Lord Puttnam

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Friday, December 19, 2008 www.thejakartaglobe.com/features Section  A splash o Indonesian manga artists > Fresh Pastimes C11  A Lord’s L ife, Liv ed to the Full L ord David Puttnam sits on a wooden bench in Nusa Dua, on Bali Island, his pink socks peeking out from beneath well-pressed trousers. With his full white beard and generous smile, he has the look of a jolly grandfather. “When my dad died, I was clearing up his stuff. Inside h is desk there was a quote from a George Bernard Shaw play,” he says. “It said ‘Be true to t he dreams of your  youth.’ And I am. I know it may be very inconvenient and some people get cross with me. “Some of the stuff that I think and feel, people probably think that by now I should have gotten over, but in fact, I haven’t. I am quite the opposite.” Puttnam, who was in Indonesia as the keynote speaker for an intellectual property rights conference in Bali, made his name producing a string of successful films, including Oscar winners “Chariots of Fire” and “The Killing Fields.” Over the years he has also been chairman of the prestigious National Film Television School and vice president and chair of trustees at the British Academy of Film and Television  Arts, or Bafta. He currently has a seat on the Labor benches in Britain’s House of Lords.  At 68, Puttnam continues to roll with the punches.  As president of Unicef UK, a position he has held since 2002, Puttnam is privy to seeing more of the world than the average person. “Because of my job at Unicef, I get to see things that [others] have never seen. And when you see this stuff, when you are confronted with this stuff, there is a part of me that i s in a permanent state of outrage. Real outrage,” he says, hands clenched in emotion. “Because I see the narrowness and the complicity and the hypocrisy, the terrible hypocrisy of the West. Where they talk globalization, where they talk humanity — and then on the ground, I don’t see it.” The British have a reputation for conformity. But Puttnam, unlike many of his contemporaries in the film industry and politics, is a free thinker. He attributes his pluck to being born in London in February 1941, during the  bombing raids known as the Blitz. “I am not a courageous person. But I don’t suffer from fear. There is a big difference. “Courageous people are people who understand fear and are brave any way. I don’t think I have that. There’s like a piece missing from me. I think when you are born when  bombs are dropping around you and you are still a live, you have a sense of immunity.” Puttnam lives life in a flurry of contradictions. “There are two ‘me’s. There is the internal — very solid, very comfortable. I am very lucky. I get royalties from my movies, etc,” he says. “And then there’s the external me that is always fighting. I mean, I fight in Parliament. I’ve been chairman of the climate change committee, so I’m fighting that. I’ve been fighting energy issues. BBC. Privacy, citizen’s rights. So I am in a permanent state of turmoil. My external state is turmoil. My internal life —  very calm,” Puttnam says. Puttnam grew up in a lovi ng household, with a father — a renowned Fleet Street photographer — he idolized, and a mother he describes as “brave.”  Amid a whirlwind career, Puttnam’s roots are grounded and sincere. He is still with the woman he fell in love with at the age of 20, his wife Patsy. They live on the west coast of Ireland with their t hree children, one of whom they adopted after rescui ng her from a leper colony in her native India. “My external life is confusing in the sense that I have never had a clear set of ambitions,” he says. “But I have always been very determined.  And I have always been a socialist . And it has sort of informed everything.” His nerve and daring have both aided and  jeopardized his career. Following the success of his earlier films, Puttnam was elected chief executive of Columbia Pictures in the late 1980s. Executives had pinned their hopes on Puttnam turning around the ailing studio. But instead of conquering the box office, Puttnam concentrated on stiffening the moral fiber of its movies. Clearly he lacked the money-making mind-set Tinseltown demanded. One year, Puttnam donated the studio’s entire Christmas gift allocation to charity. Pursuing reform, not  box-office gold, he only lasted two years. “I didn’t really want to be there in the first place. The hubris was taking the job. Not failing at it,” he laughs. “I don’t mind losing. A lot of people won’t  battle, won’t fight, because they’re scared to lose.” In 1993, Puttnam established Skillset — a government-funded film-trainee scheme that provides skills and training for the audio-  visual industry in Britain. With British film schools like NFTS focusing on producing, directing and cinematography, Puttnam was concerned there was not enough attention on entry-level industry training. “Because I made movies, I knew that if the focus puller got it wrong, or if the sound recordist got it wrong, we were screwed,” he says. He also observed that teachers were undervalued, and in 1998, he established Britain’s National Teaching Awards. “Not a genius idea,” he says humbly. “On its own it doesn’t change anything  but symbolically it allows teachers to feel they are being valued t he same way as singers or movie stars are valued.” Using his name and contacts as a draw card, he convinced friends such as Jeremy Irons and Helen Mirren to pres ent the teachers’ awards. “It just elevates the whole thing,” he says. Puttnam is also receptive to new id eas. As chairman of the board of trustees and vice president of Bafta he fought for the inclusion of new media. “Most of my colleagues at Bafta said , ‘Well, that’s them — and we are the movies,’ ” Puttnam says. “Bafta is Baf ta only because we were able to get them to change from British Fi lm Academy to British Fi lm and Television Academy. When  you have been around long enough, you see that these things have to happen.” Even so, it was five years before the Baft a council relented and created a new media award. Puttnam believes that, in a world in flux, people must be willing to let go of old assumptions. “What’s the point of saying what you were saying 15 years ago — and the context is no longer relevant,” he says. “But people are frightened of doing that. Somehow it makes them feel insecure. I don’t have those fears. I think that’s the  best thi ng I’ve got going for me,” he says. Puttnam’s biggest hang-up in life is being too comfortable and “believing [his] own rhetoric” “I question myself constantly, ‘Have I got this right? Is there a better way of doing this? Has the world changed in such a way that it is no longer relevant?’ ” If the decades of doing battle on the intellectual front lines have taken their toll on Puttnam, it does not show. “It’s the being angry that makes you tired, the sense of injustice,” he pauses. “And then things happen, like Barack  becoming president. And you think, ‘Hey! I ’ve got to start again.’ ” Puttnam balances his unending fight for  justice with time at home with family in County Cork, Ireland. “My dad took me for a walk, two or three  years before he died. We were in a park walking. I will always remember this. He said to me, ‘You know, if I died tomorrow, I’d have absolutely no regrets. And I wouldn’t want you to be sad because I’ve really had a great, great life.’ ” “And I feel t hat way.”  A British lord, the flm icon and ree thinker  David Putt nam stays true to the dreams o his youth Report Titania Veda ‘I don’t mind losing. A lot o people  won’t battle, won’ t fght, because they’re scared to lose.’ David Puttnam Tollgate Primary School with Lord Puttnam in London for the Teaching Awards 2008. Courtesy of www.teachingawards.com David Puttnam and his wife Patsy with their daughter Rina. EPA Photo/Richard Rayner

