Jute City (1991)

Jute City has a fairly impressive line up for a BBC Scotland gangster series. Music by David Stewart of Eurythmics fame, directed by Stewart Orme, and an mini who's who of Scottish film talent. Sadly it has disappeared without a trace taking with it Dundee's only recent appearance as itself in the world of movies and television.

Director: Stuart Orme
Starring: Peter Mullan, Douglas Henshall, Billy Riddoch, David O'Hara, Joanna Roth, Fish, Clive Russell, John McGlynn, John Sessions, Jenny McCrindle, Ion Caramitru, Billy McColl, Billy McElhaney, Lynn Ferguson

Fish his own story:

(from The Company Fanzine issue #5 "august 1991"and issue #6 "december 1991")

I was there not to hide but to play the part of "Ferguson" in a 3 - part thriller being filmed for the BBC. I'd auditioned in Glasgow in January for producer John Chapman, director Stuart Orme and writer David Kane. At the audition they were unsure of which part I'd play and I read for Tierney - the slimey, speed snorting, paranoid, ex-rockstar nightclub owner and Anderson the vicious and ruthless gang boss. Was that really how I looked I wondered? I said that I didn't feel confident enough to play Anderson, which was quite a featured supporting role and that Tierney was too obvious. They all agreed and they said they'd think about it and get back to me. I thought that was it and I was more amazed than anyone to be offered "Ferguson", and told to be in the "Pool" in March. "Ferguson" was perfect. I'd be in 2 of 3 episodes as a character necessary enough in the plot as would-be-killer to be noticeable and recognisable but not too big a role in which a bad performance could be damaging both to my ego and more importantly to the show. It was a good gamble on their part and as Ferguson had a touch of the black comic about him and the fact that he was a 6 1/2' Scottish thug that only got to dress in Doc Martens (mine!) and a tartan shirt and a parka didn't matter.

I never expected glamorous roles and this definitely was not glamorous. I always knew and had been warned about being stereotyped as the hard man, thug, killer, psycho, but this was my first real role and you've got to do it once before you are stereotyped. I didn't care, this was a real chance and I felt a lot more confident after the "Zorro" work. I'd diligently read and memorised my part and practised all my hard man stares in mirrors and at small children, (Tara loved it, she laughed and laughed . . .).

I was heading for bed at the Moathouse intent on a good night's sleep when I found a note under my door inviting me to meet the cast and crew for cocktails in the bar at 9. On arriving I met up with John, David and Stuart who began introducing me to what seemed a cast of thousands that were to become great friends and rowdy company over the next 7 weeks shoot. (My shoot days were normally in 4 day batches and were spread between locations in and around Liverpool, Dundee and Ullapool). All the company turned out to be serious razzlers and after a wee session in the bar I realised this was going to be a lot more fun than Zorro. I went to bed slightly phased but I was up at 10 for a 12 o'clock shoot at the Albert Docks. I had no dialogue so all I had to do was look good. Once scene, one day - easy. I got down to the docks at 10 dressed in my 'thug' costume, exchanged the fish earring for a silver plated crucifix (heavy metal, celtic supporter?) and stood about drinking coffee and smoking for 2 hours before getting into a Granada and sitting at the wheel for 40 minutes as camera shots were set up and executed, gliding around me on dollies, as I stared intently with my practised hard man look at a doorway on the other side of a waterway in Liverpool's Albert Dock. We'd tried driving into shot but it was too messy so I sat there. Cut! and back to wardrobe to get changed and head for a Guiness or two in the city centre.

I was shagged out I tell you - my thumb aching from operating my Zippo as it lit chains of fags. But don't get me wrong fellow droogs the partaking of Guiness in non celubrious establishments was not for pleasure but life study and character building for "Ferguson". I studied well in the 7 weeks and now I can deliver perfectly the part of a 6' 5" drunk Scottish thug, trying to drink alone in a bar. I love this work! The next day was off and I took the opportunity to get to know some of my fellow actors. Peter Mullan, a Glaswegian played Mallet my immediate boss and fellow killer, (he was better at it than me, although an ex soldier - Falklands Veteran?) I was pretty inept, (in fact he was probably a cook coming to think about it).

Peter was inspiring and helped alleviate the nerves and get my character "assembled". He'd worked on Taggart and other TV's but mainly in theatre. As the weeks went by he was a great source of stories and we swapped rock'n'roll for film gossip to the wee sma" hours many a night.

