One rainy Wednesday evening in November, I had dinner in Mayfair, central London, with a successful filmmaker, whom I’ll call Arthur. I thought I had him pinned after the first course of a rather extensive vegetarian tasting menu: a mushroom tea served in a tiny ceramic mug.
Arthur likely grew up in a small village somewhere in the northeast of England. Perhaps his father was a fisherman or worked another blue-collar job? Recognizing his creativity and intelligence early, Arthur likely excelled in his small ‘state’ (public) school and eventually made it to London to study film.