Showing posts with label simon poulter. Show all posts
Showing posts with label simon poulter. Show all posts

19 Apr 2026

You Are Reading a Post About Making a Film About Mark Fisher

We Are Making a Film About Mark Fisher (2025)
Poster image by Joe Magee 
 
We are assembling a post about Mark Fisher and, 
now that you're reading this, so are you ... 
 
 
I. 
 
There was an interesting piece in The Guardian a couple of days ago, by Lauren Kelly [1]. It was on Mark Fisher; a cultural theorist who, somewhat ironically, continues to haunt the media almost ten years after his death and seventeen years after he published the slim volume - Capitalist Realism (2009) - that ensured he would be born posthumously.
 
It's a good book [2]. But, like many other works regarded as seminal, it now risks becoming a kind of foundational text - i.e., essential reading for those who wish to have an understanding of contemporary neoliberal culture conveniently packaged and given a stamp of approval by critics, commentators, and other left-leaning intellectuals who secretly envy its astonishing popularity and sales figures [3].
 
Ultimately, it's easier to keep referencing Fisher c. 2009 and regurgitate his critique, rather than imagine an alternative future oneself. Of course, that's not Fisher's fault and, in his later work, he seemed keen to stress that Capitalist Realism was only ever intended as a starting point and not meant to be the last word on any of the subjects it touched upon.
 
Fisher spoke about developing post-capitalist desire and acid communism, but it's his debut book that most readers seem to fixate on and find most relevant [4], in the same way that orthodox punk fans still think Never Mind the Bollocks was the Sex Pistols' finest moment, rather than The Great Rock 'n' Roll Swindle.       
 
 
II.  
  
Whatever one thinks of Fisher, the fact is he's an increasingly influential and pervasive figure and there's currently an experimental documentary doing the rounds that aims to disseminate his ideas to a still wider audience by mixing theory with real-world footage.
 
Titled We Are Making a Film About Mark Fisher (2025), this 65-minute film written and directed by Simon Poulter [5], cheerfully places itself outside the world of mainstream production; it was funded by Poulter and fellow artist Sophie Mellor (who edited the work), using an Instagram account to recruit a network of seventy collaborators - including a technical crew - to assist with the project.
 
There was no advance budget; no studio backing; and no institutional permissions - just the determination to make a film that affirmed Fisher's belief that decapitalised cultural production and collective agency was still possible among the ruins of neoliberal atomisation.
 
Methodologically, the work draws from both situationism and the rhizomatic philosophy of Deleuze and Guattari - rejecting arborescent models in favour of open systems of exchange:
 
"By way of archival recordings, interviews and fictional performance, Fisher's philosophy of 'hauntology' recurs throughout [...] maintaining that modern society, as a result of 'capitalist realism', is haunted by futures that failed to happen [... as] narrator Justin Hopper explains." [6]  
 
Since the autumn of last year, Poulter's film has been screened "in universities, back gardens, cinemas, living rooms and art galleries located everywhere from Coventry to Brisbane, Australia, via Malmö, Sweden" [7]. 
 
I've not seen it yet - I'm hoping to attend the screening at the ICA on 19 May - but would like to offer support to the work carried out by Mellor and Poulter working as Close and Remote. I might not share all their political views and moral values, but, nevertheless, I feel a certain level of comradeship - not least of all because Poulter is an old punk rocker and a man who loves butterflies ...  
 
 
Notes
 
[1] Lauren Kelly, 'The man who saw the future: the legacy of cultural theorist Mark Fisher', in The Guardian (17 April 2026): click here
 
[2] Funnily enough, I haven't written a post critically reviewing the book, even though I have done so for other works by Fisher: click here, for example, for fragmened remarks on Ghosts of My Life (2022); or here for part one of a two-part post on The Weird and the Eerie (2016). I am planning to examine Fisher's most well-known text shortly. 
 
[3] According to Lauren Kelly in her Guardian piece: "As of December 2025, more than 250,000 English-language versions of Capitalist Realism have been sold, with translations available in Spanish, Italian, Arabic Mandarin, German, Portuguese, Polish, Japanese, Hebrew, Korean and Danish."  
 
[4] I think it's fair to say that Fisher's concept of acid communism has not attained the same widespread cultural recognition as his thinking on capitalist realism. Primarily, that's because his work in this area was cut short by his suicide in 2017 - acid communism exists only as an introduction and a few notes - but it's also the case that the former was a far more speculative concept, whereas the latter is a tangible malaise experienced here and now. 
      Given the choice, most people, it appears, prefer to feel depressed by the present, than imagine their future happiness based on the retrieval of old dreams and unrealised desires. A few academics, artists, and old school k-punk fans might be excited by the concept, but acid communism is a bit niche for mainstream readers (and maybe - since it relies on a certain level of political and countercultural utopianism rooted in the late 1960s and early 1970s - it seems a tad nostalgic and old-fashioned for younger readers who don't remember this time).  
 
