Confessions of a Technophobe, New Series 39
Part 3
1966–1976
I think most South Africans regard the Cape Province, and in particular Cape Town and its surroundings, as one of the most beautiful places on earth. So when Sven secured the film on wine with KWV (the wine co-operative), I thought I’d died and was on my way to Heaven! The combination of the beautiful winelands and the glorious nectar itself was irresistible. Besides which I needed the work!
We flew down to Cape Town a few days later and drove to the neighboring town of Paarl where the headquarters of KWV is located. Paarl is the Afrikaans word for pearl and is based on the presence of a huge granite dome, which shines like a giant pearl after rain has wet it. Close to Paarl Rock is the Taal Monument (taal is Afrikaans for language), a surprisingly beautiful edifice with twin towers and a hollow dome, built in 1975. It is claimed to be the only monument to a language in the world. I have climbed the rock several times and always sense the ancient and rugged beauty of Africa, surrounded and softened by the more European splendor of the winelands.
We presented ourselves to Piet Botha, the Public Relations Manager of KWV, who was to be our liaison for the duration of the filming. Piet was unusual in that despite his very Afrikaner name, he hardly spoke a word of Afrikaans. He was descended from a group of Afrikaners who had migrated from South Africa to Kenya in Central Africa and who were largely assimilated into the very colonial British culture of that nation.
Piet explained that although wine was the tipple of choice for many in the Cape Province, beer or brandy and Coke was preferred by the inhabitants of the Transvaal and Orange Free State. Although South African wines had a growing international market, a large part of the country considered wine to be for rich snobs only. The purpose of the film was to dispel many of the myths attached to the fermented juice of the grape.
I got approval for the title “The Magic of Wine” and wrote the script over a few days while Sven looked for suitable film locations. Basically, I showed a modest young Johannesburg housewife preparing dinner and laying a table which looked quite ordinary – until she lit some candles and put a flagon of red wine on the table, turning the setting into a warm and magical place for her and her husband to enjoy a simple meal of Spaghetti Bolognese. This led to the husband becoming interested in wine for the first time. After dinner he picked up a coffee table book on the winelands of the Cape and paged through it. We then dissolved to the actual Cape, with rows of vines resplendent in their autumn colors, on the lower slopes of a majestic mountain range.
In the film we made a number of points to indicate that although some wine drinkers enjoy certain rituals which have led to the perception of snobbery with the drinking of wine, the drink can be enjoyed in many ways. For example, although drinking white wine with fish and red wine with meat is recommended, it’s no sin to stick with red or white if you prefer it. We interspersed these comments with glorious shots of the winelands, the making of wine and the Cape Dutch architecture of the farmhouses, made unique in style by the use of gables borrowed from historic houses in Amsterdam. The gables somehow compliment the mountains in the background.
In retrospect it’s hard to describe the sheer pleasure or making this film. The aesthetics of the subject matter, the incredible scenery and even two events that added to the magic of making the film itself.
The first event was Piet Botha’s insistence that no matter where we were filming, we HAD to be back at the KWV cellars every day at 12:30. This was a pain as it interfered with our shooting schedule. Nevertheless, we presented ourselves as required only to discover that at 12:30 every day KWV has a wine tasting. Piet decided that it was important that we taste the product we were filming, even though it played havoc with our shooting schedule. In fairness the wine tasting was quite an event. We were given glasses of glorious wines every day that we were expected to spit out after tasting – another piece of snobbery we were trying to decry in the film. I have never forgotten one day when we had to taste a white wine that I normally don’t like – I am a confirmed red wine drinker. However, on this occasion we tasted the white wine, and I had to admit it was superb. Piet then told us that we would never ever taste this wine again in its present state. Sadly, it would be blended with other wines before reaching the market and although it would still be good, it would not be the nectar we had experienced that day. I have seldom drunk white wine since then – and I swallowed the whole glass!
The second event was quite bizarre. We had seen a lovely looking Cape Dutch homestead in the distance but had no idea who owned it. We decided to visit the place and, if possible, film it. As we entered the driveway, we were deeply impressed by the farmhouse. The gardens in front of the house were a riot of color, with beautifully manicured flowerbeds and in the distance rows of vines. As we pulled up in front of the house, a middle-aged woman, rather shabbily dressed in the sort of clothing best suited for gardening. had been trimming a rose bush but approached us visibly angry, waving her secateurs (pruners) at us.
“What are you doing here?” she demanded.
Sven tried to explain that we were making a film for KWV. We had seen the house in the distance and felt it would be ideal to include in the film.
“So why didn’t Piet Botha let me know? This is outrageous!”
Sven apologized and said that Piet did not know that we had even seen the place. We were simply asking if we could film it. The lady continued to harangue us and repeated that Piet should have called her first. We had absolutely no idea who she was and for all we knew she was employed as a gardener.
Sven, who could be quite aggressive, actually handled her very well and offered to leave. The lady then calmed down and said that as we were already there, we might as well film the place. Then in a sudden change of mood she offered us tea. Sven graciously accepted and we were shown to a garden table and chairs while the lady disappeared to arrange tea. Sven looked at me and asked, “Any idea who she is?” I said no and we sat back to await our tea.
