Zero
Movies

In a sense, Zero is the ultimate fall guy. He follows in the tradition set by the likes of King Kong, the Creature from the Black Lagoon — except that Zero is a necessary enemy. Unlike his predecessors, he is no killer. In fact, there is no sound basis for the townspeople to hate or fear him, beyond unsubstantiated propaganda from the Authorities. Even within a utopian system, there remains a need for conflict — real conflict — and for the townspeople, Zero is the only enemy there is. There is no malevolence in his make-up; his disposition is entirely passive.

Yet the question hanging over everything is whether Zero really is a bad man worthy of his enemy status — or whether he is, in truth, a good man who sees it as his duty to play the role of enemy, thereby stabilising a town system that might otherwise tear itself apart.

If the townspeople and the Authorities are right — as they believe — then the persecution of the thin figure is arguably justifiable. And Zero's dilemma, as the films unfold, is whether he himself has become too confused about his own identity to see the situation with any real clarity.

Zero is always cast in dark clothing, appearing almost like a drawn stick-man. Following Depolarizer (1997) — where it seems he has come to terms with the townspeople — he finds his inner strength diluted by compromise. Perversely, he begins to realise he is worse off than before, because he knows he can never fully capitulate, in the interests of the townspeople themselves. From Displaced (1999) onwards, his outfit becomes a dirty grey — a symbol of his weakened state.

There is, however, a group — apparently from outside the town — who make contact with Zero at critical moments to restore his self-belief when the odds against him seem overwhelming. Representing a coterie known as Questor, they appear at intervals beginning with Catherine (Catherine York) in Displaced. But is their presence real — or merely a product of Zero's imagination, pure wish-fulfilment on his part?

Perhaps he is indeed intended to be the enemy of the town. But is this good or bad — and is he destined to always hold this balance alone?

Practically all my Zero Movies have been shot on celluloid. I like the 'one step removed from reality' quality that cine film offers. When I first began working with Super 8mm, I had doubts about its long-term viability — but I liked the look, and so I persevered regardless of commercial trends.

It was only in 2010 — after twenty-four years — that I began integrating digitally shot sequences into the cine work. I was concerned about how well they would blend, but shooting at 8.3 pixels I find the integration quite successful. There are sequences where you genuinely wouldn't know which was shot on which medium.

I confess to a deep fondness for the groundbreaking Hollywood silents of the nineteen twenties, and I approach colour as something precious — a great asset — rather than the somewhat blasé attitude of an era where technology makes everything simpler.

In effect, I favour traditional methods allied to modern developments, approached in my own idiosyncratic way. Although these films are essentially the work of one person, they could not have been realised without the invaluable contribution of those featured and credited on this site.

The Zero Movies are strongly anti-formula. In the conventional narrative sense, they have no beginning, no middle, no end. Their duration is only as long as I feel necessary. For me, this approach works within the framework of the concept.

In many ways it is the performers — particularly the actresses — who create the interest. I am always looking to provide opportunities for talent, and the Zero Movies offer a compelling vehicle for this, whether I'm working with equity professionals via agencies or approaching non-professionals in whom I can see clear potential.

I see my own performance in the role of Zero as the thread holding the entire concept together — whilst providing a platform for others' talent to shine.