I feel bloody but unbeaten.

There were only three good reviews for The Principles Of Lust (Financial Times, Independent on Sunday, and Sunday Mirror), some weird mixed ones ("It would have worked if it was set in the past or the future" - ??? - according to The Times), and some peculiarly savage ones which declared the film had nothing of merit. Usual s**t review in the Guardian. What else is new?

It was painful but I had to suffer it, because I was even afraid that if I pretended not to care, a black dog would haunt me forever. (The strange thing is that adulation has almost the same effect - it's strange and destabilising.) So I have leaked my way around this week, tears falling out of my eyes without warning.

"SAVE UP THEIR SPECIAL BILE JUST FOR US"

I'm interested in why there should be a group of critics who routinely hunt in packs to destroy home grown movies - "too risky", "not risky enough"... let's just stick the boot in anyway - while praising or being more considered about all kinds of other nonsense. It's as if they save up their special bile just for us. I can genuinely understand that The Principles Of Lust is not for everyone. But it is at least a distinctive piece of work and it has something to say. The performances are terrific. A lot of heavyweights in the industry have admired it so there can't be nothing good in it. So why the sadistic vitriol? (A lot of hysteria about the violence. But as my friend Sarah said. "Nobody dies. Nobody even nearly dies." And violence should be nasty.)

Unless a tiny film is recommended, it will indeed die. George Faber, who is producing my two current projects, told me earlier that a tiny film must be recommended enthusiastically to stand a chance. The Matrix Reloaded can survive bad or mixed reviews, so can The Return Of The King with its many, many endings and thousands and thousands of deaths, but small films can't. Maybe if my film had subtitles or was made by an Iranian (and I am very happy that Iranian films get hyped), it would have fared better.

I haven't been lonely though. In an industry renowned for backbiting, I've had a lot of generous support and I am very grateful for it. George has been great. And Madonna and Michael and Jan and Robin and Sophie. You may not want to take advice from someone who has just fallen flat on their face but do choose to work with people who are good at their jobs. And just as crucially, choose people you like, who like and believe in you. Making films is very, very difficult, whether or not they succeed, and having a team composed of those who don't feel compelled to make you feel bad about yourself is the difference between heaven and hell.

On Thursday I had to go to a screening and discussion at Channel 4. Just before Christmas I directed Six Scenes for Alison Walsh, the C4 Disabilities Advisor. These were scenes from feature films and mainstream soaps and dramas featuring disabled actors. Mandy Colleran, a very funny Scouser who is also very tiny and in a wheelchair, did the fake orgasm scene from When Harry Met Sally; Matt Fraser, a fabulous actor with very short arms, did a love scene from EastEnders, etc. We invited casting agents, drama commissioners, producers, and directors to watch the tape in the hope of inspiring them to consider actors with disabilities for parts which are not written for disabled people. Neutral casting has moved forward for Black and Asian actors and enriched all of us, so we want to open the door for disabled actors.

"NURSE MY REPTILE HEART"

Of all weeks! I felt like a publicly humiliated, wounded beast and would have liked a bit longer to lick my wounds in private. Grow a bit of skin. Nurse my reptile heart. (A friend suggested I had one and could therefore cast off skin quite easily and grow more.) But it was an inspiring session and renewed my faith in humanity.

There was a drink afterwards, and instead of being pitied or scorned over the death of my film, I found that nobody even knew it was on! So bad reviews seem to do that. Make things invisible. People were asking when they could see it and make their own minds up. But it was already too late...