A TRIBUTE TO JESS SEARCH
I’m so shocked, saddened and, to be honest, a little distraught at the sudden death of Jess Search. I didn’t even know she was sick and then found out in passing, during a work call, that she passed away from a brain tumour. I trod water for the rest of the call, something about the legalities of a contract, whilst my thoughts were obviously elsewhere.
Jess was a former commissioning editor at Channel 4, a producer of documentaries, a creator of film festivals and the architect of various schemes, platforms, initiatives and funding models through which idiosyncratic film-makers could thrive and fantastic stories could be told. I think she was one of Britain’s great talent spotters - you need only look at the list of successful directors who got to cut their teeth because Jess gave them their first break. She also had an eye for great stories and, more awesome still, an eye for ordinary stories that could be told with greatness.
Jess was also cool as fuck. And she was kind. And generous. And insanely smart. And she was on the side of artists. Yet at the same time she knew how to operate in the adult world in ways that we don’t. And it felt like she actually did it for us. I think she just wanted good shit to be in the world. I’ve never known someone in a commissioning role who seemed to understand and empower talent like Jess. She was never dictatorial in her notes. She never had to be: her notes were always brilliant. Above all - she didn’t want to dilute or get in the way of a film-maker’s individual voice. This shouldn’t be a rarity. But it is.
If I cry at her passing I can only imagine the foothills of grief her friends, family and close colleagues will have to traverse before they arrive at another hill or two.
But I’m certain that ultimately, any loss and pain they feel will be more than compensated for by the life-enhancing gain they’ll have had - and will continue to have - for having had someone like Jess in their lives.
I send them all my love and wish them a future full of celebrations and joy.
Like so many others, Jess gave me my first break in showbusiness. I was introduced to her after I managed to wangle a meeting with a comedy commissioner at Channel 4. This was the first time I’d ever had any contact with the TV world. The commissioner didn’t want to do anything with my stuff. But I mentioned to them that I’d always wanted to make a film about a local eccentric who’d wander around my then neighborhood in his underpants. The commissioner called Jess over. And it was she - she and the world of documentary who saw something in me and took a shot. She offered to give me £1000 there and then.
Can you imagine??
Someone offered to give ME money to make something??
ME?
Me who’d made nothing and knew no one?
Someone real was actually going to let me be a real person who makes art for a living?
That £1000 went towards a camera I bought. I got hold of some dodgy editing software. A friend taught me the basics. And I went out and made a lo-fi film with enthusiasm, joy and all the youthful excitement of a kid who’d just made a thousand quid and was now a filmmaker.
How many filmmakers out there have had this same experience with Jess?
How many people effectively had Jess open the door to a career in the arts saying: “Come in, this is your home as much as anyone elses.”
Jess happily introduced me to anyone. She got me a couple more lo-fi documentary gigs. She introduced me to another comedy commissioner which ultimately led to my first comedy work voicing the cartoon Modern Toss. She also put me forward to be part of some magazine feature in order to help build my profile. On top of this, Jess and her business partner Cath Le Couteur, (who I also love forever), hired me to work as a moderator for Shooting People - an industry bulletin board they created that allowed filmmakers to crew up and support each other. This effectively meant I could keep a toehold on my artistic ambitions as I had a bit of money coming in to buy me time. It’s phenomenal what Jess did for me, just some idiot, and it all had the aura of being no biggie. I’m sure there must be many similar stories of Jess’s generosity and the chilled out, gracious ambience that surrounded it.
I’ve mostly ended up working in comedy, but because of Jess I was blessed to meet the creative community that has the greatest hit rate of decent people, mensches, interesting minds, and as it turns out: funny people. That is the documentary community. Jess was authentically herself and so it follows that authentic characters would be part of her world.
Years after Jess gave me my first break, though we hadn’t spoken for quite a while, she was the first person to contact me out of the blue when I got nominated for an award. In fact it was via her message congratulating me that I found out. The nomination was for an Oscar, which all sounds rather grand but the truth is, I haven’t thought about that much since. I think about the euphoria and joy I experienced making that first film for Jess with a respectable amount of regularity. The Oscar night was also nowhere near as fun as some of the parties Jess held at the Shooting People office back in the day - or the parties held at documentary festivals such as Sheffield. What a lovely bunch of people. What a lovely time that era was.
So let’s conclude.
Point one: Jess was cool as fuck.
Point two: in an industry where people say they want original voices but in actual fact don’t - Jess actually DID want original voices because she herself was a true original.
I’m old enough and comfortable enough in my own skin to own the fact that, in no small degree, I am a strange lunatic. But Jess accepted me. And more than that I think she was happy for me to be who I was. She let me be a lunatic. She let me be an artist. She let so many of us actualise our crooked selves. She allowed me and other artists and other outsiders to feel like we have every right for our stories to be heard - to be heard by the mainstream - and she objectively made that happen. She made things happen. Do you understand what a rare thing that is in the world? For people to make things happen??
I wish I’d known you had this bloody thing Jess. I’d have loved to have spoken to you once more and made you laugh. I liked making you laugh. I loved coming into the Shooting People office back in the day and seeing you and Yuri the dog.
I’d also have said this to you as unabashed as I say it now:
Thank you, Jess. You are such a fantastic, brilliant person. Thank you so much for not treating me and other freaks like the freaks that we so clearly are. Thank you for helping us make art simply because you wanted to help us make art. Thank you for opening a door and helping as many of us through it as you could. Thank you for giving us a chance to go for it: win, lose or draw. And thank you so much for being a real, authentic character. Every great story needs that.