Our latest blog comes from stipend-holder Jack Henderson who looks at trauma and creativity in Bill Douglas's work. Jack is a filmmaker and psychotherapist, working on a screenplay about Bill Douglas's life.
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“I am proud of my life and I will have no man sully it as to relieve someone’s guilt. My advice to the Scots is to look forward, not back. If they make it their business to see that no child suffers again in any way like I did then my films will have been worthwhile. I am not ashamed.” — Bill Douglas[1]
When exploring the life of Bill Douglas, a key theme is the dialogue that emerges between his real-life experiences of cruelty and poverty growing up in Newcraighall in the 1930s and 40s, his written reflections on his life, and the portrayal of his history through the proxy character of Jamie in the Childhood Trilogy. With the generous support of a stipend from the Bill Douglas Cinema Museum, I visited the archive to explore their abundance of contemporary sources both by, and about, Douglas to support my research process for a screenplay which will explore how Douglas’ creative process allowed him to process his childhood struggles.
My screenplay intends to follow Douglas through three time periods: pre-Trilogy, Trilogy and post-Trilogy, so I explored sources from each of these periods with the intention of understanding Douglas’ perspective on his experiences and how this fuelled his creativity. This theme offers a strong message for modern cinema audiences, relayed through the resilience and creativity of Douglas’ life.
In the above quote, it appears that Douglas is aware of how the text of his Trilogy presents unspeakable, tragic truths about growing up in poverty while also advocating for a future free of shame and cruelty by bringing these truths to light. However, Douglas was not always so able to be self-compassionate; at other times in his life, he did express shame about his upbringing. I arrived at the archive with a goal to further understand Douglas’ perspective on his childhood across his life, and how this manifested in his creative outlook.
Pre-Childhood Trilogy Sources
One of the earliest sources which hints at Douglas’ relationship with his past is a poem called To William Douglas On Competence, written by his close friend Peter Jewell in 1955, while they were serving in the RAF together in Egypt. Jewell writes:
“flex your capabilities, survey
The vast new world where mind can enter in
And set your course; for a life along the way
Excites, is counteraction to your sin”[2]
Poem by Peter Jewell 'To William Douglas' ( BDC 1 ZAD 5/4 Copyright Peter Jewell/BDC Museum)
In a 2024 addendum to the poem, Jewell clarifies that the “sin” in question is Douglas’ shame about being born illegitimate. This shame contrasts his later statement quoted above. Douglas was still a teenager at this time, and processing difficult childhood experiences is a long, slow process which he had only just had the chance to engage with, so it is not surprised that his perspective changed over time. The poem was written at Douglas’s request quite early in their friendship, and although Jewell now believes that it feels somewhat condescending, it is also an early example of Jewell’s encouragement that Douglas’ background did not have to be a limitation on his future. Jewell’s support was pivotal in his journey to feeling confident and embodied in his creativity. He suggests that he would now change the title to ‘On Confidence’, because’ although Bill became very competent, confidence was something he always lacked’.
In some ways, what remained unsaid in the pre-Trilogy years of Douglas’ life is also instructive. Douglas’ love of film was firmly rooted in childhood escapism[3], but he developed a wider engagement with the possibilities of the medium during trips to see international films diverse in style and tradition with Jewell in the 1960s. In 1965, he was ready to explore film as a creative outlet of his own and Jewell gave him an 8 mm camera as a Christmas present, providing everything he needed to create visual art independently.
Still frame from Bill Douglas's home movie 'Fever'.
This resulted in Douglas’ first screen works: 20 Home Movies[4] which explore a variety of filmmaking techniques and tones. Currently held in physical and digital form at the archive, they show Douglas’ creativity expanding into areas as diverse as Hitchcock homage, slapstick comedy, and costume drama. However, they lack the signature autofictional elements of the Trilogy. There are very few moments that feel informed by Douglas’ childhood experiences, and most of the films stay in the realm of escapism. It’s easy to wonder what motivated this absence for Douglas, but in any case, his creative eye soon turned towards the Trilogy which offered the chance to explore his experiences head on.
Considering what this can add to my creative process, I interpret this period as a time when things were shifting for Douglas. He had lived in London for around a decade by the time he wrote the first draft of My Childhood. It seems that the safe and happy life he had there offered an opportunity to develop his creative perspective, and eventually to turn the lens back on himself.
Contemporary Sources on the Childhood Trilogy
A pivotal period that shows the development of Douglas’ attitude towards his childhood is the genesis of the script for My Childhood. The script underwent extensive changes from the first draft to the final product, as it became more directly inspired by Douglas’ experiences. It is well known that there was an early version of the script called Jamie which had more biographical distance from Douglas’ experiences than My Childhood, but Peter Jewell also notes[5] that there was a very first draft called Return Journey which focused on a Liverpudlian boy. This suggests that it took some development and experimentation to embrace the full extent of the autobiographical nature of the script, as the initial choice to displace his experiences geographically provided more emotional distance from the material.
In the late 1960s, filmmaker Lindsay Anderson offered guidance to Douglas, encouraging him to further personalise the script and more firmly claim his own perspective. Archive material reflects both the initial offer of guidance from Anderson[6] and a long-running supportive friendship[7] shown in letters exchanged between the two.
Postcard from 1968 by Lindsay Anderson to Bill Douglas after reading his screenplay 'Jamie' (BDC 1 XAD 5/5)
Once again, we see a sympathetic mentor figure helping Douglas to embrace the truth of his past, and facilitating a greater degree of raw emotion in Douglas’ work. Changing the setting of the script to Newcraighall had the additional benefit of opening a dialogue between Douglas and Newcraighall residents. Residents like Helen Crummy, head of the Craigmillar Festival Society, expressed support for My Childhood[8] and even became involved in the film’s production.
