The End Of September

And thus ends September,
And Summer’s last ember
Still flickers and glows,
The colour of an autumn leaf,
As the river of Seasons flows
Into the Firth of Time,
With all our hopes and grief.

I have no idea where that came from, my head is often full of words, and sometimes those words come together. The first line just popped up in my head this afternoon, and the moment I wrote it down, the second line came straight to me. I wrote the rest in a few minutes, so it is a bit rough, but considering it was written in about ten minutes, I’m fairly pleased with it…

And the cancer circus fun goes on and on…

And so an update on this evil, awful, bastard of a year: the cancer treatment is still ongoing, months later, which is, as you can imagine, incredibly depressing and demoralising. Back towards the end of July I had the last of the seriously awful, three hour IV chemotherapy sessions, where basically poison is pumped through your body, making your feel dreadful, buggering up healthy cells as well as the cancerous ones (it’s a blunderbuss weapon compared to a sniper rifle), ruining your immune system, white blood cell count and attacking your nervous system. It is also cumulative, so each session felt worse than the preceding one, and the recovery time took longer. So I am very glad to get that bit done.

It was a combination therapy of those long IV poisoning torture sessions and two weeks of highly toxic pills (eight a day), so nasty you are told not to touch them, pop them from the blister right into a cup then swallow. So they are so bad you shouldn’t touch them, but you are to ingest them… Yes, welcome to cancer care, where all the medicine is a fucking poison…

After the last IV session I had two more weeks on the pills, then an appointment with the oncologist after that in early August, so I fairly naturally assumed that was going to be the “it’s all done meeting”. Was it hell. Nope, she said she thought I needed further treatment to be sure. Quite demoralising, as you may imagine, when you think after eight months (since being sent for scans to diagnosis to surgery to recovery enough to then undergo brutal chemo) thank god it is done… And it isn’t. Thought perhaps another couple of weeks, oh no, four more sessions they said, each being two weeks of pills and a week to recover then repeat. Which takes me to the end of October. Oh, and the pills now go up to ten a day.

Brutalist Care
(the weird, Brutalist-inspired architecture of the cancer centre at the Western General)

So that took what little wind was in my sails off to the land of nothing good. Frankly it left me so bloody miserable that what I thought was over wasn’t even nearly over. I was in today for yet another poison session, and this time they upped the bloody meds to now twelve a day, ye gods. Because I have recovered some of the weight loss during the cancer and surgery time when I struggled to eat, and of course meds are often calculated according to size, mass etc. I understand that, but it’s still bloody depressing, not just to still be on these, but now on even more.

The thing is, back in August the oncologist, just to make me feel even happier about all this, told me they wanted me to do more on the pills but have to be careful as they will eventually cause irreperable, permanent damage to my body. Swell – stop now and hope it is all gone and not going to come back, or take months more of the toxic pills and hope it doesn’t destroy the healthy parts of your body. What sort of choice is that for anyone to have to make??? So today when they upped the level of these damaging drugs, I was understandably upset and concerned, so the specialist talked to me for a while.

Brutalist Care 2

End of the day, what bloody choice do I have but to continue with this horrible, toxic regime? But I am long since past the end of my fucking tether, frankly. I’ve had enough, more than enough, of this miserable time, and I still have weeks more of it to endure, now at an even higher level of dosage. If the oncologist in November tells me anything other than it’s all fine and done, they will hear me screaming in every fucking parellel dimension. I’ve gotten so tired of it all now I don’t even keep up hope or faith that it will be finished then or not.

And frankly, even if it finally is done this time, I can’t imagine any sense of relief, just weary resignation, because bastard cancer is never, ever really over. You will worry the rest of your life about it coming back. Every time you feel odd, or ill, you will worry it is the cancer cells returning, destroying you from within. Yes, they will scan me regularly for just that sort of thing, I know (the level of care has been incredible, bless our NHS and its staff), but still, no sense of rejoicing, just a tired appreciation that the treatment is done for now, but always wondering at the back of your mind what if it comes back?

Very, very, very tired; that’s going to be pretty much a full year of this now, and I’m worn down by it all.

The Stars My Destination…

I do love Robert Wilde’s time-consuming work, taking a scene from Star Trek VI: the Undiscovered Country (the final film with the original series crew), and reworking it and the soundtrack, with painstakingly crafted and rendered animations. The result takes the original scene of the Enterprise leaving the gigantic, Spacedock orbiting above the Earth, and makes it a far more memorable scene.

Lovely little touches like the thrusters to gently move the ship in port, just like the Shuttle or a satellite today would do, tiny little touches on the thrusters for fine moves, then the powerful impulse engines glowing into life, ready to propel this huge ship out into her natural habitat – deep space. And that final scene as she surges out, eager to be out there again, where she belongs…

I’ve always considered the Big E herself to be an actual character in Star Trek – she is as important as the human actors. And the Enterprise is also a symbol of what humans could become – this huge, immensely powerful vessel, capable of traversing enormous distances, of directing frighteningly powerful weapons…

And yet, she is no warship, she is designed primarily for research and exploration. Not conquest or battles, to explore, to seek out new civiisations and make contact with them, to expand the knowledge of the universe. The idea in Trek that humans by the 23rd century would be capable of creating such astonishing craft, and using them for peaceful exploration, is a part of the optimism in Trek, that humanity can be better than it is now. The ship herself is a symbol of optimism and hope, something we all desperately need.

