A short film and a portrait opportunity

Joe and Alex — My Father, My Son portrait shoot

I have been busy recently. Between my full-time work, studies in the evening, and arranging either social activities or photographic opportunities, it's been quite hectic. I am NOT a natural multi-tasker. I'm more linear... perhaps analogue in my approach. I make a list of sorts and work through tasks in no particular order, though that's not the case for my professional life, where I prioritise by business imperative. When it comes to stuff for myself, it's a little more random, but there's always a list, and checking things off as I go is a dynamite feeling.

Last weekend was a trip to Nottingham, for a music festival. This weekend was a trip to Gateshead, to complete a short film for my friend Joe. A little different, but no less special, since this one carried some real weight. Joe has been a friend since the early 90s, so we understand each other well, and how we each 'tick' when it comes to the creative process. The film he's making is co-written with his son Alex, who also plays the lead. Alex is trans, and the script is a fictional exploration of that journey. I agreed to come up and help with the filming, as I've done that kind of work before and I still love the camera side of production. But this trip was also going to give me the chance to photograph Joe and Alex together for My Father My Son, the project I started a few months ago. That's really what this weekend was about for me.

The journey up to Newcastle, by LNER, was rather nice. I'd upgraded to first class, not much more expensive than standard, anticipating I'd be short of time to eat after a full day's work, the perk being snacks, drinks, and a light meal. The other perk was the aircon. It was a bloody hot day, and by the time I reached King's Cross I was knackered, with a proper sweat on. I'd packed a few cameras for the journey, having already spoken to Joe about the possibility of a portrait shoot with him and Alex. The film we'd been shooting was about identity; I wanted the portraits to sit in that same space, since Joe and Alex's family journey (Alex was born female, and now identifies as male) is its own unfolding story of identity, just as much as the one on screen.

For the portraits, I brought my late father's Yashica medium format camera. It's become a personal thread connecting my own father-son relationship to this project, and I know he'd have been glad to see it used this way. Alongside the Yashica, I brought a Nikon F100 and a Fuji X100VI. I'd decided, mostly on instinct, that the shoot would be covered largely in black and white film, saving the X100 for background images only. Black and white felt right for this; stripped of colour, it seemed closer to the honesty I wanted the portraits to hold. I'd also brought my notepad, for the journaling habit I'm still trying to properly stick to.

Joe, untangling some lights on the Brechtian set.

Filming for 'Cal', the name of the short, was entirely indoors this time, on an improvised set. The approach is stripped back and Brechtian, which meant we could worry less about the appearance of objects and what they denote, and more about feeling and connotation. I wasn't sure what to expect going in, but it started to make sense once we were underway. Joe's Lumix S5II is a fantastic bit of kit; I'd used it once before, last year, and we'd saved the user settings we needed to stick to. Good thing too, since it had been six months or more since the last shoot, and I needed a little time to find my feet again. The main things to hold onto were a 180-degree shutter angle, shooting V-Log, and exposing correctly or up to a stop over. All handheld, so my arms and my knees did all the work.

The natural light in the house was excellent, and filming went well on Friday. Saturday afternoon gave us the chance to grab some portraits of Alex and Joe. I'd had my eye on two mirrors in the house, thinking they might frame one of them well. The light was a little darker than I'd have liked, so I used a step ladder to steady myself and the Yashica, and took twelve exposures before switching to the 35mm Nikon. Both cameras were loaded with Tri-X. I came away with a feeling that, if the film develops cleanly and there isn't too much camera shake, these could be a strong addition to the project. Later that afternoon I shot another roll of twelve, just of Joe, then switched to the X100 for some photographs of Joe's cat, which I properly enjoyed. Rasha as he's called, is a lovely black cat, and rather photogenic himself.

The evening ended with a few beers, a home-cooked Thai curry, and a film, Bugonia, which is completely mad but bloody brilliant. What made the weekend special was, in many ways, its uneventfulness. I went to Gateshead, saw an old friend, took some pictures of him and his son, and came home.

Me and Joe, in one of those mirrors I mentioned.

But underneath that simplicity, something else happened. I reconnected with a friend I've known most of my life. I witnessed quiet, intimate moments between a father and his trans son. And I understood, a little more deeply, just how unique every family relationship I photograph really is.

It made me think of Dad.

Max McGonigal © 2026