Douglas wrote some notes from the time as a way of unloading his thoughts on the stresses of the filmmaking process. He addressed the fact that reactions to the final product from Newcraighall locals were mixed. Some appreciated his confronting portrayal of the realities of their childhood, while others questioned the veracity of the cruelty and poverty present in My Childhood. Upon hearing his experiences questioned, Douglas wrote that his “sense of shame turned to rage, for to admit shame was to negate my family’s existence”[9]. This is a clear rejection of shame from Douglas, which suggests his understanding of himself had shifted over time. It seems that outward denial of his struggles emboldened Douglas to reject feelings of shame about himself and his family. This is more evidence that translating his experiences into an autofictional creative perspective and sharing that with others were key forms of creative and emotional expression for Douglas.
Douglas continued with his Trilogy, and a long-running conflict developed between Douglas and the management of the British Film Institute during the films’ production process. Letters in the archive[10] extensively document the back-and-forth between Douglas and the British Film Institute over post-production issues such as editing transitions and the sound mix.
Douglas blamed certain members of the BFI for refusing to accommodate technical changes that he felt were necessary for the final product, feeling that other members of the production were blocking his artistic mandate and failing to show sufficient care towards the film[11]. In an unsent letter to a key member of the BFI team, Douglas expressed frustration that the changes he asked for were not implemented. Discussing the possibility of releasing the film without fully refining the technical elements, he wrote:
“May I remind you, many people will suffer by this action. The door will open on a rush of muddy water. Well, sink or swim I say. And I don’t mind in the least sinking for the film.”[12]
This quote shows a filmmaker with an exacting precision who was willing to personally suffer to ensure that his creative vision was complete. Emotionally, it shows a change from the Douglas of 1968, who was not yet so clear about how he wanted to portray his experiences. The fact that the letter was unsent shows he was tactful, fair, and kind in his communication, but the importance of creative ownership for him is clear. This shows in the final versions of the Trilogy films, which reflect Douglas’ attention to detail and emotional ownership of the material.
Douglas’ battle for creative control has become a key component of my plan for my screenplay. This time period shows a clear arc of growth for Douglas as he embraced his creative voice. In the letters exchanged through this period, we see that Douglas stood firm in his creative choices, even when it would have been easier to give in. This integrity is an inspiring theme that we can see throughout the production processes of Douglas’ films.
After the Trilogy
After the release of the Trilogy, Douglas received an array of fan letters about the trilogy, which documented how viewers felt their experiences of working class life in Scotland were authentically represented for the first time[13]. Douglas was not alone in processing his upbringing through the Trilogy, as his honesty has resonated with viewers over several decades and provided emotional catharsis for them as well.
Douglas also worked on a range of projects that expanded beyond his real-life experiences. Although he would make only one more film, material held at the archive regarding unproduced projects like Flying Horse[14] and Confessions of a Justified Sinner[15] show a creative branching out into new genres and experimenting with unexpected creative choices. It would be too neat to claim that this shows Douglas had completely left the pain or struggles of his childhood behind, but it certainly suggests that he felt ready to explore other subjects on film.
Personally, using creativity as an outlet for emotional catharsis is one of the main things that makes me connect so strongly with Bill Douglas as a person and as a creative. The archive materials at the Bill Douglas Cinema Museum have been instrumental in deepening my understanding of Douglas’ life through that lens. The wealth of first-person sources about Douglas’ life offer a clear opportunity to create artistic works that share the positive messages present in Douglas’ story, and that is what I intend to do with my own project.
The first source that highlighted this theme of the “catharsis of creativity” for me was a quote from Peter Jewell highlighted in the liner notes included with the 2008 BFI DVD release of the Trilogy, so it feels appropriate to close this blog with the powerful words of the man who offered Douglas the most support and camaraderie. In a 2001 poem written for Douglas after his death, Jewell perfectly encapsulates the transformative power of creativity:
“Psychologists say deprived childhood can
Enflame adult destructiveness; or — when
Redeemed, enabled through relationship -
Set fire to ageless creativity.”[16]
References
[1] Letter from Douglas to David Brown, 1972, BDC 1/TRI/1/2
[2] On Competence, Peter Jewell, 1955, and addendum, Peter Jewell, 2024 BDC 1/XAD/5/6
[3] Palace of Dreams: The Making of a Filmmaker by Bill Douglas, 1978
[4] Douglas’ Home Movies, BDC 1/XAD/1/5
[5] In conversation with me, July 2024.
[6] Postcard from Anderson to Douglas, 1968, BDC 1/TRI/1/1
[7] Letters between Anderson and Douglas, BDC 1/XAD/5/5
[8] Letters from Crummy to Douglas, 1971-2, BDC 1/TRI/1/1
[9] Douglas’ journals, 1972, BDC 1/TRI/1/4/1
[10] Various letters, 1972-8, BDC 1/TRI/1/2-3
[11] Douglas’ journals, 1974-8, BDC 1/TRI/1/4/2-3
[12] Undated, unsent letter written by Douglas for BFI Director Keith Lucas, BDC 1/TRI/1/2
[13] Fan letters sent to the Radio Times in the 1970s, BDC 1/TRI/3/6.
[14] “Flying Horse” materials, BDC 1/XAD/1/1/1
[15] “Confessions of a Justified Sinner” materials, BDC 1/XAD/1/1/3
[16] Liner notes, BFI release of the “Bill Douglas Trilogy”, 2008