Transcript of Lord Puttnam

8/6/2019 Lord Puttnam

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Friday, December 19, 2008 www.thejakartaglobe.com/features Section

 A splash o Indonesian manga artists > Fresh Pastimes C11

 A Lord’s Life,

Lived to the FullLord David Puttnam sits on a wooden bench in Nusa Dua, onBali Island, his pink sockspeeking out from beneathwell-pressed trousers.

With his full white beard andgenerous smile, he has the lookof a jolly grandfather.

“When my dad died, I was clearing up hisstuff. Inside h is desk there was a quote from a George Bernard Shaw play,” he says.

“It said ‘Be true to t he dreams of your youth.’ And I am. I know it may be very inconvenient and some people get cross withme.

“Some of the stuff that I think and feel,people probably think that by now I shouldhave gotten over, but in fact, I haven’t. I amquite the opposite.”

Puttnam, who was in Indonesia as thekeynote speaker for an intellectual property rights conference in Bali, made his nameproducing a string of successful films,

including Oscar winners “Chariots of Fire”and “The Killing Fields.”

Over the years he has also beenchairman of the prestigious NationalFilm Television School and vicepresident and chair of trustees at theBritish Academy of Film and Television

 Arts, or Bafta.He currently has a seat on the

Labor benches in Britain’s House of Lords.

 At 68, Puttnam continues to rollwith the punches.

 As president of Unicef UK, a position he has held since 2002,Puttnam is privy to seeing more of the world than the averageperson.

“Because of my job at Unicef, Iget to see things that [others]have never seen. And when yousee this stuff, when you areconfronted with this stuff,there is a part of me that i sin a permanent state of outrage. Real outrage,”he says, handsclenched in emotion.

“Because I seethe narrowness andthe complicity andthe hypocrisy, theterrible hypocrisy of the West. Where they talk globalization,where they talkhumanity — and then onthe ground, I don’t see it.”

The British have a reputation for conformity. ButPuttnam, unlike many of hiscontemporaries in the film industry and politics, is a free thinker.

He attributes his pluck to being born

in London in February 1941, during the bombing raids known as the Blitz.

“I am not a courageous person. But I don’tsuffer from fear. There is a big difference.

“Courageous people are people whounderstand fear and are brave any way. I don’tthink I have that. There’s like a piece missing from me. I think when you are born when

 bombs are dropping around you and you arestill a live, you have a sense of immunity.”

Puttnam lives life in a flurry of contradictions.

“There are two ‘me’s. There is the internal— very solid, very comfortable. I am very lucky.I get royalties from my movies, etc,” he says.

