ABSTRACT
LET ME INTRODUCE MYSELF. I am an Amish farm boy with absolutely no training in film. In fact, as a child and teenager I was forbidden to watch movies. Then I got hooked. I snuck off to the cinema and saw Lassie Comes Home. I had absolutely no idea that a movie house existed, and no knowledge of the technology that made moving pictures possible. I could have landed on the moon, instead of that soiled, worn, red velvet seat with springs edging out of it. As soon as I could, I left the farm, and moved to London where I got a job sweeping floors and building sets at the BBC in its glory years: the final years of Monty Python, and The Old Grey Whistle Test were my playground – and an ideal playground it was. I suppose I saw every star of the time, from Mohammed Ali coming in for an interview, to British and American pop stars sneaking in the gates past the hordes of screaming fans, to politicians trying to bolster their ratings.
