Storytelling as quiet resistance. Using creative documentary to protect a wild place.
- 6 days ago
- 4 min read
“It worked you know. We actually sent a link of the film around to everybody on the committee before that final planning meeting. And it was one of the things that swayed them to stop the development."
Nancy and I had been trying to catch up for months, and finally sat down for a coffee. We hadn’t seen each other since finishing the film over a year before, and I wanted to chat about what impact there’d been behind the scenes. Nancy works for the National Trust and in late 2023, got in touch about a story - set on a tiny pocket of land on the west coast of Cumbria called Sandscale Haws.
I knew the film had been impactful, but her comment took me by surprise. As is the case with many freelance creatives, I’d finished the film and moved onto the next piece of work - because you often have to to make a living. I’m also guilty of throwing myself into the creative process, and hiding from praise that might come afterwards. The film had clearly made it’s mark though, and I was thrilled.
Storytelling is fundamental to what we understand and love about the world and each other (big statement I know… but I’m gonna stick by it). However, the power and impact of a well crafted story can be difficult to quantify. For better or worse, there’s an activist in me that infiltrates almost everything I do, and I want my films not only to create value and return for the brands and organisations I work with, but radiate some good out into the world.
In 2024, the National Trust celebrated 40yrs as custodians of Sandscale Haws (or Roanhead as it’s known to locals). Over the decades the land had been used by the military, then as a brick works, and for the last four decades - cherished and protected for it’s flora and fauna. Generations of local people were deeply connected to the place. Children played there, then took their children and grandchildren as they grew older.
At the time, there was a planning application being rushed through to build a 233 lodge holiday park on the northern boundary of the SSSI - and it would have a destructive impact on Sandscale Haws. The already fragile ecosystem couldn’t sustain such a massive ongoing increase in visitors. Nancy asked me to be creative - to honour the ecosystem and wild space at Sandscale, but show how important it was to the people who went there. The people were important. We’re social animals, and we learn by observing and connecting with the lives of others around us - by going on a journey with them and feeling what they feel.
In our chat, Nancy went on to say - "We knew from the beginning that the film wouldn’t mention the development - it didn't need to mention it. The film just needed to show people why the development shouldn't happen.”
From the beginning it was important for me to find local people who had a deeper connection to the place than I did. I’d visited Sandscale and loved it, but I hadn’t realised at the time how rare and nationally significant it was, or what it meant to the locals. I spoke to rangers, dog walkers, volunteers and naturalists, before we settled on the characters that would support the story. I also asked Nancy, who knew the place so well, to help shape the narrative and write the voice-over with me. My friend Simon spent a day in the dunes and wrote a beautiful poem for the start, and Wayne Scurrah recorded a soundscape.
I’m immensely proud of the film, the approach we took, and the impact it went on to have. It was shared through LinkedIn by people in the most senior roles at the National Trust, and in conservation circles more widely. It was screened at local cinemas, events and national festivals. More importantly though, it struck a chord with people who knew the place intimately. People with lived experience, and a vested interest in keeping Sandscale Haws safe for future generations. Because we didn’t mention the development, the film wasn’t locked in a particular place in time, and continues to be relevant to anyone who wants to seek it out.
I must credit the Save Roanhead campaign here, who tireless campaigned to bring attention, and engage public and policy makers. Grass roots activism is still so vital within our communities - https://www.saveroanhead.com
Nancy Burditt again - “the film needed to be about how people connect with a place and what that place means to them, no matter how big or small. It was like - we all know this place is really special and powerful, but how do we say that? I felt like the film helped show and demonstrate how powerful Sandscale is, in a way people hadn't quite articulated before.”
Storytelling helps us build a clearer, richer, more nuanced picture of the things that mean something to us. It helps us understand what to push against, and what to celebrate and uphold. ‘A Home on the Sand’ was an an act of resistance, wrapped in a celebration. Our focus was never to rack up millions of views online - but to deepen people’s understanding of what was at stake.
You can watch ‘A Home on the Sand’ here, and I hope you enjoy it.
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