Losing It?

Paul Watson is the producer of the documentary, 'Malcolm and Barbara: Love's Farewell'. This film is an account of the effects of Alzheimers on Malcolm Pointon, a composer who died in his early 50s of the disease.

Controversy erupted recently over whether we ­ the 'public' ­ had been manipulated into thinking that we were to see the actual moment of Malcolm Pointon's death, when in fact this happened two days after the final film shot. A radio interview with Watson at the height of the row was both emotionally compelling and fascinating.

His passion and despair were palpable, as was his commitment to the subject of his documentary. He reflected on the nature of film-making, the God-like power of the editor to create his (in this case) version of reality, and the moral dangers and methodological challenges inherent in that. He talked of the process by which he had become close to the Pointons over the eleven years from diagnosis to Malcolm's death, and he spoke of what happened when the final scene of the film was shot. Finally, he spoke with anger and sadness about how the furore (driven, in his opinion, by external events in media politics) had completely ruined the whole project for him, and had diverted its focus away from Alzheimers (about which he was aiming to raise awareness) and onto the subject of death. This was, for him, eleven years of work down the drain: a contamination and violation of his artistic endeavour.

Anyone who has put their heart and soul into a creative project, only to face the loss of it, will recognise the depth and nature of Watson's emotional response. Any final product (whether it be a book, a play, a song, a garden, a painting) represents a mere fraction of the labour, and a mere hint at the whole process by which it was brought about. The best products take years to come to fruition. That is why the loss of something one has invested in over years (emotionally, mentally, physically, spiritually, psychologically ­ and usually a combination of all of these) runs so deep.

We saw it in the eyes of those whose houses, gardens or crops were ruined by the floods, and in the face of the farmer whose pedigree herd was slaughtered in the latest tragic outbreak of Foot and Mouth. The loss runs so deep because the process of investment shapes one's identity. We take time over activities because we care deeply about them. We express our care by paying attention, and that changes who we are. What we lose, then, isn't just the final product, but part of ourselves.

Alison Webster is Social Responsibility Adviser to Oxford Diocese