Elysabeth Williams is an American writer with a passion for a genre many of us know little about. We asked her to tell us a bit more about Steampunk and her latest novel:

You’ve probably heard the term at least in passing at some point. It’s not really a secret anymore, now that it is climbing like wildfire in the genre of speculative and science fiction, or fantasy movies, music and fashion. It’s exploding into mainstream.

So what is it?

Scientific romances and fantasy books written in the 19th century by the likes of Jules Verne, H.G. Wells and Mary Shelley influenced its style. In the present, it is a multimedia subculture, expanding to include everything from books to video games. Games like Bioshock, the movie Golden Compass, and League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, and even the 1960’s American television show The Wild Wild West depict Steampunk.

It is the fresh, romanticized vision of technology by way of making it retro. It’s also described as embodying a time and place. The time and place, usually, but not limited to, the Victorian or Edwardian age from the 1880s to the early 1900s, otherwise known as the Industrial Age or the Age of Steam, when new technology was exploding at a rapid rate.

Steampunk is adventuring and romancing with high tech inventions that wouldn’t have normally been around in that time period. Practically (or literally), time traveling into the past, yet somehow managing to keep modern technology intact too, such as computers run by clockwork cogs and wheels, steam powered rocket ships, zeppelins, anything the imagination can come up with that would make it somehow fit in a seemingly wrong era.

I find writing Steampunk exciting and fresh, due to the fact that only my own imagination limits me to what can happen. The whole genre is wide open in terms of what the writer can make up to fit into their alternate history, or alternate reality. I love the romance depicted in that era, mixed in with the ability to make it fit into what I think might have happened behind those sly smiles. The generally rigid rules and high expectations of what Society’s ladies and gentlemen should have been doing are cast aside for the chance of excitement and adventure.

My novel, Electrifying Exploits of the English Three, takes full advantage of the opportunity to encompass romance and adventuring in a Steampunk setting. Three women, hired by a mysterious Colonel in India by the name of Cuthbert, are trained from a very young age to undertake covert work for him. They will do their part to bring justice to those who need it by using all means of available technology given to them by their employer. Using computers and the equivalent of blue tooth earpieces, the group has experienced everything from capturing art thieves to their latest adventure – attempting to stop a Countess and her army of seemingly High Society men from blowing up the recently erected Tower Bridge.

The women plan to bring down the coup alone, but when they entangle their lives with three men who they think aren’t involved with the Colonel, things get trickier and they realize they need help from the outside. A fast paced and equally quick-witted tale of electricity powered ray guns, brass robots, computers run by cogs and odd-placed romance keeps the story going.

I loved writing this story, and will definitely be writing another one like it, soon.

Written by Elysabeth Williams

If you’d like to know more about Elysabeth’s work, her latest projects or more about Electrifying Exploits of the English Three please visit her website http://www.elysabethwilliams.com/ for all the latest news or to follow her on Facebook and Twitter.

I have a confession to make; I love films now as much as I did when I was eight years old.

Vanity prevents me from saying how long ago that was but it is no exaggeration to say that film is my oldest love. My childhood memories are dominated by the films I watched. At the age of four my father, himself a great film buff, took me to see On Her Majesty’s Secret Service, with George Lazenby as 007 (there, now you know how old I am).

When I was seven I persuaded my poor mother to take me to see the Godfather. The startled cinema manager took her to one side and calmly explained why he could not allow a seven year old boy to watch such a film. She politely informed the manager that I was, in fact, reading the book upon which the film was based. Strangely, this did nothing to change the by now, slightly disturbed manager’s mind. Turned away, I had to settle for a water pistol and a bag of sweets as consolation. Quite what the cinema manager thought of parents who happily allowed their seven year old son to read Mario Puzo’s violent mafia epic, and then tried to gain him admission to the equally violent, though admittedly brilliant screen adaptation, still makes me smile.

My point? Forty years later, as an actor and screenwriter, my love and enthusiasm for film has never faded. What has happened, however, is the filmmaking process itself has become a by-word for fear and laziness. Fear to make anything that won’t fill multiplexes and generate billions in merchandise revenue, laziness in the assumption that many filmmakers think they know what the public want to see. They don’t. They never have. From Hollywood to Bollywood, from Shepperton to Shanghai, many filmmakers set out to make films they think the public will kill to see. The end product often fails miserably.