Autumn calls

Autumn is not quite here fully yet, the trees are still mostly leafed in greenery, but more and more gold and brown leaves are showing, the pavements have more fallen leaves creating a crunching carpet underfoot. It may not be quite here yet, but autumn is knocking on summer’s door. I don’t mind – autumn in our northern kingdom, on a nice day, creates the most glorious colours, illuminated by a sunlight that is stretched out now to a soft, golden copper. Gorgeous.

Autumn Is Knocking On The Door 02

Autumn Is Knocking On The Door 01

Fringe After Dark

The Fringe after dark…

Fringe After Dark 01

Coming out of a Fringe show at the Teviot (the student union building for Edinburgh Uni, which resembles the Edinburgh branch of Hogwarts), I took some time to walk around Bristo Square and nearby George Square after dark, the area busy and lit up with food stalls and vans and housing temporary performance venues for many Fringe shows.

Fringe After Dark 02

Fringe After Dark 03

Fringe After Dark 04

Hiya, Pals

(above: “Hiya, Pals!” – Fringe banner hanging off Teviot at night during the festival. Below: McEwan Hall, where my graduation ceremony took place a lifetime ago, lit up during the festival)

McEwan Hall At The Fringe

EIFF 2026 – First Zone

EIFF 2026 – First Zone (De Eerste Zone),
Directed by Thom Lunshof,
Starring Hadewych Minis, Violet Braeckman, Oona De Kok, Aus Greidanus Jr.

Fenna (Hadewych Minis) is living alone, in what looks like an industrial cathedral, which actually turns out to be an enormous offshore wind turbine, one of the few structures still above the waters in this post-climate change world. The Netherlands has always had a precarious relationship with the sea – historically a powerful maritime nation through much of European history, the sea has brought this small nation riches and trading links and influence across the globe. But with so much of the Netherlands lying below sea level, it is also enormously vulnerable to rising sea levels, with even the ingenious systems of dykes, damns, land reclaimed from the seas and more in a constant battle against nature.

In Lunshof’s First Zone, that battle has finally been lost – climate change and higher sea levels have finally overwhelmed the country, leaving a number of “zones” in various stages of flooding, where the small remaining population tries to survive.

Fenna is in Zone 1, entirely alone in her wind turbine castle – there’s an early scene during a storm where we hear someone banging on the steel door to the turbine and begging for help, but she just stand warily on the inside, doing nothing. It’s never entirely clear if there really was someone outside, or if the noises and voices were all in her head, , hallucinations from PTSD and survivor’s guilt (outside there is nothing except more sea and the odd other turbine, so perhaps the voices were imaginary?). Even if not real, it does serve to demonstrate how isolated from humanity Fenna has become. Silent for the most part, she’s simply in survival mode at any cost, no-one else counts.

Of course, she wasn’t always this way. We see her periodically open a hatch and descend into a flooded part of the turbine structure, just floating there, like an isolation tank, sometimes stroking a small box she wears on a chain around her neck, and there are flashbacks to the pre-flood world, a normal home, children, happiness. When something goes wrong with the hatch during a storm, she is forced out of the underwater exit, directly into the raging sea, and taken far from her isolated home, waking up to find she has been fished from the sea by a family group with numerous children, living on a large boat.

This is the start of Fenna’s travels, as she tries to traverse the various zones to head back to her home. She is still quiet, rarely speaking, and very wary and distrustful of any person she meets (she has been alone a long time), no matter how much they try to help her or how friendly they seem to be. On this journey she encounters numerous people, some kind, some hostile, but the one she spends the most time with is Ive (Violet Braeckman), who is the opposite of the stoic, suspicious Fenna, being open, cheerful and friendly, and, as you might imagine in this kind of story, the unusual partnership starts to have an affect of Fenna (although this is no sugar-coated, sweet tale, this is still a fierce, hard fight for survival for all of them in a world changed forever).

While the story may become slightly repetitive as Fenna encounters one group, leaves, heads to the next zone and meets more, repeat, I think that’s actually part of the point: there is no big scene or sudden action or revelation here, it is a slow-paced hard battle to remain alive in this world. Cinematographer Sami El Hassani fills the screen with some amazing visuals, from the industrial Gothic of the part submerged turbine to wide landscape/seascape vistas, all shot using real-world Dutch locations, which adds some verisimilitude to the scenario.

EIFF 2026 - First Zone 02
(director Thom Lunshof (right), with actors Hadewych Minis (left) and Violet Braeckman (centre) at the 79th Edinburgh International Film Festival, talking with the Filmhouse audience. Images from my Flickr, click on the pics for the larger versions)

EIFF 2026 - First Zone 03

It isn’t all just seascapes either, there are little plots of low-lying land still just above the water, where some eke out a living, and then shallows, barely waist-deep, filled with water-based foliage, traversed by wooden walkways (reminiscent of the Fens in the UK). Nico Maas’s superb, low-fi soundtrack – slightly reminiscent of slide-guitar king Ry Cooder, especially his Paris, Texas music – fits El Hassani’s visuals perfectly. Combining these visuals and soundscape with solid performances from Minis and Braeckman, and you have a slow-burn but compelling tale, in a setting that’s dangerously close to being real and not just fantasy. A tale not just of survival, but of what we can easily lose – our shared humanity – if survival becomes our only goal, because survival is not the same as living.

First Zone was a World Premiere at the 79th Edinburgh International Film Festival

This review was originally penned for Live For Films