David O'Hara who played the lead role as Duncan was a real captain of the dawn patrol, as was Dougie Henshall (Sammy), Billy Riddoch (Deans), Billy McElhanny (Galbraith) and John McGlynn in fact they were all troopers even John Sessions, the comedian, who played the private detective McMurdo (whom I strangle in episode 2 folks) was prone to a wee dram and a laugh or two. Always a great source of amusement, Mr Sessions would regularly run through his battalions of comic characters at the drop of a pint. In fact the entire acting cast was Scottish. It was a sort of Magnificent 7 of the Scottish acting profession as everyone that was in Darkwells I recognised from one programme or another, but none were exactly household names in UK terms apart from John Sessions. This was Davie O'Hara's vehicle to success, as it was for many of the cast. The beautiful wee Joanna Roth and Jenny McCrindle who played Caroline the lead lassie and main supporting lassie were also looking at a reputation from this show and everyone knew from the director down to extras that it would be a joint effort that would ensure success. And everyone rose to the occasion brilliantly. The series is on BBC1 on Sundays at 9 pm in late October. I won't be accused of giving it away. I'm sure there'll be copies floating around in November that non UK Company members will be feverishly exchanging, so I'm not going to spoil it.

As my role developed the days on set came fast and furious and days off more gratefully appreciated. I spent most of them going to a wide selection of bars or at the cinema, or generally getting to know the city better. I'd been there loads of times on tour and what I knew I really loved but to get the opportunity to stay there for a couple of weeks was something I relished. I reacquainted myself with some old friends and some old haunts like Wilson's Bar and Nightriders, a club who's after hours clientele remind me of the Clutching sleeve - a bit less celubrious but beautifully tacky. It's a nightclub with a Star Wars bar atmosphere and a hideout for some exceptionally individual people. A must to visit for those inclined towards the more colourful drinking establishments.

I took most of the cast there at one time or another and any newcomer to the company was pointed towards me for an introduction to the adventurous side of the city. It wasn't that I really knew a lot of places, just that I happened to find a few by chance, a gift I've always had and been reknowned for on tour. So my reputation was made and I ended up escorting various actors back through empty streets.

But I'd been there before and had tour discipline installed in me years before. I was a pro at this game and although I had a lot of steam to blow off I was always there on time, on set, in my parka. The voice may have dropped an octave or two but this was filming dahling and that gravelly Sean Connery voice that frightens crew, band and promoters, (the gig!!?) enthralled the sound engineers, ("What a great tone"). As Ferguson was not exactly a public speaker his lines were delivered with deep chilling gusto. I didn't have as much pressure on me as David O'Hara, Joanna and the others and after the pressure I'd been under or was under with EMI this was relatively a working holiday. I had fun like you wouldn't believe. Stuart Orme, the director, gave me a lot of help and a lot of leeway. I was given the chance to change lines, add lines and basically develop Ferguson a lot futher than he was originally written. David Kane urged everyone to contribute and this freedom gave me much more confidence in both my delivery and interaction with the other actors. I can't really express my gratitude enough because it would have been easy to play safe and shut the character down. But they didn't and the experience of being totally involved and getting ideas across took my thoughts far away from the EMI hassles that were tearing up the back of my mind.

When the case did push forward, I just brought all the anger out in my acting. The most dangerous time being when Rupert Perry the EMI managing director walked into a lift instead of David O'Hara. I had to beat David up and after 3 takes I had headbutted him 3 times and gave him a severe pummelling. But seriously though folks the elevator scene did get scary and I only touched him with my head (3 times and enough to give him the willies!!). All the punches were pulled which is more than I could say for Rupert Perry and his corporation's.

Three weeks in and we were filming a scene in a wrecked club where we basically ate Chinese food all day, take after take, until I never wanted to see a spring roll again! During a break from eating, my mobile phone went and I received the phone call to end all phone calls and any chance of continuing, never mind winning my case. Howard Rubin my lawyer at Sheridans told me they needed £ 250,000 to fight the case in June, the assigned court date, and £ 100,000 in 3 days to pay off council fees. I spent the whole of the rest of the day trying to raise the money in between film takes. Result - nothing! Polydor had been told by EMI that if they provided any funds they would sue them for inducement (the Stone Roses - also in litigation - had a similar case but had funds waiting for them provided by Geffen records).

Polygram bosses decided it was too risky and backed off and waited on the settlement which they agreed to pay.

The Musician's Union had said "great case but sorry we can't back you with money". Legal Aid said "sorry but you make too much money" (a joke indeed) and Hit & Run my last hope as publishers said they wouldn't advance any more money. We couldn't sell the house in time and even if we had and we'd won the case, I could never have afforded to buy it back and we'd just spent 2 1/2 years hard work renovating the house never mind the planning and half done construction of a studio.

