Writer Irvine Welsh pays tribute to the inspirational film and TV director whom he was a partner with in the British production company 4Way
• See the Observer's obituaries of 2013 in full here
I first met Antonia Bird in the late 90s, and in 2001 she and Robert Carlyle and [the film-maker and critic] Mark Cousins invited me to become partners with them in a production company. When they asked me, I thought, God, how many years in film school would that be worth? Mark, an encyclopedia of film; Bobby, one of the greatest actors of his generation; and Antonia, this amazing director: who could say no to that?
The first proper meeting we had, I walked from Islington down to her house near Brick Lane, in Jack the Ripper country. It was one of these really drizzly London days, but I was so excited about all the ideas I wanted to share with her that I didn't realise I was absolutely soaked. Antonia noticed straight away, and the first thing she did was get me a pair of dry socks, a towel and a cup of tea, and make sure I was nice and dry and cosy before we got started. That really struck me: great directors have that attention to detail – they look after the people they're working with.
I hit it off with her straight away. She was a fireball of energy and enthusiasm. It didn't matter how jaded you felt beforehand, you just couldn't help getting animated in her presence; it was like she slipped a bouncy castle under your bum. Her enthusiasm was infectious. She was very knowledgeable and erudite and smart, but very down to earth, and she threw ideas around like confetti. That was a good lesson for me, because as a writer you're a bit of a hoarder; if you have an idea, you tend to keep it to yourself.
I had this script, "The Meat Trade", that we tried in vain to get made. We had a lot of chances over the years to do it on lower budgets, but Antonia kept fighting for the higher budget she felt the script deserved. That's the elephant in the room in British film: no independent film-maker ever gets a swift, painless cheque. Even the likes of Danny Boyle and Mike Leigh have to fight long and hard, but being men they probably have it easier than the Antonia Birds of this world.
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Still, she had tremendous range as a director, from Safe to Ravenous to things that she didn't get a lot of credit for, like The Hamburg Cell, which for me is still the best exploration of 9/11. Her personality – her boldness, her intelligence and enthusiasm – always comes to the fore in her films.
Actors loved working with her. She once said that she moved from theatre to film so that she could see what was happening in the actors' eyes. She had her own amazingly expressive eyes. I remember going through the breakup of a long-term relationship and getting the odd glance from her, to let me know that she was there for me. She didn't need to labour the point. I remember thinking at the time: how secure and safe an actor must feel in her hands.
I miss her so much. I can't believe I'm not going to see her again. She used to sweep back her hair all the time, and I would find myself sweeping back imagined locks of hair in an involuntary tribute to her.
I'll remember her as a great, eclectic, humanistic, radical director, and a very uncompromising person, but also a very loving, warm and caring human being. Not in a drippy way: she was quite hard-ass as well and didn't suffer fools gladly. But that was good for me. I tend to mess around a bit and she was very good at centring me, saying, right, enough you, focus on the job at hand. She was a tremendous person, an incredible life force. It's just so difficult to think of someone like that not being around any more.