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Chris Waitt (born Christopher Martyn Preston Waitt, February 8, 1974) is an independent filmmaker, musician and writer from Brighton, England.
Waitt was born to a half-Scottish mother, Hilary, and a Northumbrian father, Martyn, though he grew up mainly on the south coast of England in the quiet seaside town of Worthing-by-Sea.
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Martin (deceased) is stuck in a dead-end job, welcoming the newly departed into the afterlife. All he dreams of is going 'Up There'. But his plans are thrown into disarray when he has to team up with the relentlessly chirpy Rash and together they lose a new arrival. The mismatched pair give chase and end up in a remote seaside town populated by cocky teenagers, sinister old women and the enigmatic Liz, who has 'suicide written all over her'. Can they stop bickering long enough to find the lost soul? Will Rash be reunited with his brother Chunky? And can Martin get back in time to finally get 'Up There'? UP THERE is a killer comedy about life, death and irritating friends.
The egocentric documentary-maker Chris Waitt traces his romantic ineptitude and sexual impotence through awkward interviews with irate ex-girlfriends and stunts involving S&M parlours, Harley Street doctors and Viagra overdoses. The results are often hilarious, sometimes moving and speak directly to the hapless paramour in all of us.
Former London constable Nicholas Angel finds it difficult to adapt to his new assignment in the sleepy British village of Sandford. Not only does he miss the excitement of the big city, but he also has a well-meaning oaf for a partner. However, when a series of grisly accidents rocks Sandford, Angel smells something rotten in the idyllic village.
Martin (1966-2002) introduces himself. More than three years ago, he was struck by a car in the city centre; he died of the injuries. Now he wanders the streets, unseen by the living, waiting to find out if he'll be sent up or down. He fills his days walking, going to movies, and thinking. He regrets that he didn't dispose of his stash of pornography - he meant to. His grieving widow found it. Every two weeks, he goes to grief therapy. He waits.