Mr Keith Fortner (3/7) By The Silver Fox

(1/7), (2/7), (3/7), (4/7), (5/7), (6/7), (7/7).

The truth was, however, Keith Fortner had been seduced by moving pictures. Film and television enchanted him; narrative thrilled him; the potential of communicating subtle nuances through the placement of cameras and the timing of a shot was, to him, limitless. Even before enrolling in his studies, he had visited every branch library in his awful, drab community and tracked down every single book on film-making, television production, and dramatic theory they had and read it over and over again.

He spent hours glued to screens of all sizes, hungrily absorbing and assessing shows of all types with eyes, that although critical and questioning, never lost their sense of wonder at the enormity of the force that he hoped one day to work with.

While his contemporaries watched the banter between Tiswas ' Chris Tarrant and Sally James amidst a welter of lurid (and generally biologically uninformed) speculation as to whether or not he was giving her one, Keith marvelled at their jocular by-play's apparent ease and concluded that what was transpiring between them was far more sublime and remarkable than any physical contact could be. Needless to say: he wasn't all that popular. His studies were marked by distinction at every turn; his essays excited keen and occasionally violent debate amidst his tutors and fellow-students, and his final-year dissertation, "Calling A Spade a Spade: The Grim Legacy of Jolson" was, in an unprecedented move, printed in full in Sight and Sound.

But it was his practical work that really commanded the attention of those in the know.

His first feature, made on a nonexistent budget and with a cast comprising three people, sixteen life-sized cardboard cut-outs of Bernard Levin, and a dog with a missing hindfoot, created a genuine stir wherever it was shown - and after its frenzied reception at the college's end-of-year show, it was shown everywhere. His tutor (who cannot be named because excessive research is for swots and girls) wrote:

Mr Fortner's The Canary Sings For You is a remarkable work. This allegory for the dehumanising nature of contemporary culture - a group of autistic children organising a dog-fight in a run-down maternity wing - has, despite the disturbing and bleak message, a clarity and a compassion rarely associated with the more strident works of film-makers of Fortner's age.

The fact that he publicly explains this metaphor while keeping his face straight is equally impressive; it shows, I feel, that he is either genuinely committed to his beliefs, or superbly gifted at justifying his excesses. In either case, he is undoubtedly qualified to join the pantheon of kinematographic greats… But no: my cynicism is base and unjustified.

Continued...Next Page (4/7)

Fiction - Goths in Denim (I only dress like a Goth!) By Jason Ince
	'That can't be the time!' I scream, staring at the clock-slash-radio-slash-CD player. This is the last time I try a DVD marathon within one day, I'll kill Stanny for suggesting it to me. The phone starts to vibrate before the ringtone kicks in. It's Clark's tone...again, 'damn you, Clark!' I charge across the room and leap over the chair and snatch the mobile. Read more...

Fiction - Absinthe - A Cautionary Tale By Sean Davey
	In pursuit of the perfect high, man invented absinthe, and I among others regularly enjoy its powerful effects. But on some days, store-bought brands are far too timid for the task at hand. On these days we need the homemade stuff. Created in garages and lofts, jam packed with wormwood and all those other alpha-terpenes to get the brain synapses into full gear. Read more...

Fiction - Punishment By Nick Quantrill
	Punishment by local crime-fiction writer and thisisull.com contributor, Nick Quantrill, has won a nationwide short-story competition run by HarperCollins. Entrants were invited to submit a story of no more than 1,000 words in the crime-fiction/thriller genre. Here's what the judges had to say about Punishment : 'We were impressed with the use of Read more...

Fiction - Friday Feeling By Nick Quantrill
	Friday 3pm It was building up to being another busy Friday afternoon shift. It was probably no busier than any other shift, but the extra tiredness that Detective Constable Maynard felt by this point made them feel that much longer. He had been sent to Young's general store in East Hull straight after attending a suspicious death over on the other side of the city. It was Read more...

Fiction - The Morning After By Joe Hakim
	They'll be here soon. There's nothing much to do other than wait, so I make another strong cup of coffee and light up another cigarette. Even these seemingly arbitrary actions are cast into a new focus now. This patch of time I'm occupying is a bridge - a bridge that spans the space between the way my life used to be and the way it's going to be. I look around my living room Read more...

