Sheffield Doc/Fest 10: A NORTHERN SOUL: A Working Class Hero Is Something To See (& Interview With Filmmaker Sean McAllister)

BAFTA-nominated filmmaker Sean McAllister didn’t have rich parents, a fancy education, or was given any sort of hand-me-downs when he broke into the film industry. Coming from a working class background, the Hull native worked in a factory after leaving school at 16. He spent time on the dole to sustain himself before he found film-making.

Over 30 years later, he’s an established documentarian and he’s found his spiritual successor in his new film A Northern Soul. Set in his home city, the compelling documentary follows Steve Arnott, a warehouse worker who attempts to achieve his creative dream as a hip-hop performer. McAllister’s sublime film is both poignant and hopeful.

A Northern Soul review

At large, it’s a portrait of Hull as it’s designated the City of Culture in 2017. Following years of austerity cuts and a vote for Brexit, the traditionally working-class city could now be in a renaissance period as more citizens are encouraged to deeply engage with the arts and culture. This enables Steve to set up Beats Bus, a mobile recording studio where hip-hop workshops are hosted for youngsters. They’re offered the chance to perform live too, as we see in the film.

The group that Steve teaches has one particular standout – a young boy called Blessing. He has a natural charisma, perfect for McAllister’s lens, and is the source of some of the film’s funniest moments, like when he shares his thoughts on various flavours of crisps. He cries his eyes out at the initial thought of performing on-stage but Steve’s encouragement helps him through. He acknowledges that the alternative to the workshops would be staying at home watching TV and eating popcorn. It’s delightful to witness the positivity already being inspired by Beats Bus.

Life is not all positive for Steve himself, though. Outside of the musical endeavour, he has to get up at 4:30am for the early shift pattern at the warehouse. When at a City of Culture event where he looks to find support for his venture, he observes that he’s probably the only person there who has to wake up that early to go to work. There’s a powerful scene later in the film where he faces demotion and, in one of his regular smoke breaks outside, he realises that, despite working there for years, he’s just an easily disposable cog in the wheel for some “rich f*ckers.”

Steve may only have delivered such a monologue to Sean McAllister. As aforementioned, Steve is a spiritual successor of sorts to McAllister so the parallels of their lives make it easy for them to communicate with one another, and for Steve to be frank and honest for the camera. He’s under no delusions about his circumstances and stays humble as he strives for the success of the bus, so it’s very easy to sympathise with him. McAllister makes no attempt to distort the good and the bad of the daily working-class lifestyle having lived through it all himself. At heart, the wonderfully made A Northern Soul is a classic underdog story of a man going against the odds to follow his dream. His drive and spirit are admirable.

Whilst the focus is largely on Steve, the director’s examination of Hull doesn’t just revolve around him. McAllister’s parents are featured in the film and, whilst they’re more concerned with their son’s unclean shirt than the City of Culture, they’re shown to be participating in cultural activities that may not have been present for them before. Prior to the decline of the fishing and shipping industries in the 70’s, what the older generation also may not have experienced was abject levels of in-work poverty – Joe McAllister, Sean’s father, points out how his pension is more than Steve’s salary. The generational differences are eye-opening.

McAllister’s first-person mode of film-making is appropriate and especially effective for one of his most personal films yet. There’s an evident evolution in his technique – he uses his mobile phone to instantly capture significant personal moments. The act of making a film using a mobile is a sign of the evolved times themselves, and how creative feats can be accomplished through the simplest means. As the filmmaker remarks in our interview, art can be real for very little in terms of funding. But, in some places, there just hasn’t been any investment at all. A Northern Soul is an illuminating look at a new Hull, its citizens empowered by the long-needed support for their artistic ambitions, transcending its limits to become the hub of a soulful North.

Interview with Sean McAllister

I spoke to Sean McAllister for a conversation revolved around topics such as the support for artists in the North, representations of the working class and his relationship with Steve. I was also given exclusive insight into his potential next film.

Musanna Ahmed for Film Inquiry: Hi Sean. I also grew up in a working-class town in the north of England so I recognise many of the struggles in A Northern Soul, because they’re present where I’m from too. The one scene in particular that sticks out to me was when you ask Steve about if he’s considered leaving his job to pursue the Beats Bus venture full-time and he says “Nah, f*ck being an artist.”

