Last night I dreamed that Andrew Harrison and I were in the middle of making our next film, Shadow of the Dead. We were round the back of Portadown College, filming a scene with a girl (no, it’s not that kind of dream, you dirt-bird). I can’t remember the scene, exactly, and it didn’t resemble anything close to the story we have in mind, but I remember thinking that the scene would have been so much better if the character I was playing had his arm cut off for the rest of the film. Obviously this would be impossible on the cheapo budget of a Midnight Pictures flick, so we needed another solution. I had the crazy idea that if I allowed my arm to be chopped off for real, the doctors could sew it back on in a few months time, when filming was completed. I wondered whether I would lose any dexterity in the arm afterwards, and even if I did, I thought it might be worth the loss, for the sheer joy of improving the film. For some reason, I wasn’t thinking about the physical pain involved in losing a limb. The dream ended before I had to make the decision.
I hate dreams where you’re not quite yourself. But still, there’s dedication for you!