[5] Torpedophiles will recognise the name of artist and aurelian Simon Poulter from a post published on 1 Feb 2026: click here.    
 
[6] Lauren Kelly ... see reference and link in note 1 above. It should be pointed out that Justin Hopper doesn't narrate as himself, but in character as Professor Parkins; a spectral guide to Mark Fisher's life and work.
 
[7] Ibid
 
 
Bonus: click here to play the trailer to We Are Making a Film About Mark Fisher (2025). 



1 Feb 2026

Simon Poulter: Artist and Aurelian

 
Simon Poulter: Purple Emperor (2022) [1]
Watercolour on Fabriano Artistico paper 
 
 
I. 
 
Another Simon whom I admire and whose work I greatly appreciate, is the artist Simon Poulter whose fascination with colour naturally led him towards the iridescently beautiful world of butterflies, and who for the past five years has been assembling a collection of watercolours depicting all fifty-nine of Britain's remaining butterfly species.
 
 
II.  
 
Of course, there's a science behind the vibrant wing patterns and one could write at length about the way in which butterflies rely on colour in every aspect of their lives. From courtship displays to camouflage techniques, the 18,000 named species with which we share the planet have evolved strategies over millions of years to make the most of their defining feature. 
 
One might also wax lyrical about the fact that butterflies can see more colours than humans; like many other insects - and perhaps one or two poets - Lepidoptera are sensitive to ultraviolet light (i.e. the blue of the Greater Day). Or how they often use bright, bold colours like red and orange to advertise their toxicity to predators (a technique known as aposematism).  
 
But, instead, I think I'll just refer readers to Poulter's website and encourage them to purchase one of his lovely butterfly pictures - click here - as, in this case, the work speaks for itselfPoulter's vision - like that of the Russian author V. V. Rozanov - is full of passion and he is able to see that "immortality is in the vividness of life" itself. 
 
Thus it is that the butterfly "becomes a whole revelation to him: and to us" [2].
 
 
III. 
 
Finally, I would also ask readers to do all they can to protect these insects and their habitat. Not because they are symbols of the human soul, but because they are finer things than us; creatures with unique biological traits, including metamorphic life cycles, possessing a terminal value (or delight) independent of mankind [3].  
 
Ultimately, ethics means very little if it does not extend into the natural world and include non-human entities (indeed, I would extend it even further into the world of non-living objects, but that's another story).         

  
Notes
 
[1] The Purple Emperor (Apatura iris), was once common in southern England, but, like half of all British butterflies, it experienced a sharp decline in both range and numbers during the last hundred years, mostly due to habitat destruction. The surviving populations are now mostly confined to broadleaved woodlands in Hampshire, Surrey, and Sussex, with a few scattered across other localities. Following the rewilding of the Knepp Estate by Charlie Burrell and Isabella Tree, the Purple Emperor has also returned in significant numbers to this Kentish haven. I have written in praise of this project; see the post of 5 March 2019 - click here
      Readers might also be interested in the work of Matthew Oates, an English naturalist and nature writer, obsessed with butterflies, especially the mighty Purple Emperor. See His Imperial Majesty, a natural history of the Purple Emperor (Bloomsbury, 2020) and for more information visit his website: click here. I am told that Oates and Poulter are currently collaborating on a film project to do with the Purple Emperor butterfly, so that's something to watch out for.  
 
[2] I'm quoting from D. H. Lawrence in his 'Review of Solitaria, by V. V. Rozanov', in Introductions and Reviews, ed. N. H. Reeve and John Worthen (Cambridge University Press, 2005), p. 317. See my post of 14 May 2019 - 'The Butterfly Revelation' - click here
 
[3] As John Keats once wrote in a letter to Fanny Brawne (his fiancée and muse): "I almost wish we were butterflies and liv'd but three summer days - three such days with you I could fill with more delight than fifty [human] years could ever contain." I have substituted the word 'common' with human.
      This letter, of 1 July 1819, can be found in Volume II of The Letters of John Keats (1819-1821), ed. Hyder Edward Rollins (Cambridge University Press, 2012); or it can be read online thanks to the Keats Letters Project: click here
 
 
For a short selection of other posts on butterflies (and moths), please click here.