Photograph still from Giants features two men standing side by side in a field, wearing dark goggles that cover their eyes.

Interview: Giants

We catch up with Alex Oates, Andy Berriman, and Dermot O’Dempsey

Published: 05 Nov 2025

Wind turbines and working-class truths – how Giants grew from a small-town story into a powerful short film.


In this conversation, writer Alex Oates, director Andy Berriman, and producer Dermot O’Dempsey discuss the journey of BFI-NETWORK short Giants, from its roots in Cambois to the challenges of bringing its ambition to life on screen. They reflect on how their Northern backgrounds inform their storytelling, lessons learned through development, and the importance of authenticity in filmmaking.

Giants (2025) premieres at Aesthetica Short Film Festival today, and will screen at Leeds International Film Festival on Saturday 8 November. The film follows Sandy, an isolated teenager drifting through his post-industrial town in search of scrap. His aimless routine takes a turn when he meets Don, a conspiracy theorist who gives him a dangerous new mission – to destroy a local wind farm.


What first inspired Giants, and how did it develop through our 2022 Script Lab?


Alex Oates: I live in Cambois, South East Northumberland – one of the UK’s most deprived areas, still marked by industrial decline. Five years ago, my wife and I founded The Tute, a charity dedicated to using creativity to inspire ambition. Our first project was a creative writing group that made a book of short stories about Cambois – I wrote Tilting at Windmills, a short story that was the genesis of Giants.

When the brief came up for Script Lab I sent in a rushed last-minute application with barely a logline – Don Quixote light, in Northumberland, wind turbines – and was amazed when I got in. I remember a very lovely weekend in York with some fab script editors at Aesthetica. Then came the process of developing the story into a short film, which was interesting because the original idea – centred on a wind turbine at sea – felt a bit too large in scope. However, the brilliant workshops and advice from Jen Bradfield, Ben Taylor, and the gang were incredibly inspiring and gave me the confidence to move forward with it.

The script came on leaps and bounds, thanks to the support of the peer group on those Zoom sessions and the ever-encouraging Kate O'Hara, who would pierce my imposter syndrome whenever it reared its head. I left Script Lab with a solid short script and a bit of confidence, and gave it to Andy Berriman who, like a surly northern Tony Stark (does he do the assembling?) pulled together the team – led by the formidable Dermot O'Dempsey, who turned out is a massive script geek and produced pages of notes and graphs of how to improve the script. 

Armed with these and with Andy on the end of every phone call and WhatsApp thread, we sculpted the script into something shootable in my own back yard – where I learned a valuable lesson about 'shooting' where you eat. That then got reworked in the edit, so I'm very lucky to have encountered all the people along the way who helped steward it into what it's become.

What were the biggest production challenges on Giants?


Dermot O'Dempsey: By far the biggest challenge on Giants was the scope and ambition of the script. For me, it was key to the success of the film to make sure that the practical metalworking and destruction of the turbine felt as visceral and impactful as it did on the page. I'm so grateful to Andy, May Davies (Production Designer), and Jack Edwards (Director of Photography) who between them approached this set of unique challenges with creativity and openness, despite the constraints we had – and I feel met the expectations that the script set up.

How did making Giants compare to working on commercial projects?


Andy Berriman: To be honest, the process isn’t hugely different as whatever you’re directing it’s your job to home in on what the story is and how to tell it. What’s different is the approach. In a commercial, everything is informed by the brand or the product and what needs to be communicated about that, whereas in something like Giants the north star is authenticity. Sometimes that looks like realism and sometimes it’s more poetic, but you’re always just sniffing out the truth.

It can be hard to switch mindsets. In commercials things often need to be quite sanitised and technically very polished and you’re always thinking about that. In a short film you can get your hands dirtier and when you have a great story and script and brilliant actors (which I did) your focus really should be on those things over anything else.

Where does Giants sit within your wider body of work — do you see recurring themes across stage and screen?


Alex: I'm drawn to truth, tragedy and underdogs. The pain in wanting to be someone but starting with one hand tied behind your back and blindfolded, which is probably just what everyone from the North with muggle parents feels like in this industry.

There's definitely a Northern tributary to my work. My most successful play is arguably Silk Road and when we did that in the West End we cast the brilliant Josh Barrow who plays Sandy in Giants – some might say it's a similar character, underdog wants to do something big. I don't really worry about being pigeonholed in the toon, I just follow the truth.



Does your Northern background influence your filmmaking style or the projects you pursue?


Andy: I don’t think that’s a distinct or fixed thing. There are as many Northern backgrounds as there are people who grew up in the North. That said, I’m still based in Teesside. It is both my background and my everyday reality so for sure it informs things. But it’s personal.

This probably sounds pretentious, but I am drawn to finding the mythic in the mundane and being quite literal about that. Taking those ‘kitchen sink’ ideas and making them feel epic in some way. And there is something about the North East that feels ripe for that kind of thing. The landscape – geographical and political – and the stories that naturally emerge from that.

How do you adapt your producing style across animation, shorts, and features?


Dermot: Each film has its own set of unique challenges. No matter the scale or the medium, the key is always to make sure you're serving the story and advocating for the people who are there to realise it. 

With short films, a producer must be a capable all-rounder. Without the same resources as a feature, you must wear many different hats and be capable across a range of technical, logical, and creative fields. On a feature, a producer has much greater responsibility, but at the same time far more resources, so the role becomes more specialised.

What advice would you give playwrights looking to make the leap into screenwriting?


Alex: Why not, the money's just as bad but at least you'll have something you can show the family at Christmas when they ask if you're still “having a go at the writing and that”. 

Forget everything you know about writing, you can't hide in quirky dialogue here my friend – visuals, action, and loads of boring admin regarding scene titles and numbering. Collaboration is your saviour, find smarter people than you and let them help you.

What lessons from our 2022 Scratch Me lab still shape your practice today?


Andy: I think just don’t overcomplicate it. Serve the characters, serve the story. Figure out what the film needs to be, as opposed to what you want it to be. Shoot for that and trust your sensibility to shine through.

I’m not saying I’m succeeding at that by the way!

What kinds of stories excite you as a producer?


Dermot: It's a great question. It's something I ask myself a lot, and I feel the answer isn't always logical or easy to boil down to a concrete definition. For me, excitement for a story comes naturally when you have a strong emotional connection to the material. When you instantly feel it's a story that deserves to be told, and therefore a film that should be made. For this, the writing and characters have to be strong. It has to draw you in, to surprise you. And because of this, I'm always drawn to authenticity – which for me is a very rare quality that is hard to fake.

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