Fiction - In A Room By Joe Hakim
	I wish there were bars so I could hold them, wrap my fingers around the cold steel and press my face in between them, but it's just a room, I'm in a dark room with no windows and no features, so I just sit and think and think and think. I am a captive, a hostage in a foreign country. I'm apart from my family and friends and I don't know if I'll ever see them again. Every so Read more...

Fiction - Off To See The Wild West Show Part 2: Prologue (June 1904: Hull, Yorkshire) By Frank Beill
	From the outside the two-storey building looked even more forbidding now than the first time I saw it. Eighteen more years of Hull soot had turned bricks from red to dark brown. The dank smell of Grandmother's skirt returned to me. I caught my breath. So many emotions stirred inside me. Doors in my mind that I'd kept closed for so long were opening again but this time Read more...

Fiction - Buried In The Past By Joe Hakim
	Arriving back in Hull, the first thing that hits me is just how much hasn't changed. As I walk down Princes Ave, I look at all the café bars that have sprang up to replace the odd little shops and businesses that used to line it, but it still feels the same somehow. There's a kind of progress, I suppose - even if progress means it's starting to resemble everywhere else in Britain - Read more...

Fiction - Off To See The Wild West Show Part 21 (1886: Hull, Yorkshire) By Frank Beill
	The extra twenty-four hour wait only made me more desperate than ever to discover what had become of my old friends. It didn't feel right to be back and not be with them. They were Hull to me. I needed to see them and for them to see me. Would they believe little Sammy could have grown so much? Would I be as tall as George now? My friends were all I wanted Read more...

Fiction - Red Carpet Blues By Steve Rudd
	'One more word out of you, and it'll be your last - I promise.' The ice-cold gun nudging Ellie's temple was motivation enough for her to keep her mouth shut, as she trembled with fear. She daren't even sob in case her captor construed that any form of noise was reason enough to blow her brains out without further ado. So much for being a superstar in her own right, Read more...

Fiction - Off To See The Wild West Show Part 20 (1886: Hull, Yorkshire) By Frank Beill
	The deck rose and fell beneath my feet. My moccasins were meant for the solid earth of the Dakotas, not a slippery wooden deck in an Atlantic storm. I continued focusing on the infant pony and repeated all the psalms and hymns I could recall. Words that were drilled into me. I never thought they'd ever be of any use, other than to avoid Jolly Rodgers' Read more...

Fiction - 'I Do' By Steve Rudd
	Nobody told me marriage would be like this. I thought it would be bliss, day in and day out, but problems soon surfaced, after our hastily arranged elopement in good old Gretna - that bizarre little settlement that straddles the border between England and Scotland as though it can't quite decide where it stands; where it belongs; which side of the metaphorical fence it is Read more...

Fiction - Two Sides : A Friday Night Out In Hull By Joe Hakim
	I'm just finishing off at work, watching the clock and loading the pot-wash with plates and cups, waiting for Sarah to start her shift so I can go home. It's been a really busy day, so I'll be glad to see the back of the fuckin' place. I've been working at Sparks cafè bar on Newland Ave for over a year, but it's only been in the past couple of months it's got really busy. Fridays are Read more...

Fiction - Off To See The Wild West Show Part 19 (1886: Hull, Yorkshire) By Frank Beill
	Was it my imagination or were dark clouds hanging over the Persian Monarch the next morning? I feared the worst. Heavy feet climbed the wooden steps to my hero's saloon. As before Red Shirt, Dog That Stands and Laughing Waters were there in support of my case. We entered the cabin and my spirits rose. Nate Salsbury wasn't there and Miss Arta was Read more...

Fiction - Complicity Part 6 By Nick Quantrill
	Complicity is the new crime-fiction novella set in Hull featuring Detective Sergeant Coleman and Detective Constable Maynard. The thisisull.com serialisation is accompanied by the stunning black and white photography of Roland Standaert, which illustrates the story and takes a unique look at the city. Complicity and other stories are available for free. Read more...

Fiction - Gloomy Sunday By Joe Hakim
	As we got closer I could see it framed against the horizon. From this distance it just looked like a huge black shape, like a giant lump of coal or something. "Jeezus, it's huge," I said. "Yeah, I'm guessing it's a male," Mike said. "Could be about fifty tonnes of whale washed up down there." Mike was a marine biologist. He'd been given the task of studying Read more...