Reflections at Christmas:

Mark Anthony
Dec 10
2 min read

Studying Producing for Film & Television.

By Mark Anthony

As I approach the end of my first semester on the MA in Producing for Film & Television at Teesside University, it feels like a good moment to pause — to take stock of what I’ve learned, how my understanding has shifted, and where this journey is leading. Christmas is often a natural point for reflection, and this year that feels especially true.

In just a few months I’ve been introduced to a wide range of texts and perspectives that trace the evolution of the producer’s role. I’ve explored how cinema has reshaped itself across decades, how technological change continually redefines what’s possible, and how global filmmaking now offers a broader, richer tapestry of voices than ever before. Film is no longer the domain of a few gatekeepers. It has become a truly international art form — one that communities around the world are using to reclaim stories, challenge systems, and express identity.

And yet, as the industry expands, it also undergoes profound disruption.

We’re witnessing a shift unlike anything since the rise of digital filmmaking.

Power is moving away from institutions and towards audiences. Decisions are being shaped not just in boardrooms but through interactions online — in views, shares, discussions, and collective moments of attention. Film today is influenced as much by connection as by commerce.

The old studio model of “bigger budgets mean better films” is no longer a sustainable truth. Smaller, cleaner, more focused production models are emerging, and in many ways independent producers are now at the front of the change. It’s both exciting and daunting. But it confirms something I’ve always believed: creativity flourishes when the constraints are real, and when the vision is rooted in authenticity.

Through all this change, one thing remains constant:

our human need to connect.

To belong somewhere.

To understand the places that shaped us.

To share what it feels like to be alive — with all its memory, uncertainty, sadness, and hope.

Stories are how we do that.

Whether it’s a film, a conversation, a photograph, or even a symbol on a screen — stories are the way we bridge distances, make sense of change, and find meaning in the noise of everyday life. They are the currency we’ve traded since the earliest fires were lit on the moors.

What I hope to build through Nidd Films, and what this MA is helping me refine, is a practice grounded in that sense of connection — not abstract but human, rooted in real landscapes, real archives, and real histories. I believe the stories we choose to tell can help us understand who we are and what we value in a world that is shifting fast. And I believe that stories tied to specific places, especially places like Yorkshire, can resonate far beyond their borders.

As this first semester ends, I’m grateful — for the learning, the challenge, the clarity, and the reminder that storytelling is not an escape from the world, but a way deeper into it.

More reflections, and more news about Sweetheart and the Nidd Films slate, will follow in the new year.