Untermenschenblog 1

2016 was rubbish, apparently, but it did give rise to the chance to make this and show it in a cinema for the people who are in it:
...a ridiculous idea executed in a ridiculous manner with a ridiculous outcome...

...which cost £17.50 to bring to the screen.
You could argue that this is the kind of thing you do when you're 22.

Unfortunately though back then, there wasn't the group of people around with the range of talent, commitment and sense of humour sufficient nor, in 2001, was the necessary technology so accessible and abundant.
Thanks to friends Tom Taylor and Richard Mills and the activity of sailing, which I feel the need to stress, "is regarded by many as the amusement of the rich man … is nothing of the sort, and indeed … may be said that the richer one is, the less enjoyment one gets out of it"
I now feel like I have the priceless luxury of a group of women and men close by who seem keen to work together to make even the most outlandish ideas into reality.
is a feature film to be shot in the style of German silent expressionist films of the 1920s:
The themes are based on The Rise and Fall of the City of Mahoganny by Brecht & Weill—a satirical opera about a decadent society on the brink of collapse, stuck psychically somewhere between Germany and America—kind of like where the UK is now from a certain perspective.
The costumes and the colour palette are to be inspired by Goya's Caprichos and late Renaissance Spanish stuff like Jose de Ribera.
In the ethnically homogenous Sudetenland of the 1930s, there's only mann and Supermann, and we like sheep have gone astray.
The story is intended to be a daft take on the modern myth of Superman and the interminable churn of increasingly inane superhero films, but also to make real a stupid pub joke about a half-sheep, half-boy creature with alopeceia called 'Lammladd' who may or may not be The Lamb of God.
Driven by the abundance of musicians in the group, the attraction of having copyright on the music ourselves as well as on the images, and simply as a creative exercise, we're going to do the music first, then shoot the film later.
In films, the images and the music are so intertwined that it is almost impossible to separate them from each other after the fact.

If you take the zither out of The Third Man or the French horn out of Superman you're left with much less than 50% of the fun, or vice versa.
Which came first, Also sprach Zarathustra or a man in an unconvincing monkey suit chucking a bone at the stars?

Does it matter?
Musicians do this kind of thing all the time – make cinematic music for a film that doesn't exist.

Listen to just a bit of this and then tell me you wouldn't want to see the film if someone had made it...
I'm happy to be proved wrong in this but I'm not sure this has been done very often in narrative cinema (for very obvious practical reasons). Nick Cave for Lawless maybe?

What would happen if you went ahead and did the music and then shot the images inspired by the music?

What if you go ahead and make the film of the music?
Story is free, and so is enthusiasm, so on the basis of being in the ideal position of not having to convince anyone to convince us not to do it, or to give us any money whatsoever, let's flipping well see if we can find out, shall we?
*E.F.Knight from an essay for The Badminton Library of Sport and Pastimes, 1894

-Photos by James Gilleen, Ville Sohn & Alice Garland