“And then there’s the external me that isalways fighting. I mean, I fight in Parliament.I’ve been chairman of the climate change

committee, so I’m fighting that. I’ve beenfighting energy issues. BBC. Privacy, citizen’srights. So I am in a permanent state of turmoil.My external state is turmoil. My internal life —

 very calm,” Puttnam says.Puttnam grew up in a lovi ng household,

with a father — a renowned Fleet Streetphotographer — he idolized, and a mother hedescribes as “brave.”

 Amid a whirlwind career, Puttnam’s rootsare grounded and sincere. He is still with thewoman he fell in love with at the age of 20, hiswife Patsy. They live on the west coast of Ireland with their t hree children, one of whomthey adopted after rescui ng her from a lepercolony in her native India.

“My external life is confusing in the sensethat I have never had a clear set of ambitions,”

he says. “But I havealways been very 

determined.

 And I have always been a socialist . And it hassort of informed everything.”

His nerve and daring have both aided and jeopardized his career.

Following the success of his earlier films,Puttnam was elected chief executive of Columbia Pictures in the late 1980s. Executiveshad pinned their hopes on Puttnam turning around the ailing studio. But instead of conquering the box office, Puttnamconcentrated on stiffening the moral fiber of its movies.

Clearly he lacked the money-making mind-set Tinseltown demanded. One year,Puttnam donated the studio’s entire Christmasgift allocation to charity. Pursuing reform, not

 box-office gold, he only lasted two years.“I didn’t really want to be there in the first

place. The hubris was taking the job. Notfailing at it,” he laughs.

“I don’t mind losing. A lot of people won’t battle, won’t fight, because they’re scared tolose.”

In 1993, Puttnam established Skillset — a government-funded film-trainee scheme thatprovides skills and training for the audio-

 visual industry in Britain.

With British film schoolslike NFTS focusing onproducing, directing andcinematography,Puttnam was concernedthere was not enoughattention on entry-levelindustry training.“Because I mademovies, I knew that if 

the focus puller got itwrong, or if the sound

recordist got it wrong, wewere screwed,” he says.

He also observed thatteachers were undervalued, and

in 1998, he established Britain’sNational Teaching Awards.

“Not a genius idea,” he says humbly.“On its own it doesn’t change anything 

 but symbolically it allows teachers tofeel they are being valued t he same way as singers or movie stars are valued.”

Using his name and contacts as a draw card, he convinced friends such as

Jeremy Irons and Helen Mirren to pres ent

the teachers’ awards. “It just elevates thewhole thing,” he says.

Puttnam is also receptive to new ideas. Aschairman of the board of trustees and vicepresident of Bafta he fought for the inclusion of new media.

“Most of my colleagues at Bafta said , ‘Well,that’s them — and we are the movies,’ ”Puttnam says.

“Bafta is Baf ta only because we were able toget them to change from British Fi lm Academy to British Fi lm and Television Academy. When

 you have been around long enough, you seethat these things have to happen.”

Even so, it was five years before the Baft a council relented and created a new media award.

Puttnam believes that, in a world in flux,people must be willing to let go of oldassumptions.

“What’s the point of saying what you weresaying 15 years ago — and the context is nolonger relevant,” he says.

“But people are frightened of doing that.Somehow it makes them feel insecure.

I don’t have those fears. I think that’s the best thi ng I’ve got going for me,” he says.

Puttnam’s biggest hang-up in life is being too comfortable and “believing [his] ownrhetoric”

“I question myself constantly, ‘Have I gotthis right? Is there a better way of doing this?Has the world changed in such a way that it isno longer relevant?’ ”

If the decades of doing battle on theintellectual front lines have taken their toll onPuttnam, it does not show.

“It’s the being angry that makes you tired,the sense of injustice,” he pauses.

“And then things happen, like Barack becoming president. And you think, ‘Hey! I ’vegot to start again.’ ”

Puttnam balances his unending fight for justice with time at home with family inCounty Cork, Ireland.

“My dad took me for a walk, two or three years before he died. We were in a parkwalking. I will always remember this. He saidto me, ‘You know, if I died tomorrow, I’d haveabsolutely no regrets. And I wouldn’t want youto be sad because I’ve really had a great, greatlife.’ ”

“And I feel t hat way.”

JG Photo/Titania Veda

 A British lord, the flm icon and ree thinker 

 David Puttnam stays true to the dreams o his youthReport Titania Veda

‘I don’t mind losing. A lot o people won’t battle, won’t fght, because

they’re scared to lose.’David Puttnam

Tollgate Primary School with Lord Puttnam

in London for the Teaching Awards 2008.Courtesy of www.teachingawards.com 

David Puttnam and his wife Patsy

with their daughter Rina.EPA Photo/Richard Rayner