More than an aesthetic or There isn’t a place for pseudo-'wokeism' in modern film and television

You’ve just been given the call sheet and the location is Moulsecoomb or Whitehawk, the hairs on the back of your neck raise and a shiver goes down your spine. “What if they steal my 4k camera? God save the light and sound equipment!” Thoughts of being mugged by a thirteen-year-old wearing Adidas trackies race in your mind. “You’ve put the nearest hospital and police station, right?” you shakingly ask the producer. The last thing that crosses your mind is the unconscious bastardization of the precariat. Not a shred of self-awareness of how you’re the victim of government rhetoric and social conditioning flows into your consciousness.

In order to understand where I’m coming from with this think-piece, it would perhaps be beneficial to understand a few things about me. I’m a twenty-four-year-old queer man; a vegetarian; an enjoyer of classical rock; wearer of skinny jeans and Doc Martens; and I spent three years pursuing a degree in filmmaking....

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