“If you were a fuckknuckle all your life, that would be hell.”

“Not catching too many crims, are you?”

Noise is this month’s selection from the Film Movement DVD-of-the-month club. As I noted in an earlier post, foreign or independent films never arrive at my local cinema, and since I really enjoy the titles selected by Film Movement, I decided to sign on with their DVD club. Monthly membership works out to be less than the cost of two cinema tickets.

Noise from Australian writer/director Matthew Saville is nothing short of brilliant. That said, I will add that after watching this stunning film, I toodled across the Internet to see what reviewers were saying. I was surprised to read some lukewarm reviews of this wonderful film, but after chewing this over, I’ve decided that it’s due in part to the film’s theme, which is likely to attract a wide audience–some of whom may expect something a bit less elusive.

On one level, Noise follows the investigations of two crimes that occur around Christmas time in a working class suburb of Melbourne. Lavinia Smart (Maia Thomas) a young woman whose headphones blunt her sensory perceptions, enters a late night train only to discover a scene of carnage. The grisly bloody discovery of seven victims inside the train is followed the next day by the discovery of the body of a missing woman. While the community reels from these two tragedies, residents of Sunshine begin to wonder if the crimes are connected.

Meanwhile police Constable Graham McGahan (Brendan Cowell) is experiencing persistent ringing in his ears. His unsympathetic grumpy supervisor assigns McGahan the nightshift in a community police caravan parked near where the missing woman was last seen. McGahan is the first person to admit he isn’t much of a police officer. This is a career he’s drifted into, and perhaps that explains why he doesn’t fit the mold. Stuck with a humorless coworker and an unsympathetic boss who thinks McGahan is a slacker, this lackluster less-than-gung ho policeman sits out his shifts in the caravan. He’s supposed to mesh with the community, gather tips, and talk to possible witnesses, so he hands out flyers and condoms and interacts with various locals, “Lucky” Phil (Simon Laherty), the grief stricken fiancé of the murder victim, and an aggressive weirdo.

While the film ostensibly revolves around the solution to the murders, Noise is not a police procedural. Instead it’s a character study, and while the film seems to begin with the dilemma of Lavinia Smart, the plot very soon shifts to its protagonist McGahan. Terrified that he may have cancer, and waiting anxiously for a Dr’s report, McGahan hides his fears under a veneer of detachment, but he also fights feelings of alienation and self-pity. His hearing problem is literally and figuratively isolating McGahan from his girlfriend, but forced to sit out his shifts in the community caravan, various characters pierce through McGahan’s isolation.

Ultimately the film makes some strong yet elusively subtle comments about Australian society. This is a society in which seven people are randomly and rapidly slaughtered and a young woman simply disappears. Noise may connect us to other human beings–but it’s just that–noise–a substitute for human interaction and emotion. The film presents a world of isolation: a world in which the stronger pick on the weak, and the psychotic slaughter at will. McGahan’s physical problem may isolate him from his girlfriend, but it’s the emotional isolation in society that is far more dangerous.

The film emphasizes sound elements–and sometimes the lack of them–throughout the story. There are some terrific scenes in the film: at one point, for example, McGahan driven almost mad by the ringing in his ears turns on every machine in the house in order to generate enough sound to drown out the constant buzzing.

Those of us who prefer neat, clear and definitive endings may feel a certain amount of frustration at the film’s ambiguous conclusion. Personally, I loved the conclusion and I think the film addressed the meaning of the ending through textual references that occurred earlier in the plot.

If you enjoyed Lantana or Jindabyne, then there’s an excellent chance you’ll enjoy Noise. It’s truly a superb film. Anyway, for more info on FILM MOVEMENT go to www.filmmovement.com

“Best line my tummy so’s I’m able to perform.”

Australians always manage to create some of the most demented comedies I’ve ever seen, and Around the World in 80 Ways from director Stephen MacLean makes my list of top 10 all-time great comedies.

Wally Davis (Philip Quast), who according to his dad has “gone funny,” owns and operates a tour bus and runs a beachfront trailer/cafe shaped like a giant banana. After the trailer is repossessed, Wally heads home with the plan to raid the family savings account, but Mum, Mavis Davis (Diana Davidson) leaves for a long-desired whirlwind world tour dumping Dad, geriatric Roly Davis (Allan Penney) at the Twilight Rest Home as she heads for the airport. Wally’s dad suffers from “galloping senility” and has “started boring himself to death” thanks to a treacherous blow delivered by neighbour and former business partner the portly, toupee toting, used car salesman Alex Moffat (Rob Steele).

