Parallel Montage

In 1975, I travelled to Namibia with two colleagues, Peter S and Kate M, for the purpose of covertly filming a documentary for SWAPO the liberation movement, conducting a struggle against South African occupation. Kate was the director and Peter and I were responsible for shooting the film; he and I had been working together for a couple of years prior to this. We eventually completed the film. It was distributed by SWAPO and fulfilled their needs, at that time; it was shown at the Edinburgh Film festival that year. Kate was later injured in a serious car accident and became wheelchair-bound. Over the years, she and I maintained occasional contacts, when I would go and visit her, but I completely lost contact with Peter. Every year or two, Kate would contact me with some development relating to new interest in the film, which held very little appeal for me but I knew to be important for her. In the late nineties - and I would have to check exactly when this occurred - Kate phoned me to say that the National Film Archive was interested in viewing a print of our film to decide whether they wished to introduce it into the archive. I agreed to cycle up to her home in North London, collect the print and deliver it to the NFA near Goodge Street. Having brought it there, I sat in on the viewing and discussed with them their decision. Eventually I agreed to leave the print with them and I cycled on down into Soho, on my way to meet my wife and a friend in Chinatown. I cycled down Greek Street and crossed Old Compton Street and just as I continued down towards Shaftesbury Avenue, a figure came up to the curb, almost stepping in front of me. Out of the corner of my eye a glimpsed a face that seemed familiar, so jammed on my brakes and looked back over my shoulder. There stood Peter S, whom I hadn't seen for more than 15 years, who was now living in Paris and had come to London on an unlikely trip to visit a friend of his. For him, it was a surprising encounter, but for me, knowing the background to my being there at that moment, it had all the trappings of the uncanny.