The making of In My Own Words: Alison Lapper

When Victoria Holden, founder of Chalk Productions, rang me to ask if I’d be interested in making a film with Alison Lapper, I was immediately intrigued.

Like many others I’d watched Alison bring up her son, Parys, on the BBC series Child of Our Time, which documented the lives of babies born at the turn of the new millennium.

I’d followed their story ever since. It had been heart-breaking to hear about Parys’ struggles with mental health and his death by accidental overdose at the age of 19. Understandably, Alison had retreated from the public eye in the years since.

Alison, an artist – who was born without arms and shortened legs – had famously modelled naked and pregnant for Marc Quinn. The subsequent 3.5 metre, 13-ton sculpture caused all kinds of controversy when it was unveiled on the Fourth Plinth in Trafalgar Square in the mid 00s. When I first met Alison to properly discuss the project, I mentioned having studied Quinn’s statue at school. She looked at me quizzically, brow suddenly furrowed, “Oh I hate it when people say that. It makes me feel…very old” before crackling into an infectious laugh at my clearly worried expression.

Alison, I learnt quickly, loved to laugh. We got on well after that.

The film is part of In My Own Words, a new BBC Arts strand featuring leading British cultural figures looking back at their lives and career through intimate, unmediated first-person interviews intertwined with archive and actuality.

It was clear from the earliest meetings with BBC Arts, that they wanted to allow the creative space for each film to fully explore the artistic, inner life of their protagonist without adhering too rigidly to a format. The freedom was liberating, as it meant we could properly follow aspects of Alison’s present-day life, allowing for a more meaningful interplay between the interviews, the actuality and the archive she would watch.

The collecting, watching and cataloguing of the archive featuring Alison was an immense task for our small production team.

It involved Victoria the exec negotiating with a Danish documentary maker who filmed with Alison over many years; and me hunting for months to finally recover the rushes of the last time the BBC Child of Our Time team filmed with Parys, aged 16. Among the footage was super 8 film of Alison as a baby, filmed when she was in care, and a never-before-broadcast interview with Alison’s birth mother. It was a treasure trove, but as I watched more and more, there was a growing sense of unease.

As documentary makers we talk a lot about the catharsis of speaking out, the power of sharing your story. I was excited for Alison to tell her story in her own words, especially as so much of the archive about her life included outdated (often offensive) language and (always) male narrators.

Yet showing a contributor archive of themselves, some of which they haven’t seen for years or rushes they may have never seen before, in some ways steps beyond them telling their story. There is an element of surprise necessary for authentic, meaningful reactions, yet there is danger that hand of the producer can feel very heavy.

I vividly remember watching the archive of Parys being born for the first time and feeling my throat catch. There is something so deeply sad about watching this beautiful baby enter the world, slowly growing up, becoming an intelligent, playful and funny boy, who is so clearly loved by his mother, and knowing what happened.

It made me question at times if this was the right thing to do.

It helped that during filming Alison was already looking back through her own artistic practice, preparing new work for an exhibition about Parys. We followed these preparations for the film and I wanted the experience of watching the archive to become a purposeful part of that journey. I wanted to find a way of purposefully navigating the rawness of a mother’s grief, to search back through the past and find meaning in the present.

The interview questions and selections of archive to show Alison were carefully planned, and in some instances, talked through with her beforehand. We ensured there was appropriate psychological support in place for Alison throughout the filming. The interview days were spread out, allowing for time to pass between shoots (and hairstyles to change, for those beady eyed viewers). This elongated schedule involved a small editorial team and working part time over many months to make the budget work.

When the time came to show Alison the footage of Parys being born, despite lengthy discussions, I remained nervous.

It’s one of the most addictive/wonderful/terrible things about making documentaries that you never know exactly what is going to happen. I held my breath; I pressed play and Alison…smiled.

It was then I realised it wasn’t a film about grief at all, it is a film about a mother’s love for her son.