The Small Details That Brought Just A Farmer to Life

When I was writing Just a Farmer, the little details of the story were so important to me. I wanted to tell it in a way that felt real. The finer details are what make a film truly great. I love films that carry subtle messages, where you discover something new through the world the characters live in.

When I was writing Just a Farmer, I showed the script to many professional writers for feedback. Sometimes their comments were soul destroying. They would tear it apart. But there is something powerful about telling a story from the heart rather than following every rule set by screenwriting experts.

I have always been drawn to the quiet stories that speak without words. The small moments of ordinary life. Life itself is dramatic. We all have our struggles, our triumphs, and our private heartbreaks. Sometimes the grand drama of cinema makes us feel that our own stories are not worth telling, that no one will care. But in truth, people connect deeply when they see themselves reflected in a story.

I was so lucky to work with Simon Lyndon. Finding the right director was critical. Some directors told me that a producer should know their place, that the story was theirs to control. I knew this film needed someone who understood that Just a Farmer was not about building a career in film. It was a deeply personal and collaborative project that required working hand in hand with me and my family, both creatively and emotionally. Simon was that person. We worked side by side, always keeping the heart of the film at the centre of every decision.

The best advice I ever received came from my friend, the incredible writer Angela Buckingham. She said,

“Leila, you are embarking on the most collaborative art project you can possibly do. Everyone will want to have creative input. If you are not willing to be flexible, then don’t make a movie, write a book.”

She was absolutely right. Every single person on the team brought their creativity to the project, and I wanted everyone to feel proud of what we made together.

There is one moment in the film that stands out for me. It is not even a full scene, just a single shot, but it shows how beautifully the team worked together.

I had written a dinner scene layered with emotion and meaning. The family is sitting together but not speaking, avoiding the conversations they need to have. I wanted to show that the children needed understanding and support in their grief. Simon wanted to create moments where it felt as though Alec was still watching over his family.

Our cinematographer, Gavin-John Head, is magic with a camera. He worked out how to bring the lens down over the dining table, and the grip and gaffer team built the structure to hold it. The set and costume team followed the script closely, ensuring every small detail was right. Then our editor, Ash Lukas, and composer, Bryony Marks, brought their own creative touch. Ash understood where to place the shot to let the emotion breathe, and Bryony found the sound and music that carried the feeling we wanted people to experience. Together they shaped the rhythm and emotion of that moment so perfectly that the audience feels something deep but cannot quite explain why.

One detail that may go unnoticed is the way the table is set. That was very important to me. Where everyone sits at the table says so much about a family. We are all creatures of habit, each with our own spot. In that scene, Sally helps her Aunty Katheren set the table for dinner. What the audience may not realise is that Sally, only five years old, also sets her dad’s place at the table. She hopes that by doing so, he will come home, that he will see she has not forgotten him.

One more small detail that carries a lot of weight, though most people may not notice it, is the locket that Alison wears. It is the same locket that Jean, Alec’s mother, wears earlier in the film who also takes her own life. To me, it shows how precious history is to all of us. We all hold on to sentimental things that remind us of where we come from. It is also a quiet reminder that Alison carries something too, the truth that needed to be spoken but never was.

The film is full of these small details that tell parts of the story we may not hear but can see and feel. They are the unspoken threads that hold the emotion together, the things that make the story feel real.

Throughout the entire film, our team worked with absolute care to make sure every detail told part of the story. Through sound, mood, visuals and unspoken emotion, we built a world that feels as real as life itself.