Which is not to say that filmmakers have no taste. The opposite, in fact, is true. Most filmmakers have excellent taste. They also, for the most part, have talent, vision, passion and desire. They need all of these qualities if they are to spend their entire lives in a cruelly unforgiving business. And film is a business, but, sadly, the business seems to spend more and more of it’s time and money giving itself a colonoscopy. The film industry in the UK and the US takes itself very, very seriously. Nothing wrong with that, I hasten to add; a focused mind can produce fantastic work.

But when the focus is on demographics, test screenings, market research and, God help us, star appeal, then the result is a deluge of tired, dull, clichéd, over-long, effects-driven, barely literate product placement, masquerading as entertainment. The film business on both sides of the Atlantic is crippled by fear.

We know that the business has always produced more than its fair share of poor films (no examples from me; my Howard the Duck might be someone else’s Citizen Kane) but there was a feeling that the business was run by people who genuinely loved the art (yes, I said art) of filmmaking. Can we honestly say that now?

I would love to be wrong about this but the evidence suggests otherwise. Here is a little experiment you might want to try; pick a major studio, distributor, group of producers and track their output for a couple of years. Observe, if you will, how their films seem to be driven by a desperate need to capture the biggest audience share possible. Nothing wrong with that, right? The painful part is watching how all these individuals, presumably bright, intelligent, powerful movers and shakers in the film industry shake their collective heads in bewilderment as another of their over-priced, over- long, regurgitations fails at the box office.

Why do they fail so often?

Fear.

They listened to marketing.  They listened to test screening results. They listened to the demographic research and then they went and made something they thought wouldn’t offend or antagonise anyone. Try to please everyone and you please no one; just because it’s a cliché doesn’t mean it isn’t true.

There is an alternative. It’s not revolutionary. It’s not quantum physics. And, for producers out there, it’s not expensive. Why not take all those massive resources at your disposal and devote them to finding good scripts. When I say finding good scripts, I mean doing a lot more than hanging out in Soho house (London) or the Ivy (L.A.) listening to someone who “knows Jude really well” (sorry, Jude) and who has a friend who wrote a “really brilliant vampire/gangster/horror/alien/male bonding script” (delete as applicable).

The film business desperately needs to stop taking itself so seriously. It needs to be a thousand times more active in seeking out scripts and filmmakers. It needs to wake up to the fact that the internet is a big happy beast which will leave them all trailing in its wake, stumbling around trying to find the least lazy distributors while filmmakers by-pass all of them by producing and distributing their own product.

Most of all, the film business, especially in the UK, needs to face the truth; what you most desire is out there – scripts and filmmakers who can produce something intelligent and entertaining, something which can be made with minimal investment for maximum return.

You just need to stop being afraid.

For now, the business of film is in the hands of accountants. I respectfully suggest this is why much of the product is so poor. Accountants are noted for many things but bravery is not one of them (with the notable exception of the guy in the Untouchables).

Good luck, have faith and be brave.

With roles in Shooters, Troy and Guy Ritchie’s Revolver, Louis knows the film business. Of course, a screenwriting credit for Shooters means his talent as a writer is also a significant string to the Dempsey bow.

And it’s writing that Louis has been concentrating on. With a couple more brilliant screenplays in the bag, he’s not only writing a third, but he’s also a regular contributor for isca media and the isca sites.

Photo: Luke James

Are we too hung up on semantics? Is it possible to have a meaningful discussion when our interpretation of language is so diverse?

Journalist and psychologist, Alex Radway gives her thoughts. What are yours?

“For the perfect friendship which I am talking about is indivisible: each gives himself so entirely to his friend that he has nothing left to share with another.” Michel De Montaigne [1580]

Impassioned or pathological? It resonates with the same unnerving ambivalence of Sting’s “I’ll Be Watching You”; a little too Single White Female/Cable Guy for my liking.

Easier on the senses are the words of Renaissance man and renowned poet (allegedly, a close 3^rd in the popularity stakes behind Shakespeare and Lao-Tzu) Khalil Gibran: “let there be no purpose in friendship save the deepening of the spirit”. Clear, sincere and generous, his words define friendship only by what it is not. Beyond this boundary is the amorphous and mercurial world of the relationship.