The lady reappeared and sat down with us. By now she had calmed down completely annd was playing the part of the perfect hostess. As we chatted, she explained that her husband Anton was in Cape Town for the day. I think the penny dropped with both Sven and I at about the same time. The name Anton was unusual for an Afrikaner and the lady was clearly Afrikaans, although she spoke very good English. We realized that her husband was probably Anton Rupert, one of the richest men in South Africa and owner of Richemont, the fourth-largest cigarette company in the world at the time (their main brand was Rothmans). We tacitly managed to confirm that her husband was indeed Anton Rupert and it made sense that Mrs. Rupert felt she should have been warned of our arrival. In the event we finished our tea, filmed her house and superb gardens with the vines in the background, and left on good terms. The film, “The Magic of Wine,” proved to be a pivotal point in bringing awareness of the pleasures of drinking wine to the more northern regions of South Africa and was probably the most pleasurable filming experience of my career.
Ironically, some years after shooting the wine film, I learned more about Anton Rupert. Shortly after World War Two, this young Afrikaner travelled to Lourenço Marques (the capital of Mozambique to the north of South Africa) and applied for a job with the biggest cigarette factory in the city. The factory was owned by a Greek, Tsihlakis, who happened to be a close friend of my wife Hero’s father, Zacharias Falas. Rupert learned about the cigarette business over a few years in Mozambique. He then returned to South Africa where he built up Richemont to become a major global industrial entity. Some years after Hero and I were married, my father-in-law told me that Rupert had returned to Mozambique and offered to buy a fifty-percent share in Tsihlakis’ company. With Rupert’s massive global organization, it seemed to made sense – but, in fact, within a short while the Tsihlakis family were fighting for survival. Fortunately, Portuguese law forbad a foreign company from taking over a Portuguese- or Mozambique-owned company, so the family survived. Interestingly, Rupert’s International financial advisor announced that he wanted to visit Mozambique, so Rupert asked Tsihlakis to host him while there. The man turned out to be Baron Guy de Rothschild and we finally realized that the Rupert family had some very powerful connections!
Shortly after the successful completion of the wine film, Sven asked if I was ready to write a full-length feature screenplay. As usual I replied “Of course.” This was what I had been working towards for some years and I was enormously grateful to Sven for having the confidence in me to embark on the next level of screenwriting. He already had the bare bones of the story. Dr. Ian Player was the older brother of the world-famous golfer Gary Player (who was winning major golf tournaments in close competition with Americans Arnold Palmer and Jack Niklaus). Ian Player was in his field also internationally recognized for his contribution to wildlife conservation. The story, which I called “Rogue Lion” was loosely based on Ian’s early life as a junior Game Ranger in the province of Natal, South Africa. This was just after World War Two and returning servicemen were given large tracts of land for the development of mostly cattle ranching. The problem was that the land was close to and adjoining a small game reserve called Ndumo, bordering on the neighboring country of Mozambique. The area contained both malaria and the dreaded tsetse fly, the latter deadly for cattle as well as causing sleeping sickness in humans. Much as the former servicemen were grateful for their gift of land, they recognized that the nearby game reserve was likely to destroy their herds of cattle as well as endanger the lives of the farmers and their families.
My screenplay featured the conflict between the farmers and the game rangers in Ndumo Reserve. It also dwelled on the adventures of a young, inexperienced game ranger who was enormously enthusiastic but made mistakes. His worst error was on finding that although the reserve contained hippos, crocodiles. nyala, impala and Cape buffalo, it had no big cats such as leopards or lions. He decided to do something about it. He asked around and found he could cheaply buy an old circus lion. He did so and released it into the reserve. In his ignorance he didn’t realize that the poor creature had grown up in captivity and had no idea how to hunt for food. After a few weeks, the lion was starving and headed for the only source of food he had known, namely humans. He broke into the home of the chief ranger in search of food. The ranger’s wife and children hid in the bedroom and the ranger reluctantly had to shoot the lion. The young ranger was lucky not to lose his job and was kept on because the chief saw potential in the youngster once his impetuous instincts were curbed.
Sven was a fine cameraman but not a great director. Nevertheless, the picture was financed by a major construction company. The owners, two brothers, then appointed an architect whom they employed as the producer of the movie. The man knew nothing about movies and had been chosen because in addition to his work as an architect, he had successfully managed the adventures of an ocean-going yacht called Jacaranda, that won a couple of the annual Cape-to-Rio yacht races. The man was goodlooking and a playboy. He entered the role of the important movie mogul with young women groupies surrounding him. His producing skills were nonexistent. In addition, the production manager (as the producer’s righthand man) was responsible for organizing the logistics of the movie as well as keeping it on schedule and on budget. He was discovered to be pocketing chunks of the budget. He was fired and to my surprise Sven asked me to take over as production manager. Fortunately, my years in TV production paid off and I managed to pull the picture through to the end despite the loss of production money.
However, once edited the picture ran about 12 minutes over length. The producer was informed and instead of consulting with Sven as the director he told the editor to hack 12 minutes out of the show, mostly the character development of the chief ranger’s wife. As a result, the critics later had a field day saying how poorly the character of the wife had been written. Sigh!
In addition to which, the investors decided not to provide any money for publicity and advertising. On release the picture sank without trace. However, Sven later bought the rights to the picture for a nominal amount, re-edited it and sold it in the US as a B picture. It ran successfully and later the US distributor sold it to South African TV as a Saturday night movie of the week! Madness!
I have fond memories of Sven as a good friend and a man who would not give up.
I like to think of Peter Warren in much the same way, as he has fought tirelessly for the creation and funding of ExoTech, a computing system that will literally change – for much the better – the way the world communicates.