We were beat and to be honest Tammi and I were in tears that night. I'd spent 9 months of my life under intense pressure and £ 100,000 in legal fees already for what? I hadn't been allowed to work, so how could I make money to fight a case against people who controlled my career. I honestly don't think anyone wanted this case to go to court as it potentially held million of pounds worth of record company contracts, corporate assets, in question. A decision in my favour would have turned my contract into a Nemesis and people out there in corporate land were quaking in their Yves St Laurant shoes. But I wasn't McCartney and I wasn't Iron Maiden. I didn't have a hugely successful career behind me on a contract generating vast sums of money. I'd been tied to a shitty contract for 8 years with Marillion and that shitty contract had been forced onto me when I left them to go solo, (it was either that or 50% less advances and 30% less royalties under a leaving members clause in the original contract - they were generous!) They knew I didn't have the money because they gave it to me - or didn't give it to me as things went. I was stuffed and had no option other than to agree to settle on their terms which were £ 300,000 paid as buy out (paid initially by Polydor but reclaimed from my future royalties) and 2% of my next 3 albums on Polydor. Not only that, but I had to acknowledge validity of the contract, accept their press release and I'm not allowed to audit EMI on any sales of Vigil before March 1991, (read into that what you want!) It was tough to accept and that night I was exceptionally drunk. I still feel bitter about it especially as even now EMI are still holding £ 30,000 royalties from the Vigil album against returns. They own the Vigil LP and all my Marillion recording forever, quite a safe bet really and considering they've just been paid £ 300 G by Polydor, my account with them is just a wee bit in the black. But it shows what they are like and their pathetic promotion of the Marillion album had validated the money spent on getting out. But at that time with a blues like I had, Liverpool was the place to be . . .

The production rolled into Dundee for the next locations. Jute City itself, a city ravaged by unemployment, a lack of investment, a wild place full of wild people that David Kane paid homage to in his script. I'd been there only a few times to see Hibs play. As I only live a couple of hours away I never stayed in the city but grew to hate the one way system that I had to wriggle my way through every time I headed up. I only had a few scenes to shoot there, the principle one being the carpet carrying scene in episode 2 as Pete Mullan and I carried the body from the flat to the elevator. The flat and elevator scenes had been shot in Liverpool so it seemed a strange disjointed affair as we waited on the balcony walk of the 16th floor for the light to decay. We were behind schedule at that point and impatience was creeping in as 2 film units worked feverishly away reeling off these important filler and link scenes. Dundee at dusk, the railway bridge, cars pulling up to locations and two thugs carrying a carpet along a 16th floor open balcony walk. It was cold, freezing cold up there as we ran through the scene time after time again waiting on the optimum light for filming. We'd played football with kids from the tower block all afternoon and waited altogether 7 hours before we shot the scene which was in the finished programme for roughly 5 seconds. Such is life. A great number of scenes were drastically cut or just dropped, a fact that Peter continually warned me of - "Dinnae get upset if there's a lot goes missing, it's nuthin' personal but the extras lose out first!". I'm glad I took his advice as scenes we spent ages on and seemed wonderful at the time simply vanished.

For example there was a scene at the garden party where Nikki was murdered, Lord Muircross leaves the house and walks to the tent to met the other guests and Finetti. I'm the security (in my parka!) at the door and in the footage that was shot there was a scene involving Lady Muircross (the senile mother!) and myself carrying on into a meeting between myself and Lord Muircross in which he remembers and acknowledges me ("the sub neandrethal torag") politely after which I open the marquee door to let him in, close it and mumble "wanker"! All you see of me in the entire garden party scene is looking menacingly through a window. The scene was great, chuckles all round but when Stuart Orme sat in the editing suite to cut the programme to 3 x 56 minute slots it had to go. I don't envy his job. The only really funny thing that happened in Dundee was when Dougie Henshall had to drive a sports car down to the edge of the harbour with a stunt man hiding behind the seat giving him instructions on how to drive as Dougie had never driven a car before. All went well, he steered the car up to the edge of the pier and then put his feet on the accelerator and brake of the automatic sports car simultaneously. The car lurched forward and was millemetres away from dropping onto a moored boat and its white faced crew below. Both Dougie and the stuntman had large whiskies in the pub once the Fear had left.

The last piece of filming was in Ullapool on the North West Scottish coast and I spent a week there in the Harbour Inn preparing for my final scene. My foot was to be shot and special effects had a pair of Doc Marten boots similar to mine that were to have a wired explosive charge and false blood put in the toes. We waited on dusk rehearsing the moves and then I went into costume to put my costume on. I picked up my Docs and found that these weren't the boots I'd loved and worn in over the last 5 years, these were the prop boots - without the charge. The penny dropped and the wardrobe girl burst into tears as she realised she'd given the wrong pair to the SFX armourers - Ma good boots! But is was all for a good cause, though I cringed when I saw the toes explode for the camera. I didn't wear them as the boots were already tight without the added extras. The shot wasn't used in the end as it was too gruesome. And so in my final scene I writhed on the ground, feigning a horrific foot injury from John Session's rubbishy pistol play knowing that in a few hours time I'd be involved in a huge going away party that would end with a number of us swilling Macallans whisky sitting on the wall outside the hotel watcing the dawn break over the Russian factory ships in the bay.

The next day I said my goodbyes and thanks to the crew and cast for a brilliant few weeks. It was almost tearful, like the end of a concert tour and as I watched the episodes unravel on BBC1 during the last few weeks I felt really proud and nostalgic. It was my first drama and I can't wait for more. Roll on next year.

Fish is playing Ferguson