What drew you to this story for your first feature?
I didn’t really have a choice! (laughs) Filmmaking has always been a passion of mine, and it’s what I went to university to study, but I’ve never actually worked in the industry. When this opportunity came along, I was working in a shop – a camera shop, so I suppose I was on the edge of the industry, but it was a no-brainer. I quit my job and threw myself into what eventually became The Two of Us.
On a narrative level, what struck me was the human element. At its core, this is a film about hope, perseverance, and finding light in the darkest moments. Those are themes everyone can relate to. What happened to Elle on Christmas Eve was truly tragic, and I really admire Tim for being able to face that void and come out the other side. I’m truly honoured he trusted me with his story, and I can only hope that I’ve done it justice. I’m glad to be part of his mission to keep Elle’s name alive.
What was your approach to capturing such raw, intimate moments?
First and foremost, I had the privilege of working with two incredibly open people. John and Tim aren’t afraid to bare their souls, which made everything easier. But ultimately, it all comes down to trust. If your subject trusts you, they won’t be afraid to show their true selves. How you earn that trust will vary from person to person, but for us, I think it came from creating a relaxed, enjoyable environment. It might sound odd given the subject matter, but we genuinely had a laugh every day. That created a real sense of togetherness. There was no divide between subject and crew – we were a team.
On a practical level, the film uses three types of footage. One is vlog material from the walk itself, which I had no influence on. The others are traditional interviews and scenes where John and Tim revisit key locations. It was in those revisits that we captured many of the most honest moments. Being back in those places helped them reconnect with the emotions they felt during the walk. I didn’t treat those like interviews, more like conversations. I’d give them a gentle prompt, then let them talk. What you see in the film might be a two-minute scene, but the real conversation could have lasted 30 or 40 minutes. And honestly, most of it was gold. You could release it as a podcast series and it would still work.
What was your approach to cinematography?
The look of the film really came out of practicality. The project began after John and Tim had already completed their walk, so I wasn’t able to follow them during the journey. What I did have, though, was a wealth of vlog footage.
The problem with vlog footage is, well… it’s vlog footage. Most of it is just someone’s face held at arm’s length. You could definitely edit it into a version that tells the story from A to B, but that wasn’t the approach I wanted to take.
So I looked at what I had: this raw, handheld phone footage, and I decided to make the interviews look as polished as possible to contrast with it. That contrast would actually make the vlog clips feel even more raw and real. I used the interviews to tell the main story, and treated the vlog content as a kind of seasoning on top.
But I still felt something was missing. Interviews are great for shaping the narrative, but they don’t always give you those intimate, emotional moments. This is a story about two vulnerable men who leaned on each other, and I wanted to capture that on screen. That’s what led to the idea of revisiting locations from the walk. Visually, I wanted those scenes to sit somewhere between the vlog footage and the interviews. They’re shot with care but aren’t overproduced. They feel raw, but not amateurish. The goal was to give the viewer the feeling of being on that journey, even though it was all filmed afterwards.
So in the end, the film has a three-tier visual approach. And considering we got nominated for Best UK Cinematography at Raindance, I think it was the right call.
What were the biggest creative challenges during production?
In some ways, the challenges we faced actually became our strengths. I know that sounds like a cliché job interview answer, but it’s true. Both myself and John (producer), were first-time filmmakers, so we were learning as we went. When you’re new to something, you seek advice from everywhere, and a lot of it can be conflicting. You’re constantly figuring out what to take on board and what to ignore.
Early on, we kept hearing that we needed to pre-sell the film or get a broadcaster to commission it. But realistically, who was going to take a chance on two lads from Liverpool with no track record? I like to think I’ve got a bit of that punk rock DIY attitude. We could either wait around for permission, or just get out there and make it. And I think that decision actually worked in our favour. People in the industry saw us pushing forward on our own and started rooting for us.
Of course, the biggest challenge was money. The budget was just over £100,000, which sounds like a lot to working people like us, but it doesn’t go far in the film world. We had to be efficient and wear multiple hats. For most of the shoot, I was directing and operating a camera. It wasn’t until the final four-day block, when we filmed the main interviews, that we could afford to bring in someone else so I could focus solely on directing. And honestly, I loved it. In those final days, I really felt like I’d found my stride.
What do you hope audiences take away from The Two of Us?
Storytelling, and art in general, really has one goal – to connect with people and get an emotional response. But I also hope this film opens up a wider discussion about mental health, how we cope with trauma, and ultimately inspires people. I hope it shows that no matter how bad things can get, there are always better days ahead.
There’s a lot of talk about ending the stigma around mental health, especially when it comes to men, and I believe the best way to do that is by leading by example. This film shows two working-class Northern men, the type of people who aren’t usually shown fully expressing their emotion, speaking candidly about their hardships. They are open and honest with each other, and as a result, with the audience too.
Around the time we started this project, I saw an interview with Kevin Smith where he talked about his own trauma and therapy. He said he didn’t want to speak up because he felt his traumas were “small” compared to others. But what he learned in therapy stuck with me throughout this whole production: trauma is trauma. It doesn’t matter what caused it, the human body reacts in the same way.
That idea shaped how we portrayed John and Tim. Tim has experienced the worst pain imaginable – the loss of a child. Compared to that, John’s struggles might seem small, but I didn’t want to invalidate them. It would have been easy to portray John as someone who came along and pulled Tim out of the darkness through laughter and friendship, but that would’ve felt too saccharine. It wouldn’t have been real.
By showing both of these men recognising each other’s struggles and helping one another through honesty, I hope people watching will feel like their own struggles are valid too, no matter how big or small. Trauma is trauma.