A Fistful of Firsts
Arguably the original Muirhouse rebel, Garry Fraser’s life story makes for shocking reading. From the depths of deprivation to working alongside Danny Boyle, we salute the poster boy for a life transformed – and hear what really goes on behind the scenes.
words – rachel arthur
location – edinburgh, scotland
photography – disa hökenström
location – gagnef, sweden
Garry Fraser is trying avocado for the first time, aged 37. For the award winning film director and social entrepreneur, this is a year of many firsts; some of them more challenging than others.
Famed for directing the “real life Trainspotting,” Fraser made his name by baring his scorched soul to the world in all of its dark, damaged, shocking truth. A million miles from “fellow” Hollywood hits, ‘Everybody’s Child’ tells Fraser’s story in an unforgiving light – exposing the true depths of deprivation, ostracism and hopelessness felt by many born into Edinburgh’s 1980s HIV epidemic. At its worst, the city was infamously dubbed the “AIDS capital of Europe,” with 51% of the drug dependent population testing positive for HIV. The usual suspects feature dominantly throughout the 2014 documentary – drugs, violence, lies and a distinct lack of opportunity. But there too are glimmers of hope: the sense of community felt within the Muirhouse estate; the strength of family, whether chosen or bound by blood.
Arguably, Fraser’s family are the driving force anchoring him to the straight and narrow; and yet, being a good father to his four young children is often one of his biggest struggles. Brought up by an all too absent father, an austere mother and a string of abusive stepparents, Fraser has little quality childhood experience to draw upon. Where the lucky few can happily reminisce over childhood tales of family holidays and homely Christmases, Fraser’s experience is somewhat removed: replace the holidays with being kicked into the school playground, alone, at 6:30am every morning, swap the Christmas traditions for physical abuse involving cigarettes, table legs and belts and you begin to see a truer recollection. Top that off with being passed from pillar to post in 36 different care homes and you have yourself a rather toxic mix. Luckily, in the face of utmost adversity, Fraser is the first to look to creativity as an outlet; after all, as he claims, it saved him. Years into a dangerously crippling drug habit, with multiple unspeakably violent attacks to his name, it was the act of picking up a film camera which helped Fraser take his first steps onto the road to recovery. With a new family in tow, the now notorious drug dealer was faced with a life changing choice – continue on the current path, bringing up the next generation amidst the chaotic crossroads of drugs and violence; or find the strength to fly in the face of adversity and choose the path less trodden.
Luckily for all concerned, Fraser has never been afraid to do things differently. Turning his back on the old way of life, it was with guts and gusto that he charged forth into the heady world of film; not that he ever forgot where he came from. Raw, edgy and almost frighteningly real, the filmmaker’s early work is a direct reflection of the events of his past. Overdoses, stabbings and substance abuse are recurring themes, all taking place in the stomping grounds of Fraser’s youth and starring the peers he cut his teeth alongside.
Luckily for all concerned, Fraser has never been afraid to do things differently. Turning his back on the old way of life, it was with guts and gusto that he charged forth into the heady world of film; not that he ever forgot where he came from. Raw, edgy and almost frighteningly real, the filmmaker’s early work is a direct reflection of the events of his past. Overdoses, stabbings and substance abuse are recurring themes, all taking place in the stomping grounds of Fraser’s youth and starring the peers he cut his teeth alongside.
When I first meet the man himself in 2015, giving a talk on his life to date, such works are spoken of as much hallowed feats; from humble beginnings, the original Muirhouse rebel valiantly blazes forth to become the poster child for a life transformed. BAFTAs, MTV Awards and a taster of the “celebrity” lifestyle all feature heavily. With multiple BBC commissions and a collaboration with Irvine Welsh on the horizon, the future was undeniably bright. Behind the scenes, however, the truth could not have been further removed.
In late 2015, Fraser was residing in a homeless shelter in Leith. His living quarters consisted of a bedroom with a single bed, small wardrobe and sink; and a communal bathroom and kitchen. Every wall was magnolia, stained with various arrays of cigarette smoke, dirt and blood. Echoes of fellow dwellers, both present and past, leaked from the paper thin walls. A pinboard in the corridor displayed various rules, regulations and warnings – over which were plastered a plethora of posters, notes and requests. A small, somewhat crumpled piece of paper bore a short handwritten poem of hope; scrawled after the last line were the words “good work- keep it up! G.”
“continue on the current path, bringing up the next generation amidst the chaotic crossroads of drugs and violence; or find the strength to fly in the face of adversity and choose the path less trodden”
Following a complex relationship breakdown, last year saw Fraser suddenly homeless, a single parent for the first time. In spite of his great success and undeniable talent, the oppression and doom of his past were all too often an unshakable spectre. For every step forward there were too often two steps backwards; the much craved finish line always in sight yet seemingly unreachable. Too frequently, the obstacle in the way was bureaucracy; a massive barrier to overcome with a past such as Fraser’s. In spite of his highly successful inner city arts projects, he was unsuccessful in an application for a role advising young filmmakers – with the reasoning cited being “a lack of experience.” Regularly wheeled out as any combination of project, Scottish success story or work in progress, his attendance at black tie events skyrocketed following the release of ‘Everybody’s Child’ – but with little to no associated benefits received. Securing a meeting with one of Scotland’s top investment heavyweights, it briefly appeared there was light at the end of the tunnel; four meetings later, the red tape becomes only more impenetrable.
