âThe film humanised Russians at a time when Rambo was killing themâ: how we made Letter to Brezhnev

âAll of Kirkby turned out for the premiere â many of them had been extras. And 500 people crammed into my mumâs council house for a party. Itâs still talked aboutâ I started banging out the script for this on a typewriter in my scruffy flat in Toxteth, Liverpool, in 1981. Four years later, the film had its British premiere. My idea was for a working-class romance between a couple of girls from my native Kirkby and two Russian sailors on leave around the port of Liverpool, with a subtle political message at a time when the Thatcher premiership and the cold war were at their heights. There was a lot of anti-Russian propaganda in the press, but I was not prepared to hate a whole nation just because they had been demonised by the likes of press baron Robert Maxwell. I sent my script to every TV company in the land. They all said they loved it, but wouldnât do it. I suppose thatâs how censorship works. They donât reject you outright, just say thereâs no money. But I was part of the gay scene and there were always people dossing on my couch. One night, an heiress, Fiona Castleton, slept over after she missed the ferry back to the Isle of Man. She left me a note saying:
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