Relationships

Before we go any further, I put my hands up to having relationship issues. Don’t expect juicy self-revelation and soul-searching. Said issues are neurotically semantic rather than darkly psychodynamic.

Quite simply, I’m a little possessive/protective. My relationship schema is not just a vague conceptual peg upon which to hang all and sundry. It’s a shrine to all I hold dear. The word has an implicit, powerful undercurrent of intimacy; not necessarily sexual, but sacred. Something ignited by chemistry or circumstance. An entity often forged in the flames of conflict and soothed by an elastic compassion that absorbs difference and transcends obstacles. It’s a living work of art

In the dictionary of my life, a relationship is the delicate dance of cumulative interactions. We disclose pieces of ourselves and hold a little of each other in the synergistic creation of individual and shared rhythms. Comparatively, cursory conversations with grocers and bank clerks are pedestrian necessities; different page; an entirely different book in fact.

Admittedly, my interpretation resonates at a friendship-like frequency. But through phonetic similarity, semantic gymnastics and random events, friendship is filed-away in my mind under F for fluffy. It’s written in daisies with the consistency of whipped, strawberry mousse. Friendships are nice; nice in that insipid “yeah, your hair looks nice” kind of way.

Comparatively, relationships are bitter-chocolate, black forest gateaux laced with liquor and saved for special guests. Is that selfish, exclusive or just a realistic survival strategy?

Agape is an aspirational ideal, but a practical minefield. Attitude wise, I’m already there. And, had I enough, I’d willingly share my tasty cake with the world, but I don’t. In more prosaic terms – I/we lack the psychological resources to entangle with too many. Monsieur De Montaigne’s smothering singularity is equally unsustainable. So that brings me to the subject of numbers.

How many friends have I really got?

According to my online presence I am one popular gal with thousands of friends and ‘followers’. Thankfully, my brain is bigger than my ego and my skin’s thick enough to take the truth.

Many of us are simply strangers who exchange information, not emotion. But as trust and reciprocity (not physical contact) are the bedrock of meaningful connections, a heart-warming proportion are the real-deal; virtual only in a technological sense.

Those I have online relationships with notice my absence. They intuit discord or distress in tone and syntax across oceans and continents. They can read between the lines even where there are only 140 characters.

Robin Dunbar, Professor of Evolutionary Anthropology at the University of Oxford reckons 150 is the maximum number of relationships that the mind can juggle before melt-down and mix-ups kick-in. ‘Dunbar’s number’, as it is unsurprisingly known, relates to brain size (the more relationships, the more grey-matter required to process the complexity). Apparently, it holds true for apes and all humans groupings from Neolithic communities to Roman military units and even, wait for it, the social media generation.

My relationships are the reasons, seasons, players and backdrop of my universe. I shudder at the careless brandishing about of the word. That arrangement of letters is imbued with personal history and depth. I’m uneasy with confusing the precious with the perfunctory and professional.

As a benchmark and illustration, look how love and hate have been diluted through common use. Words that encapsulate profound forces reduced to conveying flippant opinions regarding bed linen and chat-show hosts.

As I said, personal neurosis. I know the words are not the thing itself; the map is not the territory. And also, context is key.

Context, change and survival

Everyday we casually swap lexicons and jargon, like suites for jeans, as we slide between spheres. We are social chameleons with colloquialisms to match our colours.

Relationship means one thing at work and something entirely different at home or on the therapist’s couch. Relationship is a nebulous catch-all, snagging everything from basic correlation to lifetime bonds. And now technology is extending its reach, adding breadth and depth, splicing new dimensions onto existing possibilities.

Context is essential to distill solid understanding from fluid and multiple meanings, especially in a world where societal shifts are gaining pace.

When cultural perspectives (and tectonics) shift, new boundaries are set. Thinking and language automatically morphs to reflect contemporary reality. Nothing hinders dynamic development more than the anachronistic shackles of yesteryear; no matter how familiar or romantic.

In fact a significant element underpinning the success and survival of the English language itself is its fluidity, its tendency to absorb and its almost viral ability to adapt and evolve. Keep up or die out; that’s the rule, right? And it apparently covers genes and memes alike.

Context and subjectivity rule. And I need to lighten-up or get left behind.