Sean McAllister: “I can’t be a starving artist.”

Yes, exactly. The reason why that stuck out to me is because I’m interested to know how you, being a filmmaker from the North, feel about the financial support given to artists in our region.

Sean McAllister: Well, it’s zero isn’t it. There used to be a great thing in Hull called Hull Time Based Arts when I was there and it was supported by funding. All of that is gone and those things are so important. People like Steve are stuck at the grass-roots and Hull is full of people like him. And if Hull is full of people like him, then everywhere in the North must be full of people like him because there’s no funding for them. Most of them do it for nothing.

Do you feel that the general consensus for artists over there is that they have to move out of Hull to succeed?

Sean McAllister: Yeah. They don’t always feel like art and culture is for them because it’s never on the agenda as something that’s important. Unless you can see your contemporaries doing it, how can you aspire to do it? You only ever see someone in London doing it so how can you believe in doing it yourself? It’s not tangible, it’s not real, but it can be real for very little. All you need to do is have funding for small things. They don’t require huge amounts of money. There’s also a different emphasis on education – my kids are not academic and they’re struggling when they’re being pushed to do all these f*cking exams that I never did. I wasn’t forced to do them, I just went into a factory at 16.

I see a parallel in yours and Steve’s story because you worked in a factory too. Comparing yours and his journey into the arts, do you think nothing much has changed or do people have better opportunities now because Hull is the City of Culture?

Sean McAllister: Well, that title is artificial isn’t it. I suppose in my day I had a community centre that luckily had a video camera and that gave me a chance to find something that I still can’t believe. I still feel awkward about the word ‘artist’ as a working-class person because art was for somebody else, not for me. Art was for the middle class or somebody who grew up in a cultured environment but today that’s even less.

I’ve often wondered what came first, the chicken or the egg, in terms of arts in the North. Are there many people in Hull who have come up to you and expressed interest in filmmaking, music, or another art form, and haven’t had the opportunities or is there simply not much interest there to begin with?

Sean McAllister: It is chicken-and-egg isn’t it, how do you know until you expose people to it. What I would say is that the majority of people don’t want to f*cking do Maths and English and why should they? Why should people be forced through this Michael Gove bollocks? Where’s all that coming from? Most people are not switched on for that. Most people should find what it is they want to actually do.

When I worked in a factory for many years, it was festering. I used a lot of time on the dole thanks to Margaret Thatcher. I was allowed to be on the dole and not sanctioned or punished or penalised like today. In that time, I found myself and, in finding myself, which is knowing what I want to do with film, society is more harmonious. I feel valuable to society and isn’t that what we should be doing?

We should be creating an environment where people can find their better strengths. If you want deprivation and communities of people doing nothing, the chances of them smoking weed and getting up to harder and more dangerous drugs is higher. And when dealing with that, society has to pay a bigger price, in every way. Arts are the answer in so many ways and it’s not expensive so I can’t understand the attitude.

Obviously, Brexit surrounds this film and nobody really knows what will happen in the future but how do you feel it will affect the future of Steve’s story?

Sean McAllister: Let’s say Brexit happens, does that mean the funding goes away? No, I don’t think so but, in all honesty, I think there’s more chance of funding for Hull within Europe than without. Do you think Westminster is gonna throw money to Hull for the arts? I think there’s more chance of it coming from Brussels and that’s proven. There was more regeneration in the poorer areas of Britain from Brussels than there was from Westminster – certainly with the European Social Fund.

I noticed that, despite the hardships he went through, Steve never tells you to go away or turn the camera off. You have an easy-going and fully trusted relationship with him, how did you develop such a strong bond?

Sean McAllister: I think he saw my previous films and knew who I was plus there’s an added advantage of making films in Hull – if you’re from Hull, the people there are an extended family to some extent. Even though we didn’t personally know each other, we were both from Hull so we established a trust that was bigger than you normally get. He said to me at the beginning, “If you do this film, you will get 100%. I want it to be 100%.” He was trying to be as generous to the process as he possibly could, for the film.

Your parents are also a big part of the film. How did they feel when they saw the finished film?

