The Special Award – Nicola Shindler

After more than 20 years at the top of the UK television pyramid, Nicola Shindler can’t help being a pragmatist. While talking about her dream to continue making the drama she loves, she quickly interjects, “But while being realistic and knowing it’s a business and that we have to give people what they want. You can’t forget that. You have to be aware of what’s going to get on television.”

Shindler’s brand of practicality, however, stems from a genuine passion for the art form, storytelling and, most of all, writers. “Writing is the hardest job,” she says with clear affection. “Because they can do it in their pyjamas, people sometimes think it’s easy. It so isn’t – writing a really good script is astonishingly difficult. So much so that I don’t like to waste writers’ time. I’ll say, ‘I don’t think I’ll ever get that made’, which is a horrible thing to have to say but it’s better than them writing something that never gets made. Everything I do comes from the writer’s voice. You have to understand what the writer’s trying to say, what they want us to do, how it should feel… It’s the best and hardest part of the job.”

Before setting up Red Production Company – named for her beloved Manchester United – from her living room in 1998, aged 29, the fire of Shindler’s professional philosophy was sparked by her first job in television.

“It was on the first series of Cracker,” she says. “Getting to listen to Jimmy McGovern – an incredible writer – was just so lucky. He taught me that you shouldn’t have any fear; that you should go for every single idea you’ve got. And you don’t need to make characters ‘likeable’, they can be much more interesting. I learned a huge amount from him.”

Crucially, that included a devotion to believability. “You have to believe in the characters,” she asserts. “If you do, you can defend or change anything else. We get a lot of really good notes from broadcasters and you have to listen but you also have to keep the truth of what you’re doing. You can do that if what you have is very honest.” She pauses. “And hugely entertaining.”

Truth, honesty, passion, pragmatism and entertainment – a compelling roadmap for creative success. And Shindler has the CV to back it up: Queer as Folk, Clocking Off, Scott & Bailey, Last Tango in Halifax, Happy Valley – altogether earning her six BAFTA wins over the years. And now she’s working on a Netflix show with prolific thriller writer Harlan Coben.

“Anytime something made a difference has been brilliant,” Shindler says of her prolific career. “Starting with Queer as Folk, which was amazing. Then launching BBC Three with Burn It; I’m very proud of that series. Right now, I love working with Harlan at Netflix – it’s a really different, exciting approach. If you look back at our work, it’s always had elements of serialised storytelling, even when making traditional ‘stories of the week’. That’s what I’ve always been drawn to and, ironically, that’s what television has turned into now.”

After an early decision to swap theatre for television, Cambridge-graduate Shindler landed a stint as a trainee at the BBC before moving back up north to work for Granada. Her northern credentials – she was raised in Rochdale and Bury – are often directly associated with her work, but, interestingly are not her driving force.

“I don’t care where a series is set,” she states. “It could be set on the moon. I work with a lot of writers from here, we film a lot here, we’re based here and I do think it’s really important to have voices on television that aren’t from the south, but I would never choose a story because of that. Truthful characters can come from anywhere and they are what allow you to do something as extreme as Queer as Folk.”

So, truthfully, for someone who admits to not being a big fan of the spotlight, how does it feel being honoured by BAFTA? “I’m scared of the speech, obviously,” she admits. “I’d like to thank everyone I’ve ever worked with… but I’ll have to work that out on the night. I am thrilled. My mother’s delighted – that’s very important. Hopefully it shows that if you work really hard, and have quite a lot of luck, then you’ll be recognised.”

Shindler likes the idea of a producer winning the Special Award acting as an inspiration, even if she flinches at the reality of it being her. However, when asked what advice she’d give to aspiring producers, her natural enthusiasm quickly returns. “Even though it’s very difficult for indies at the moment, if you have an idea that feels different and cutting edge there is a way forward,” she says. “There’s so much around now that you have to make things that punch through. Shows that aren’t easily summed up are hard to sell. Even something like Last Tango In Halifax – it’s hard to put your finger on what it is, other than a family saga, which made it tough to get it commissioned. It would be even harder now. There isn’t much room for beautiful small work, unless you frame it in something else. Like Butterfly, which we did last year for ITV: essentially a small family story, but because it had the hot topic of a transitioning child, it felt bigger.”

Shindler’s true gift is balancing those two key components, practicality and creativity. She is adamant that a producer must keep current, and understand why that’s important, but then, on a fundamental level, they must preserve the heart of what they’re trying to make rather than fit to a fashion. “The broadcaster’s paying for it so you have to give them what they want,” she says. “But a massive part of my job is about listening to what people really want. Sometimes it’s hard to articulate because there’s no right and wrong.”

As the conversation wraps up, a last, quick question pops up – what does she really want to make, ignoring all the industry pressures and changes? “I should say a massive, huge £5m-anepisode global show,” she smiles. “But, no – I’d just love to do a returning series where you set up characters that people want to come back again and again. And not just for business reasons. It’s brilliant to be on the fourth, fifth, sixth series with characters that work. I really like that.” After a pause, she adds: “But that’s not what the industry wants right now…”

A pragmatist to the end. •

Words by Rich Matthews