Language and relationships are and always should be mercurial; ours to interpret and define – open source.

We write about isca media’s first production for 2010 and why we believe short films are an absolute must for any new production company, screenwriter or director.

We’ve seen a lot from behind the camera. Over the last twenty years We’ve been on the set of almost 300 films. From three minute shorts to high budget features. Sure, it was from a marketing perspective and the relative safety of a stills camera; but you don’t spend that much time watching, listening and learning, without developing a significant skills and knowledge base of your own.

We’ve seen directors have break-downs, screenwriters lose the plot (literally), and actors throw tantrums, bottles and their careers out of the window. We’ve worked with cast and crews where the chemistry has been awesome and others where most of us wished we were lemmings.

Back in the 90s a couple of us had the fortune of reading a myriad scripts for three-minute shorts, as part of a team of one of the UK’s funding bodies (that’s another story). We’re firm believers that every screenwriter should be writing shorts, daily, weekly, monthly, forever. They focus the mind and are, essentially, the best way of gaining valuable filmmaking experience.

Watch one of the great commercials; say, a Guinness or a Stella Artois and you’re watching superb short filmmaking. Heck! You’re watching superb filmmaking. It’s high impact, brilliantly photographed, amazingly scripted and edited footage. Watch them. Analyse them. Learn from them. Imagine writing one, directing one, filming, editing, and lighting. Imagine, above all, the words on the paper. What would they look like? How would they read, sound, feel? There’s almost no dialogue. Too much dialogue, in our opinion, kills the raison d’être of making a short film. Tell the story with the camera.

If you’re a writer, director or cinematographer, then they’re the best calling cards you can have. And with the web, these days, there’s no excuse for not getting your film seen.

The first isca media film we are producing is a short – Kinderspiel. Its run-time will be approximately three-minutes. It’s taken 18 months of discussion and detailed planning to get it off the ground. Nothing is left to chance. It’s been as meticulously planned as a blockbuster – right down to the marketing and ‘reasons’ for making it.

Sure, we could have made something earlier. But it wouldn’t have been the film we’d wanted, envisaged. The art direction is vitally important, the choice of Director of Photography (DoP) is the make or break decision.

And no, we’re not going to talk in detail about the subject. It would kill any impact the film will have when you see it for the first time. It’s a very serious and dark piece, emotionally. But over the next few weeks and months, we’ll be writing and posting our experience on the isca media website. It’ll be our first film as isca media and it gives us and the rest of the creative family a chance to communicate why we’re doing it the way we are. Why ethical filmmaking is important. Why we can’t separate any one process or skills base and how we’re all connected in some way and why, ultimately, it’s one of the most amazing things to be doing.

Carpe diem.

Photo: iscaphotography

Foxwell Films and isca Film working together in 2010

We’ll be working with some more great film talent in 2010. We’re delighted to welcome Will Foxwell to the team, who’ll be bringing not only some cool film techniques but a wealth of experience.

Just take a look at these credits on IMDb

Born in Exeter, raised in Cheriton Fitzpaine and Brampford Speke – Will graduated in 2002 with a Degree in Professional Broadcasting from Ravensbourne College of Design & Communication

Almost 7 years working in the TV, Film and digital content industry, 3 years at a Film/TV post production house where he gained numerous film credits. 2 years at Channel 4 where Will created continuity graphics and edited promotional video clip sequences across Channel 4, E4, Film4 and More4.

He’s currently working as in-house filmmaker at Redwood, a print and online content agency where he produces branded video content across a range of clients, most notably Royal Mail, BT, Virgin media, NSPCC and Boots.

Will Foxwell is perfect for the kind of projects we’ll be taking on in the coming months. A multi-skilled filmmaker and someone who knows all elements of production – shooting, directing, editing, creation of graphics and titles as well as final delivery and encoding. If that isn’t enough, he can also oversee and work closely with external suppliers (voiceover, music production, lighting).

Here’s a sample of Will’s work. You can see more by clicking the Foxwell Films logo above.

Short viral film for Fabric Magazine.
Interviewer: Steven Short
Filmed, edited and directed by William Foxwell for Redwood
Shot on Sony FX1E, edited/graded in FCP.
(C)2008 Redwood Publishing Ltd

A lot of things have happened to iwalkdevon and the editorial team in a short space of time. The most notable events have been the growth of isca media.

