homosexuality as a common thread. They really liked it. Unfortunately, there was disagreement in the group. For once I was completely out of it, but that film club from Hasselt was closed down. I was left a little disappointed, but luckily I didn't hang my head. By taking the bold steps I had received the subsidies, perhaps by taking my bold steps I could also bring together a new group of people who all have a passion for film.
I placed an advertisement in the newspaper, calling for a new film club. A group of friends from Landen responded and a few weeks later it was there: a new film club, as a non-profit organization. We wanted to investigate whether we could realize the film with our own resources. I had received a tip about a very good cameraman, who would certainly be interested in an innovative and cool project.
The exciting catch was: he lived in East Germany. We are writing at the time of the Berlin Wall. There were extremely strict and terrifying controls that took place at the time
the transition from “the West” to “the East” of Europe. I asked a very good friend, Rick, if he would go to East Germany with Mesland wanted to drive to meet the cameraman. The cameraman
and I had been in touch and I was very welcome to visit him for a chat.
Everything was arranged and Luc and I left together, in the winter cold, for East Germany. This was incred-ibly exciting. We knew that absolutely nothing could go wrong at the checkpoints. Getting out of West Germany was no problem, but getting into East Germany was a different matter. Everything was checked, from car to luggage. We got in. From there we got further and further into the country, following the very clear plan I had received from the cameraman. He and his wife were the sweetest people: food, drinks, interesting and in-depth chats, hospitality at its best. Everything was fine, except for his practical impossi-bility to simply leave East Germany. We would need an official East German production partner for the cameraman
to get from East Germany to Belgium; that was priority number 1.I drew up a report to present to the rest of the non-profit organization. Luc and I thanked the cameraman and his wife for the warm welcome
reception. After a hellish and strict check at the border post, we were allowed to leave East Germany. Every possible smuggling corner of the car and suitcases was turned inside out. When they got there
Once we were sure that we had no stowaways, we were allowed to leave. We had the idea and the crew started to form. Now get started effectively! The improbable happened at a cultural event in Ghent.I came across Hugo Claus. Let my courage be the common thread of this story, because yes: I approached him and spoke to him about my scenario. Claus is best known as a great Belgian author, but he also di-rected films. I knew this – and I took my chance. He appreciated my daring! I could send him the screen-play and he would look at it. He made absolutely no promises, but he definitely wanted to read it. I heard back from him a few weeks later – and – really – he wanted to give it a chance!
An advance was required come, of course, and we still had to make a lot of adjustments, because there had to do some serious digging - but yes, he wanted to do business with us. Danny, a very good friend of mine and I took care of the adjustments, a contract was signed, our project was submitted to the subsidy committee and we started dreaming out loud. Our film club, in collaboration with Hugo Claus! At one point we were allowed to go to a big press conference in Amsterdam, where Claus and I would talk about the film. The conference would take place in a large, international hotel!
Very exciting – with the entire film club we traveled from Landen to Amsterdam, with different vans and cars, on a journey to fame. It stormed terribly hard. Gusts, rain, white streets, mud puddles next to the road – and I had to pee. We stopped along the highway, other vans and cars stopped too, and I walked over. I peed as quickly and as best as I could, closed my pants again and –SNIP.
My foreskin got stuck in my trouser zipper – I jumped in pain, a gust of wind cut through, I shifted and –BAF. Suddenly I was almost three meters lower. There was a deep descent next to the
place where we had stopped, a typical deep ditch, and with the mud and the rain and the wind I had not been able to keep my balance and presto, I had slipped into the ditch.
“HELP!!”, I shouted from the canal.
I tried to climb back up but kept slipping on the mud - I was stuck there. Mark, a comrade who was on the road, had noticed that I was no longer standing in my pee spot.
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