The Lost World of Mr Hardy

Back in August 2006 we were ready to begin, and set off to discover and explore The Lost World of Mr. Hardy. We travelled the length and breadth of the British Isles, meeting and filming people who have dedicated their lives to their art; amongst them the many craftsmen in Alnwick who worked for Hardy’s all their life, plus dedicated river-keepers, fanatical fishermen, collectors, publishers and auctioneers, all manner of experts in angling and its history. We met the passionate individuals dotted around the country who still make quality rods, reels and fishing tackle by hand, people who share that idea that Hardy’s was all about.

We discovered we were telling a story with real enthusiasm and warmth. Our film is about people who have dedicated their working life to their passion, and we committed everything we could to telling that story. We uncovered an astonishing film library initiated by Hardy's in the 1920s and found the first ever colour fishing films!

The Times October 30, 2009 Hooked on a history of rod and line A spectacular new fishing documentary casts its spell Ken Russell RECOMMEND Go fishing. That’s exactly what you’ll want to do after seeing the spectacular new documentary film The Lost World of Mr Hardy. Made by the director Andy Heathcote and his partner Heike Bachelier with the same care, gentle humour and true aim with which a fishing devotee casts his line into sparkling water, the story follows the rise, fall and rebirth of the premier family-based fishing equipment manufacturer, Hardy’s of Alnwick and London. The film takes the contemplative subject of fly fishing and its components — the river, the rod, the reel, the fly, the fling of the line, the fish — and gives us a riveting entry into the values, quirks, dilemmas and sociological drama of true aficionados and the suppliers of “kit”. An insider’s love of the craft and its quality tools is conveyed brilliantly in this very British story of two brothers who invented precision fishing tackle in 1873 and opened a small shop in Alnwick, near the Scottish Border, to make and sell it. As a boy I knew about Hardy’s and its feathery coloured flies tailor-made to each fish species’ preference — everyone did. At one time, Hardy’s ruled the world from their perch in Pall Mall in London and, as the film tells us, employed most of Alnwick in its village plant. Three generations of Hardy boys designed and distributed elegant and well-made fishing equipment that maharajahs, kings and queens all vied to possess — including the Prince of Wales, who requested two vintage Hardy rods as a wedding present. The Lost World of Mr Hardy tells an evocative story of quality and ethically based manufacturing through interviews, archive footage and a gorgeous musical score of violin and cello by Stephen Daltry — breathtaking in its simplicity, beauty and effectiveness. It perfectly amplifies a tale about delicacy, nature and the bittersweet hope that such things might survive in our brave new world. The Hardy brothers’ silent archival footage from 1937, featuring some of the first colour film and shot by S. S. Hardy’s chauffeur, showcases giant fish, pristine rivers and plus-four fishing outfits. Even more compelling are the charming and candid reminiscences of James Hardy himself, born the same year as I was, the grandson of the originators of the company. He was the last family proprietor, for 50 years, before the company was transferred with the best will in the world to corporate interests. This story is told through eloquent and forthright interviewees such as Hardy and his former workers, concluding with the new inheritors of a bygone talent. Errors are admitted, a passion for fishing is made plausible and gorgeous river landscapes dazzle. I defy you to watch with a dry eye. The greater issue accumulates forcefully but quietly — the value of craftsmanship in a global economy preoccupied with quantity. For 137 years the Hardy family company operated on the premise that “only the best is good enough for fishermen”. Each reel was hand-stamped with the famous logo, each split-cane rod tempered in the bakers’ ovens next door. Flies were “dressed”, not “tied”. Rods were hand-sheathed in scabbards, like magic swords. “Our products had soul, had meaningfulness,” explains one artisan with a long history at the company. The tenderly rendered process of making works of engineering splendour, the dignity and melancholy of Hardy and his foremen, the apologetic but pragmatic stance of the new owners who now make the rods in the Far East, the devotion and poetic style of the handful of new designer-craftsmen — all make for an emotionally compelling tour de force. Heathcote uses the same skills that The Lost World showcases. He and Bachelier bought camera, lights and an editing suite on credit cards and took off on a road journey to the territory of his youth, near Fife, where he’d first fished streams as a teenager seeking the romance of solitude. The Hardy’s rods and reels that were always out of reach became his Rosebud, spurring him to build in two years a film that lets the artefacts, the people who made them and the fishing pleasures to which they were put, speak for themselves. The Lost World of Mr Hardy is deep. It reconfigures the principle of “more stuff, more activity, less time” into a relatedness that interweaves time with imagination, poignancy and eternity. Like fishing. Screening dates and DVD sales of The Lost World of Mr Hardy at www.trufflepigfilms.com (01323 811977)