The success of iwalkdevon and its readership increase from a few hundred back in July 2009 at launch to over 250,000 unique page views per month is down to the amazing support we’ve had from our readers and contributors since our first tentative steps.

This is due to the fact that we’ve not only a world-wide following – but that the feedback we receive gives us the strength and determination to make the site the best we possibly can. We wanted to start it off and grow the concept and ethos slowly, so that it has a healthy future as part of a collection of isca media opportunities and publications online.

And it’s been your feedback and support that’s driven the change, evolution and development. We’ve listened and adapted accordingly.

So, the first change has been to incorporate iwalkdevon into a new format and a new site structure.

Welcome to www.iwalkiwrite.com

The site better reflects the international appeal of the walking and writing lifestyle content we’ve been publishing. It’s more inclusive and fits better into our basic philosophy of global family. The interactivity on the site has improved. We’ve broken down geographical boundaries, not just as an online concept, but in real terms.

Check out the Google Maps on strategic posts, the high-end photography and standard of contributor, content and presentation. We want you to enjoy reading a specific post or to just surf around and cherry-pick something that catches your fancy.

It’s ultimately a lifestyle site. It will continue to grow and evolve. We will be able to invest via the valuable input from our developing strategic partners, sponsors and advertisers – whilst at the same time, never compromising our editorial policies or the overall look and feel of iwalk iwrite.

We’re also developing franchising opportunities for other, closely related projects and sites.

We’ll be welcoming further key business sponsors and advertisers – real partnerships that focus on sustainability and cooperation. .

Things can be very different. We’re all connected in some way. That’s why iwalk iwrite is an important hub for all peoples, countries and cultures.

It’s not good enough to just go and see the film, writes Luke James

A day doesn’t go by without a new movie review being written and posted on the internet; either from a lone blogger or an established critic for one of the world’s media publications. Everyone, it seems, has an opinion about the latest film.

The journalistic fallout from the Golden Globe awards has been suffocating. I had to stop reading re-hash after re-hash of the same plagiarised, inert ramblings on one blog after another for fear of a boredom-induced coma. If this sounds harsh, consider this; many people set up a blog and start writing in the hope of being noticed or to breakthrough as a professional writer. This is commendable and yes, it does work. However, it’s important to be noticed for all the right reasons.

Film reviewers should really know a bit about filmmaking. They should really do a bit of research too. I’ve lost count of the number of reviews of Avatar. Quite frankly, it seems many reviewers hadn’t even bothered to watch any previous film directed by Mr Cameron. A rookie mistake it would seem, because then the articles are littered with over-used ‘brilliants’ or ‘amazings’. What do these words actually mean within the context of the film? Why would I want to go and see something solely described as ‘outstanding’? The words mean nothing without context.

For example: ‘Avatar is simply breathtaking!’

Is it? Is it really? Well I will be sure to take my inhaler then as I wouldn’t want it to bring on a touch of asthma.

If the ‘critic’ had written ‘Cameron’s use of 3D graphics resulted in images that sucked me into the dramatic narrative the way liposuction sucks away the overindulgence of years of gluttony’, I’d be impressed. Not because I agree or disagree, but because it’s an original and thought-provoking statement.

A critic could go on and write a comparison, referencing early Cameron movies to contemporary Cameron offerings. Maybe, just maybe, if they hadn’t been too dazzled by the light-pen they’re using, they could have looked for a quote from the director, cast, crew – for goodness sake, I’d settle for one from the Dolly Grip. After all, that would, at least, make the piece stand out.

Is this asking too much? No, it isn’t. Not if the writer wants to get noticed. Write something different. I’ve read a few, very good critiques from writers; but they’ve nearly always taken a contrary standpoint or written using a unique style.

Here are my tips for writing a film any review. This’ll be the minimum an editor would want from you. If you want to be paid for your writing; then you really will have to do your homework.