Sean McAllister: My mum said, “He won’t catch me out like that again”. [laughs] They came to the premiere and were a bit surprised because, to be honest, I never completely told them that they were in it until they were sat in the cinema next to me. [laughs] There was a scene I filmed with my mother when she’s wiping me down and even in the lift as we were coming to the cinema she was like, “Look at your top!” and I’m saying “Mum, you’ve got to see this film so you can stop doing this!” [laughs]

I noticed that you captured a lot of footage on the spot with a mobile phone. Was that a change in your technique, using different video devices?

Sean McAllister: Yeah, I always like the smallest technology possible and certainly the phone has become so small. It’s amazing. It was set to 4k and, as long as it’s quite steady, it actually looks as good as any other camera. It’s just the sound that can be a little different.

You brought up an interesting point in the Q&A at the premiere where you spoke of avoiding the Channel 4 poverty porn representation of the working class. I felt that you achieved a realistic portrait of what it’s like, so how do you think other filmmakers can do the same at representing the working-class communities in a real way?

Sean McAllister: Charlie Phillips in his review, for the Guardian, said that it’s very difficult to make films about people like Steve because it’s easy to step over the line and for them to lose their dignity. What was beautiful about the film and Steve’s portrayal was that he didn’t lose his dignity. Charlie Phillips’ answer was that more working-class people need to be making films about the working-class. You don’t need people coming from Oxford and Cambridge going to work in highly paid jobs in television and then going to make films about the working-class.

In one of your previous films, Japan: A Story of Love and Hate, there was also a big theme of poverty in the story of formerly rich businessman Naoki Sato. Did you think there are similarities in the story of A Northern Soul?

Sean McAllister: I hope so because that was one of my stronger films and I always wanted to make the same film in Britain, about in-work poverty. I dream that maybe in some way I did, with Steve becoming the Naoki of Hull. It’s the story of love and hate in England, really.

With your subjects, to what extent do you feel you have a responsibility to help them considering the line between filmmaker and friend?

Sean McAllister: Well, I always like to step over that line. I’m still in touch with Naoki and I’m still in touch with Kais (protagonist of The Reluctant Revolutionary). Once you build that kind of friendship, I don’t think it ever ends. I think I will stay in touch with Steve. It’s important for me to enable him to his next step. We’re already talking about circulating the film with the bus so we’re hoping we can help each other.

What is the ultimate impact you would like for this film to have on Hull?

Sean McAllister: We’ve got support from the BFI and the BBC and are also backed by the Joseph Rowntree Foundation, who are about enabling people out of poverty. They’re really strong on the campaign of the film and are already targeting the House of Commons for a screening of the film followed by a debate.

They’re also targeting political conferences across the country, both Tories and Labour, so we can get ministers and politicians to watch the film and say, “Look, here’s a guy who’s working hard, he’s representative of most people.” So many people are working zero-hour contracts – he’s not exceptional – but most of those people only see Coronation Street on TV and never f*cking see themselves.

Steve is your everyday guy who represents the nation. I think if he can fall through the net, we all can, and it needs to be addressed. There are loads of jobs that are not worth f*cking taking and we need to make them worth taking. We need to make them worthwhile so people can work, keep their dignity, and have their own lifestyle.

I agree. You have a gift for making great documentaries after filming for long periods of time, sometimes for several years, so can you could tell us about anything else you’re working on?

Sean McAllister: I’m filming again with Kais a little bit in Yemen because Yemen has been out of the news and his story, for me, is as important as well as anything going on in Britain. I’m filming there but I’m not commissioned, I’m just filming for myself.

Another thought that’s come to me just this weekend is another film about Britain. I was thinking about the North-South divide. We have now until March 2019 for Brexit, but not making a film a Brexit because we have this timeline in the background which is sort of a ticking bomb. You have this island, Britain, which is somehow divided in the middle, so it’s just a concept at the moment but a big landmark feature doc called The North-South Divide. That sounds good doesn’t it?

I think it does.

Sean McAllister: You got it here first! [laughs]

Film Inquiry would like to thank Sean McAllister for his time and insight.

Doc/Fest 10 is a series of combined review and interview features for ten films seen at the Sheffield International Documentary Festival 2018.  You can view the rest of the features by clicking here.