Introduction
One of my favourite books is Diary Of A Film by Jean Cocteau. This is the production journal Jean Cocteau kept while shooting La Belle Et La Bete in 1945. In it, he writes about everything from the technical struggles of the shoot to the various problems and breakthroughs among cast and crew. He discusses the rational behind the choices he made for certain scenes, and most memorably provides in-depth coverage of his own physical and emotional condition during the shoot (gross-out warning: he talks about his rashes and boils a lot).
I recently began work on my first long-form graphic novel and thought it might be fun to keep a similar production diary. Commentaries are popular for works of art but they are often made months or years later, with the benefit of hindsight and the ability to convince the reader that all those unintentional mistakes were actually completely intentional, especially those that worked out for the better (I swear)! What makes Cocteau’s book a valuable, and sometimes painful read, is that he was writing two or three times a day on set as events were unfolding. Whenever he had a moment, during coffee breaks or equipment set-ups, he grabbed his notebook and started scribbling out all the anger, frustration, happiness and sheer terror that went into creating the film. It may not be the most carefully planned or thought-out document on the creative process, but it’s definitely one of the most honest.
Some people say an artist shouldn’t discuss their work too much, but I think there are many different ways to discuss a work and these don’t always have to reveal or detract from the finished thing. Cocteau’s diary is a good example of this. When I read the diary, I often recall the relevant sequences from the film, but when this is reversed, and I watch the film, it is such a magical piece of work that within five minutes I have forgotten all about the diary and the process behind making it (and usually the rest of this miserable world too)!
I don’t pretend that either my finished work, or this diary will be anything like the standard set by Cocteau (few works of art are), and I’m pretty sure I don’t want to start keeping diaries for every work I make. But I hope the process of keeping a diary for at least one piece of work will be a valuable learning experience for me, and hopefully for any other curious readers who happen to drop by. I know there are a million artists out there with a million works of art, and this world is a constant battle against various creatives fighting for your attention. But if you are reading this, or have been following the other posts in the journal, I’d like to take a minute to say thanks for choosing to spend your time with me and hope I haven’t bored you too much. If anything I will try to keep this journal as honest as I can, and avoid writing about boils or any other physical ailments unless completely necessary.