1. Whatever subject you are reviewing, establish what sort of audience it is trying to reach. This will ensure you assess it against fair criteria, rather than just judging it for not achieving an objective which was never intended.
2. Whatever you are writing about there is a minimum amount of essential fact which must be included e.g. the film title; writer and director (never assume or presume the reader knows this, no matter how topical or popular).
3. Additional facts can be interesting and may be necessary to put the work in context e.g. how does it relate to previous films from the same director?
4. Avoid clichés like the plague! Seriously, slovenly adjectives make reviews dull and lifeless. Find synonyms for the following: stunning, entertaining, breathtaking, spectacular etc. A child may say a particular performance was “brilliant”, but an adult writer should use more imaginative and descriptive words. Use a thesaurus and dictionary. It’s lazy writing otherwise.
5. Support your view. A critic of films, for example, must have seen many films. Contrast and compare so your reader can relate the new production to something they have previously seen.

Finally, you need to include enough detail about the storyline to give readers a flavour of what to expect, without giving away too much. Your analysis of what works (or doesn’t work) and why, need to be explained. Provide hard evidence to support your subjectivity.

And remember; the word critic comes from a Greek word to judge. A critic is a person who analyses the evidence; sums up what they think is good as well as what they feel is not so good. Only then should they come to a verdict and make a final judgment.

Photo by Luke James

In 2010 isca photography be working with the very talented Lyndy Ewings to provide a series of commercial packages and services in the United Kingdom. The partnership promises to be an exciting one. They’ll initially be shooting at selected locations throughout the South West of England.

Lyndy’s innovative and exciting style in conjuncton with isca’s very filmic photography and 20 years of photographing actors and models such as Nell McAndrew and Martine McCutcheon mean the results promise to be eye-catching and creative.

Hair by Lyndy Ewings

Lyndy’s 12 years experience in award-winning busy salons will prove invaluable. Her passion for creating not just beautiful hair, but exciting styles that are out of the norm, will fit perfectly with isca’s passion for location photography that draws heavily on years of working on major film sets.

We’ll bring more details of other projects, products and services early in the New Year. In the meantime, be sure to check out www.iscaphotography.com and browse through the personalities and genres as well as the Mayfair Portfolio packages available from 4th January 2010.

We caught up with Louis Dempsey over a pint of Guinness in his local pub. We always enjoy a sip of the dark stuff whilst chatting with an Irishman; it adds authenticity. And this particular Irishman; being an actor, writer and keen gardener (he made us add the last bit) meant we had plenty to talk about.

“Gardening’s a great way of keeping things in perspective” he remarks after we’ve settled at a quiet table. There’s a twinkle in his eye as he says it.

This is an actor who’s starred in the West End (Stones In His Pockets), wrote (and performed in) the feature film Shooters (Universal Studios) and played alongside a host of stars in Troy and Revolver.

What we really want to do is ask about his fight scene with Brad Pitt, or what Guy Ritchie’s like as a director, or Liverpool’s form in the Champion’s league, but Louis’s here to talk about filmmaking, screenwriting and production.

“I have no illusions about the film industry” he adds, after taking a long sip of Guinness. “That’s the main reason I found isca media so attractive. isca media is a radical concept; a media company set up to enable artists from all walks of life to create real and exciting work.”

Dempsey is animated – and it’s impressive that not only is his profession still an important subject; but there’s real passion behind the words and gesticulations.

“In this country, at this present time, film and arts finance is controlled by the same clique of London-based career bureaucrats who know how to get on the right committees and get funding for star vehicles. This, of course, gives them a higher profile and the circle of self interest remains unbroken.”

“isca media are offering a workable and realistic alternative to the usual ‘let’s put on a show right here’ naivety that so often masquerades as a possible antidote to artistic frustration. They have also set up their own not-for-profit organisation, Making Me, with the specific task of integrating with the commercial business model and thereby including artists who are routinely ignored by so called funding bodies. isca’s not interested in whining about how bad things are in the artistic community – they’re interested in holding up a mirror to the hypocrisy, waste (artistic and financial) and commercial stupidity that seems endemic within the arts-funding bodies, both in the UK and beyond.”

We sit back and let this passion unfold in front of us. It’s both refreshing and emotional. But as importantly – an exact fit with our philosophy.

“When I saw isca used the phrase ‘ethical filmmaking’” continues Dempsey, “I just had to know more. What I discovered was a real plan to change the way films are made, produced, financed and distributed. A real plan to give artists financial independence. I discovered more people, like myself, who have been in the business long enough to know that it simply isn’t working. isca media is offering a real alternative. I’m in.”

Photo: Courtesy of iscaphotography