Report from the SEX FACTORY - PART ONE

Report from the SEX FACTORY

PART ONE

Preamble

Lindsay Anderson was born in colonial India. After an education at an English public school he did classics at Oxford. After accolades as critic, in documentaries, an Oscar and director at the Royal Court he focused on cinema and the Palme D’Or at Cannes. In effect the ageless wunderkind.

After a screening of my documentary on apartheid SA, Lindsay decided to orchestrate my career. A father figure was birthed.

My volatility with his abrasive mien, made a frightening combination.  Another editing assistant remarked − Lindsay was quite sane except when he’s with you…!!!

In 1967 I worked on a TV series The Prisoner. Lindsay sneered at my writer’s credit. He wanted me to edit a BFI film on rebellion against apartheid by first time director Stephen Frears. The Burning won awards and The Prisoner became a cult − as my iron god with clay feet had predicted. Lindsay wanted me to cut commercials. I wasn’t up for advertising.

You might become a better person – Lindsay reflected – but you won’t become a better editor. I went onto If.... as assistant editor.

Over the years we argued nonstop. He slugged me. He kicked my broken leg. We stopped seeing each other and we got back together which became the pattern.

In the winter of 1974/75 features were in a slump. I got offered a porn film in Holland. I needed money to buy comics which put me in an awful quandary.

I expected Lindsay to applaud my refusal. He did not − it’s a chance to have something real and away from trashy comics. Read trivia and you’ll produce trivia. The clincher landed below the belt – are you frightened of sex? That touched a raw nerve.

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