And yet, in spite of the flurry of setbacks, 2016 soon became the year the pendulum yet again swung for Fraser. With the latest Irvine Welsh collaboration and the BBC commissions simmering away pleasingly on the back burner, it was a phone call in early February which truly signalled a change in pace. An unrecognised number, Fraser answered the call somewhat absentmindedly – only to be met with the voice of critically acclaimed director Danny Boyle. He wanted to come to Fraser’s office, and he wanted advice.
And so it came to be that Fraser found himself, for the first time, leading a workshop with one of his ultimate heroes watching on from the sidelines. I had expected Boyle to guide the evening’s events, to take charge and step up to the directorial plate on offer as star of the show. In reality, he entered proceedings halfway through, without fanfare or introduction. Sitting quietly amongst the onlookers, there were no interjections, suggestions or help given. All became acutely clear: Boyle was here to learn from Fraser, not the other way round. And it is little wonder – to view Fraser in this state is truly to see a master at his craft, seamlessly creating atmosphere when needed, guiding action when required and shaping story when necessary. To sit in on a Fraser production is to see the art of storytelling in its purest form; all airs, graces and pretences left at least five doors down.
So impressed was Boyle with what he witnessed, it wasn’t long before he was back in touch. Under the pretense of assisting Fraser with job applications, a meeting was arranged. What was on offer, however, was much more than CV advice; as the conversation flowed, it wasn’t long before the director of ‘Shallow Grave,’ ‘The Beach’ and ‘127 Hours’ cut to the chase. He was on the hunt for a second unit director for ‘T2: Trainspotting,’ and Fraser was top of the list. With a food bank voucher in his back pocket and single digits in his bank account, the newly appointed protégé accepted in a heartbeat; a week later, he was on set for his first day in the director’s chair.
From the beginning, Fraser was told the role would be no bouquet of roses – yet the physical and emotional strain of being thrown into one of the most eagerly anticipated sequels of our time with no prior experience of the like was all too easy to underestimate. Without the means to provide his own transport, Fraser was up with the larks to catch the first train to the studio – often not making it home until the early hours when it would soon be time to hit repeat all over again. Juggling a hectic filming schedule with ‘The Grey Area’ rehearsals, applications to set up a Community Interest Company and a full time role as a loving father soon took its toll and it wasn’t long before life as a second unit director became exhausting – not that this version of events was ever to become public knowledge. To the outside world, there was always sunshine on Leith, with an ongoing stream of social media posts, interviews and podcasts to prove just so.
Such punishing schedules were made bearable thanks to the incredible experience gained on set – working side by side with industry heavyweights such as Danny Boyle and Anthony Dod Mantle is the kind of opportunity most could only dream of, never mind imagine falling into their lap. And yet, Fraser’s biggest takeaway had little to do with cinematography, filmic references or creative visualisation; instead, it was a much more human element which was to become engrained in his working manner thanks to his time in the role: compassion. The art of tapping into what makes us tick, what unites us and smashes through the barriers which are so often placed between us has long been one of the great democratising qualities of cinema, and it was present in bounds under the wing of Boyle and Dod Mantle.
Their ability to remove all forms of judgement from a project allows them to approach the conundrum of filmmaking with a true inquisitiveness and interest, never losing sight of the veritable magic of the art. Such a sense of solicitude and genuine empathy helped steer the whole T2 project, trickling down from director to runner. Similar skill and understanding is already resonant in Fraser’s work; as ‘The Grey Area’ takes shape he could do no better than to continue with the same directorial chutzpah. The end goal for the project is a complex, interwoven web series to showcase Scotland’s true heart and challenge modern film distribution – a fight all too appealing for any director to pass up. Undeniably, it’s a challenging aim for a solo, relatively inexperienced filmmaker; and our hero has an all too worrying fatal flaw. Having lost more family, friends, peers and heroes than most of us can even begin to comprehend, Fraser lives under the constant tyranny of survivor’s guilt. Whilst launching himself into a life of potential success, prominence and prosperity, he struggles to justify his deserving of such when so many loved ones are unable to even cheer him on. Consistently doubtful of his warranting of support, success or good fortune, Fraser is quick to shut out those willing to help. And yet, the further he advances down his current path, the more apparent it becomes that this journey is not best suited to solo travel. Effortlessly juggling the worlds of his undeniable past and his promising future is no mean feat, but whether Fraser comes to realise this and finally break down the walls so resolutely built over three decades is anyone’s guess. For his sake, I’m hopeful; after all, there’s a first time for everything.
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