Letters from Prince Charles and Richard Attenborough are on the desk, both had been invited to an innovative new film festival.
Peter Neaves is drawing on an incredible existence to fuel his latest venture. His contact book is almost as compelling as his life.
The forthcoming film festival will feature home-spun entertainment as diverse as full-blown vampire horror to short quirky animations. Lancaster’s answer to Cannes will see aspiring amateurs from north Lancashire and South Cumbria sharing their vision.
Neither the Prince of Wales nor veteran filmmaker Richard Attenborough could make it - Peter said he left it too late to invite them. Next year, he’ll start trawling his address book earlier.
This is a guy who the Kray twins befriended, who stormed the Falklands as a paratrooper, became an SAS specialist, jammed with Queen, masterminded the Pepsi ad with Michael Jackson, and even guarded Rudolph Hess.
His present fad is designer women he creates on his own computer. They are predictably beautiful, leggy, and ultra intelligent. Peter controls them mind and body. If they had a soul, he would claim that too.
Now based in Lancaster, the freelance animator and film tutor has put his talents into altruistic use, helping the unemployed to help themselves.
His film-making courses are seized on. He is on his ninth. More than 250 applied for ten spaces for the first 15-week run and demand continues to grow.
No one has yet come up with a Peter Neaves storyline. He says he’s normally pretty reticent about discussing his past.
Born in North Wales, the son of a boxing second, the family moved to London’s East End when Peter was three to run a corner shop.
“It was the 1950s and there were dodgy links between boxing and the criminal fraternity,” said Peter.
“Dad died when I was 12 and the Kray twins came to our house over the shop to offer help. They got me a job sweeping out a snooker club. Illegal gambling went on in the backroom. I got a fiver, a huge amount of money at the time.
“I didn’t know any different. I thought they were great lads. I only realised later they were heavy-duty criminals.” The wily street-wise teenager was destined for the slippery slope. By the time he was 13, Peter had left school and was earning good money scaffolding.
“The higher you went, the more you got paid, I was going up 200ft steeples and by the age of 16 was earning the equivalent of £500 a week. I even had my own pad.” Getting into scrapes with police, he knew he had to take himself in hand and went to Trafalgar Square to join the Fleet Air Arm. But the recruitment centre was closed, so he went to the Army and within six months was serving with the Parachute Regiment in the Far East.
Duty in Northern Ireland in his early days was known as the “disco tours”, hardly any trouble and the chance to meet a pretty girl. Peter found a wife there. She persuaded him to get himself an education and move up the ranks. He has since successfully completed two degrees.
When he applied for the SAS, he joined a selection group of 50, four got through.
“It was far worse than anything you see on television. I had to walk through 50 miles of wilderness in bare feet and few clothes in the middle of winter, killing a sheep a food.” He says he is not allowed to say much about operations, but confesses he was in the Malaysian jungle near the Cambodian border in the 70s and had been part of the HALO – high altitude low opening – technical freefall force, jumping at 30,000ft with oxygen and freefalling to 2,500ft.
Peter describes the Falklands conflict as “fun” - his first experience of “hand fighting”, going in at Bluff Cove and taking Goose Green.
He came out of the SAS to see more of his wife and two young children. Rejoining the paras, he found himself at Spandau Prison guarding Rudolf Hess.
“I offered him a cigarette as he was walking around the exercise yard and he reported me. I got 30 extra duties for it.” Peter says he is a self-sufficient guy, once spending six weeks in the jungle on his own.
“I’ve got a great wife and family, but I’ve never really needed anyone else. I would be fine on a desert island.” There had always been a yearning to be a commercial air-brush artist. Coming out of the Army in 1984, he set up as a freelance, persuading Saatchi and Saatchi to use him for the Pepsi ad featuring megastar Michael Jackson.
Peter also appeared in Richard Attenborough’s film A Bridge Too Far, after volunteering to do the parachute work.
“It was a great experience, I met all the stars including Sean Connery, Gene Hackman and Michael Caine. Richard Attenborough said afterwards if I ever needed him for anything I had to let him know.
“I’ve had some amazing opportunities,” he says. “Towards the end of my time as a para, I went to see Queen filming We Are The Champions at Elstree Studios in London. During the break I was looking at Brian May’s guitar when he came over and told me to have a go.
“Freddy Mercury got on keyboards and we all started jamming. It was the most fantastic experience.” Peter scrubbed lavatories, cleaned windows and unloaded cargo at Heysham docks to put himself through university and a degree in 3D graphics and animation.
He uses the experience to encourage the unemployed groups he now teaches. Whether it’s courses for those terrified of computers or film courses – which go from script writing to stunts and special effects – Peter is an inspirational guy.
He is now working flat-out on the Lancaster Film and New Media Festival, which takes place on Saturday and Sunday, July 12 and 13.
Log on to www.lancaster-film-festival.co.uk
Comments: Our rules
We want our comments to be a lively and valuable part of our community - a place where readers can debate and engage with the most important local issues. The ability to comment on our stories is a privilege, not a right, however, and that privilege may be withdrawn if it is abused or misused.
Please report any comments that break our rules.
Read the rules hereComments are closed on this article