Rob Inglis

Mr Postlethwaite's Stand In
crew_generic storyboards or animation
Location:
London, UK
Day job:
Artistic director, Musical Flying Squad
Dream job:
Implementing fully funded “Cultural Interchange at King’s Cross”
Film:
The Age of Stupid
Time on the job:
Bleary hours plus script to study immediately before 2 shoots
Jet, jeep, bus or bike:
Buses and ski stocks
Original connection:
Gillian Hall told Franny to recycle me
Memorable moment:
After screening of Pete complete version, compliment from a funder: “Your pilot version influenced me”
Scared of:
Watching the rear-view mirror, trying to make yesterday come true.
Guilty of:
Crying over spilt milk, as seas wash over Bangladesh..
Planning to spend profits on:
Exchanging more than trains at King’s Cross.

Biography:

Rob played the role of the Archivist in early versions of the film. He coped admirably with the tense filming situations, usually conducted the night before we were due to show someone important the film, and especially well with not getting the script before recording his lines. Although he would have played the lead if asked he was honoured to be the stand in actor for Pete Postlethwaite. Some poems and song lyrics written by Rob Inglis are below. Bonanza You mustn’t miss the motorway bonanza jump off that lumbering bus and creaking train Just smell the money mixing with the concrete investment’s cooking on the motorways. Take your place, get in the stream, no red lights, we keep them green. So take the M1 going south from London we’ll widen that for just five point one billions. The same amount would buy five thousand railcars or cycle tracks four times around the globe. Going by car - is getting cheap, bus and train cost more each week. You’ve got to join us on the Roads to Ruin we are priority, the chosen route, a thousands pounds an inch is what we’re spending for one lane on the M6 motorway, that’s twice our yearly aid to Africa, the money’s spent more wisely here. We Bishops of the Highway advise the Transport Board, so Waterways and Railways are only faintly heard, We loudly sing “More Highways” to which they sing “Amen”, so we can maker our fortune and build you: Roads to Ruin, there’s no way off, the traffic honks behind, there are no exits and just one direction, a slippery surface and a downhill spiral, and the bonanza has to grow, we’ll soon lay ten lanes lined with gold. And the bonanza has to grow, we’ll soon lay ten lanes lined with gold! 'Roads to Ruin' by Rob Inglis