Daniel Cormack
Daniel Cormack was born in London and educated at Thomas Tallis Comprehensive School and Oxford University. He worked at the National Film Theatre and the Electric Cinema in Notting Hill before founding Actaeon Films in 2004. Daniel’s debut film, AMELIA AND MICHAEL (2007), starring Anthony Head, won the Tiscali Short Film Competition at Raindance and his second film A FITTING TRIBUTE (2007) was given a UK Film Council Completion Fund Award and premiered at Edinburgh. He has recently directed the short documentary MAKE ME A TORY (2007) for Channel 4 and the micro-short comedy NIGHTWALKING (2008).
What training have you received?
I’m an autodidact: I’ve learnt through practice and, of course, by watching lots and lots of films and reading about films and filmmaking. I’d recommend Barry Salt’s book Film Style and Technology: History and Analysis as a companion to viewing film history and understanding how films are made.
What kind of projects attract you?
I look for stories with cinematic potential that entertain and challenge audiences. Generally, I prefer films with a heightened feel to them rather than straightforward realism. I like genre, especially if there’s something unusual, unfamiliar or a twist to the usual formula in it. Similarly, I prefer dramas that have an epic feel to them even if they are quite intimate and nuanced in physical scale. The perfect project would be one that is compellingly of the moment in theme or subject but combined with a mythic, universal and timeless feel. I didn’t name my company—Actaeon Films—after a character from Greek and Roman mythology for nothing.
What’s the best advice you’ve been given as a director?
“Mankind only makes real progress off the backs of a relatively small number of individuals who do not play safe but use enterprise and will power to achieve their objectives.” So I suppose the advice is: be bold.
Most significant moment in your career so far?
I was invited to screen all my works so far at BFI Southbank by the X’08 Festival. It was a watershed moment as I’d finished nearly an hour’s worth of material within 12 months, without really pausing for breath. It was nice to get some perspective on them by seeing them all screened theatrically before an audience.
You’ll die happy when…
I’m afraid the answer’s going to be never. The creative impulse is perfect and, as with any artist, you are striving to realise that perfection—which is, of course, impossible. I believe in the old maxim that art is never finished, only abandoned, so I’d start to worry if I felt completely satisfied. ■
