WHEN more or less the whole of the fissiparous Scottish film industry manages to unite to lambast Scottish Screen and plead for a single agency for film in Scotland that in itself speaks volumes.

Given that organisation's pathetic performance and lack of leadership over the years, and particularly of late, we should not be surprised that Ken Hay's response is so off-target and anodyne. "Change is good" is his only mantra, wrapped up in the classic obscurantist managerial jargon which marks his breed and our benighted times.

In Cannes last month, I picked up the current Danish Film Catalogue which listed an output of feature films averaging about 30 every year. In our own similarly-sized nation we struggle to produce a tenth of that number.

And Scottish Screen's response? A retreat into a hiding place of education and skills - all already taken care of by other agencies, of course. The difficult and sometimes nasty business of upping our feature output (which remains a hallmark of any truly cultured society, despite what Hay says) is shunned, while in London the Film Council brings in a scheme providing pre-production finance. The contrast between the southern professionals and the northern amateurs could not be more marked.

I was also spluttering over my cornflakes when I read his "open invitation to the whole of the screen industry sector to work with us in ensuring that this happens". This from a man who (with his colleagues) went into hiding last year during the very difficult production of The Flying Scotsman and who specifically refused to discuss or give any response for refusing to release GBP170,000 of lottery finance contractually committed to the production. They are still grimly holding on to the money, while many crew and suppliers remain unpaid.

Neither can we take any comfort from the unnamed Scottish Executive spokesman who stated clearly that the unexamined mergerwith the Scottish Arts Council would continue. So much for dialogue with the industry, then or now.

To borrow from the old parlour game, if Scottish Screen were a movie character, it would have to be Mickey Mouse.

Peter Broughan (Producer Rob Roy, The Flying Scotsman), Gartocharn.

YOUR current debate on the future of Scottish film seems to ring many bells. As the 43-year-old son of a Glasgow film director, Laurence Henson, I was brought up in the middle of one the Scottish film industry's many fits and starts.

The late 1960s and early 1970s showed the promise of a burgeoning Scottish industry with many well-known names getting early work with my father and his partner, Eddie McConnel. Bill Forsyth and the late Charlie Gormely to name but two. I also remember Ian Smith sharing office space with my father's company, IFA Scotland Ltd.

So what happened? Much the same as now I suspect, lack of political will in seizing the opportunity to capitalise on the industry and passion of the Scottishbased film-makers, writers and actors. Political shortsightedness, industry and passion are things we have in abundance in Scotland.

My father remains passionate about film and still works in the industry. He moved to Dublin about 15 years ago.

Stephen Henson, 4 Weymouth Court, 207 Weymouth Drive, Glasgow.