Ten years ago, while working on The South Bank Show, Melvyn Bragg and I had a heated discussion on the pros and cons of film censorship. Broadly speaking, Melvyn was against it, while I, much to his surprise, was absolutely for it. He then dared me to write a script that I thought should be banned. I accepted the challenge and a month or so later sent him a short subject entitled A Kitten for Hitler. “Ken,” he said, “if ever you make this film and it is shown, you will be lynched.”
This story concerns Lenny, a naive little Jewish boy from Brooklyn, who reasons that Hitler wouldn’t be so bad if he were treated like a human being instead of a monster. Accordingly, he risks life and limb to cross war-torn Europe to deliver to “Uncle Adolf” a placatory Christmas present in the shape of a cuddly kitten. Moved to tears, the Führer hands him a swastika-shaped bagel from the Christmas tree, whereupon Lenny pulls up his shirt, revealing an almost identical birthmark.
What happens next I leave to your imagination – likewise the moving payoff.
But what gave Melvyn the shudders? People do not make jokes about the Holocaust. It’s just not funny.
This was my challenge: to create a harrowing event with ironic moral overtones, in a movie that’s more Springtime for Hitler than Schindler’s List, and do it with production value and emotional resonance. I may not be Jewish, but, God knows, I’m on the side of the Jews. If I’m crucified, I hope it won’t be because I’ve alienated masses of good people.
Well, as I said, that was ten years ago, and I’m still alive and kicking, but whether that will still be the case in November only the Lord knows. Because, by the end of October, the film will be seen the world over, on the Comedybox website.
Whenever I have been asked over the past decade what I’m up to (apart from the latest new feature film, which generally falls through), I invariably mention the Kitten movie, for which I have sought finance. But the moneymen have either laughed at my pitch or got up and walked away.
Until, that is, last month, when Emma Millions – a talented scriptwriter and underground movie buff – introduced me to Dan Schreiber, the boss of Comedybox Channel, a company dedicated to the outrageous, the comic, the curious and the bizarre.
We’ve made the film for £10,000. Underground film-makers have often worked successfully for far less. What one lacks in cash one makes up for in goodwill, and you’d be surprised just how much there is of that about. For starters, Emma found the cheapest studio in town, up a blind alley in the depths of Shoreditch. Then we had to find our cast – Hitler, Eva Braun, two SS men, President Truman and Lenny. Rachel, his mum, was the first to be cast and was, of course, played by Elize, my wife.
Next we had the Hitler auditions. Most of the actors brought their own uniform, and not only did we get a fine Führer, but one of the Hitler rejects turned out to be a terrific Truman.
But Lenny was a problem, perhaps because it was term-time and parents didn’t want their boys to miss school. My friend, the critic Mark Kermode, saw me eyeing his son and, before I could even ask, barked: “No way.”
So we hired a midg . . . sorry, little person – or tried to, by holding an audition, until we were told bluntly that little people do not audition. So we tried to hire a big-name little person sight unseen. But alas, he had script approval and rejected us out of hand. We got lucky, though, with the talented Rusty Goffe, who coincidentally had played a mini version of me in a promo for a season of my films on Channel 4.
We shot the movie against green walls so the backgrounds could be morphed in later. The first day was tough going, with me being director, continuity person, soundman, director of photography and camera operator. My daughter begged or borrowed the costumes.
At the end of day one, working with a team of five instead of the usual 50, I said to Emma that I would really appreciate just one more body in the shape of an assistant director to help to push things along. Next day, there he was – and Ben had an added bonus in that his grandfather had been a high-ranking officer in the SS. Suddenly, we had a well-versed technical adviser who spoke German like a native. We sailed through filming in four days instead of the predicted five.
So far I’ve said little about the narrative of the film, which is in the form of a five-minute trailer for a spectacular feature film. I shall not divulge the shocking ending lest one judge the whole movie sight unseen, which could be fatal. Let’s just say that it’s about resurrection.
I have two more breakthrough films on the stocks – Porn-Again Christian and A Chink in the Curtains. Each one lasts just one minute, including credits.
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