edited set-pieces. This was the first true application I saw of Robert Rodriguez's 'Money Hose' theory, in that if you have a huge budget, you just turn the hose on any problems and wash them away with money, but if you have no money, you have to solve the problems creatively rather than financially.

Like I say, kind of a revelation.

If this is rambling, it's because I want to salvage something positive from a long summer of nothing but domesticity and applying for part-time work only to be knocked back in favour of under-16s who can be paid 80p less per hour on the minimum wage. Finally, I have an attention span where previously there was just ADHD.

Look out, world.