A perfect title to a magnificent piece of work by Chaucer Cameron and Helen Dewbery. On Wednesday 30 October I was fortunate to be able to attend the live event at The Club for Acts and Actors in Soho (London UK).

The evening began with a support act – Rishika Williams, performing a long poem called to be heard. I knew trauma and violence to be the theme of the night, and Rishika performed beautifully and delicately, conveying her writing with a powerful yet quiet presence on the stage.

Then after a short break, the audience were presented with a 10-minute ‘making of’ film about In an Ideal World I’d Not be Murdered that introduced the audience to the hard facts that the film deals with prostitution and sex work and that the work was based on Chaucer’s direct experience of that world.

In an Ideal World I’d Not be Murdered is described as a film that is:

“…both a fictional and re-enacted story, and contains fragments of memory from London’s underworld of prostitution in the 1980s. Told in 12 poems and 3 voices.”

Then in the ‘making of’ film, both women express some of the thoughts and processes that went into the development of this piece as a work of poetry film, Chaucer talking about the writing and her experiences, and Helen talking about her approach to filmmaking and the decisions she made with this film.

This was an unexpected way to start their presentation, revealing some of the film before the actual event and discussing what it does and how, before watching. A ‘York Notes’ if you like (for many years the classic book series for UK school students to cram their English Literature study for exams without necessarily reading the actual literature).

But on reflection now, I think it was a masterstroke. It gently eased the viewer into the themes and the subject matter and gave context and purpose from the creators themselves. This is a film not aiming to shock or illicit debate. Helen’s website explains:

”Prostitution is often depicted as a spectacle. What’s not represented enough, particularly in film, is the mundane. The mundane together with the constant stress of anticipation. So, I wanted the film not to screech ‘this is my traumatised, victimised body’, but more simply ‘these are my wounds, my ordinary body wounds’. Prostitution narratives often end in some kind of triumph or rescue, but life is more nuanced, and can’t be neatly captured, it’s often not quite legible. The realities for anyone in these situations are constantly gaslit by others who tell a different story or who don’t allow them to tell their own stories. The realities expressed in this poetry film-collection are ongoing. The end leaves the living and the dead side by side. It’s not concluded, the narrator is ‘hooked’ – somewhere, somehow, we are not told.”

So then, onto the film itself, presented next. It is a stunning success. I was very excited to see the finished work because I’d been present at an early reading of some of the poems given by Chaucer at the International Poetry Film Festival in Athens in 2019. Then I had seen an early draft, and then a later version, of one segment – Hooked – which I was honoured to curate into a screening of films last summer. So I felt I was celebrating the end of a long creative journey.

The film exceeded my expectations. For me, Helen’s aesthetic treatment for the film, the variations she introduces into her imagery, and the pace, work effectively. A favourite moment is when Helen combines text and image into the digital advertising screens seen in the film. The film is long for poetry film, at 32 and a half minutes. But it doesn’t feel that long. It feels like it achieves what Chaucer Cameron has set out to do, and left me wanting more or to see it a second time.

The trauma in this film is a difficult theme to discuss or respond to as someone who has experienced nothing comparable. But it is a valuable film to be absorbed, and if not understood fully because it is so far removed from personal experience, then it is to be drawn from. Delivering more compassion for others in extremely difficult or harrowing situations would be a start. While for those who do understand the kinds of burden represented, I imagine the film has something priceless to give.

I can, however, reflect on a comparison with the work of Mike Kelley which I saw recently (a major retrospective exhibition is at the Tate Modern, London UK until 9 March 2025). Kelley has made many works that I confess I love. More Love Hours Than Can Ever Be Repaid and The Wages of Sin (1987) was as compelling to see in reality as it had been in images. Kelley has made works that explore memory, repressed memory syndrome, and traumatic experience (including Educational Complex, 1995 and Sublevel, 1998) and has stated:  ‘We’re living in a period in which victim culture and trauma [are said to be] the motivation behind every action.’ (Interview with the writer Dennis Cooper, 2000)

At one level, Kelley’s work examines and challenges popular culture and its treatment of trauma experiences and the expectations that popular culture generates. He questions, not validates, repressed memories and trauma. I understand Kelley to have been, therefore, on a wholly different track to Chaucer and Helen. But it feels pertinent to consider his work in relation to In an Ideal World I’d Not be Murdered. Kelley’s work highlights the problematics of trauma ‘culture’, while this film has been sensitively and successfully navigated to avoid those problematics. This film isn’t a provocation.

But I’d also like to offer the contrast that Kelley’s work is often literally big and loud. He achieved a big art world career, now firmly underlined by that Tate Modern retrospective – putting him alongside Picasso and whoever else you might think to name. The assured, bold approach is easily available to many men. Yet so many women creatives I speak to are so often quieter, less confident to take up space in the world with their work (literal or metaphoric space), yet their work is no less important. As when I chose to screen a segment of what became ‘In an Ideal World …’  in my curated programme in Cambridge last year, inspired by what is so illuminatingly described by Mary Ann Sieghart in her book The Authority Gap, the opportunity for women to tell their own stories with assurance, with confidence that they will be heard, and knowledge that their authority to do so will be respected, is still limited. 

‘In an Ideal World …’ is currently existing largely under the radar and, sadly, unlikely to be screened in Tate Modern any time soon (There might be a more appropriate venue but equally why not there or somewhere similar? You take my point at least). The inappropriate popular culture around traumatic personal experience has not yet been blown apart, and the authors of this film understandably feel they need to tread extremely carefully and lightly.

This film deserves to be seen widely, and I wish Chaucer and Helen every strength to find (and show it to) more audiences, because the opportunities to do so likely won’t fall in their laps. It doesn’t fit the profile of most poetry film festivals who principally show shorter films with wide appeal. I wish too, that we had an art world that opened its doors more readily and more supportively to work like this one, and was less filled by the large or loud.