As Mavis Davis departs on the low budget tour that becomes the holiday package tour from hell, her lustful neighbour Alex Moffat unexpectedly joins her. Meanwhile Wally springs Dad from the rest home with the help of his younger brother Eddy (Kelly Dingwall), an “unemployable tragedy”, but all Dad wants to do is set off in hot pursuit of his wife arguing that Moffat, his rival, neighbour and ex-business partner,”pinched my business and now he’s trying to pinch my Mrs.”

But there’s a BIG problem….Wally needs the money in Dad’s savings account to bail out his trailer from repo. So instead of spending the savings on a world tour to catch Mavis, Wally and Eddy improvise. Since Dad only has 2% vision, they simply PRETEND to travel the world in pursuit of the ever-moving Mavis. Stops on the travel tour include: Hawaii, Las Vegas, Rome and Japan, and Wally creates all of these countries aided and abetted by Eddy, his sound system, Nurse Ophelia Cox (Gosia Dobrowolska), and a small army of inflatable dummies. Oh, and Wally ‘borrows’ Moffat’s “Wedding Cake of a house” named “Tara Moffat” for his world tour. While Mavis is dragged across the world, enduring one miserable experience after another, Roly Davis has the time of his life at home.

You have to see this film to believe it–some of the best scenes, for me at least, are in “Las Vegas” when Wally is both a chorus girl and Elvis, and the way in which Wally creates fake flights and airports is brilliant, amazing, and hysterically funny. And take a good long look at the tour guide, Lotta Boyle (Judith Fisher)–she looks uncannily like Hilary Clinton. The way in which the film juxtaposes the real tour with the fake tour is brilliant, but beneath all this comedy, there’s a motto here: you don’t have to travel the world to have the time of your life. If you loved Muriel’s Wedding or Welcome to Woop Woop you will enjoy this insane comedy film too.

“We found a body.”

Jindabyne is a small, rural Australia community with a strange history. The old town is buried under a lake, and the residents now live in the new town, which is built around the lake’s shore. The town’s residents accept this very matter-of-factly–although of course the viewer wonders just what happened to the people who lived in the old town that’s now several feet under water. Did they move away? Were they all drowned? There are elements of life and history hidden beneath the lake’s shimmering, clear surface, and there are buried stories and histories in the pasts of a great many of the film’s characters. But the plot only gives us a few answers to the questions it poses, but then that’s not too surprising, as the film doesn’t seem particularly concerned with providing solutions. The film refuses to tie up the plot into a neat little ending, and this may prove frustrating to some, but for me at least, the film possesses a strange, haunting quality that’s difficult to forget.

Deserted, winding roads lead in and out of the town of Jindabyne, and from the photography, it seems to stuck in the middle of nowhere. It’s a small town–the sort of place in which everyone knows everyone else–or at least they think they do. But the size of the town and the residents’ relationships with one another mask some rather ugly, sharp divisions within the community. The aborigines are separate from the whites, and in the white community, the males tend to stick together and rally around one another. There’s almost an old-fashioned sense to the women’s roles here–kitchen, house, community, and school. But then the murder of a young aborigine girl draws attention to the unhealthy divisions within this small knit community.

Central to the plot is the marriage of Stewart (Gabriel Byrne) and his wife, Claire (Laura Linney). Stewart owns and operates a small petrol station in the town, and there are references to his past as a driver. This is only alluded to, and we never really know how Stewart and his wife ended up in this little town. Stewart and Claire have one child together. Their marriage is fraught with tension, but the cause seems unclear–perhaps it’s due to long-term resentments, or perhaps they’re just incompatible….

Stewart plans his annual fishing trip with three male friends. This trip is a big deal for the men–a chance to get away from the women and just have a good time. Shortly after the men hike up in the backcountry, however, they discover the body of a young aborigine girl. Rather than call an end to their fishing trip, they make the decision to leave her body where it is and keep fishing. When they return to town, the men then collectively concoct a story to cover the delay in reporting the body.

Most of the film is concerned with the fallout from this incident and the ramifications on the four men who found the body and chose to delay reporting it. But the film also shows the wider ramifications of the incident as the men’s callous reaction ripples through the community. Claire is particularly affected by her husband’s actions, and all the rot, the resentment and the simmering rage in their relationship float to the surface

Based on a Raymond Carver story, Jindabyne is from director Ray Lawrence. In some sense, the film’s style is reminiscent of Lantana–although Jindabyne isn’t as good a film. The fact that the murdered girl is aborigine introduces a racial element to the film, and this shifts the film’s emphasis in another direction. The implication is that the men would not have abandoned the body of a white girl, and I’m really not sure about that….

An unforgettable, true story

Rabbit-Proof Fence is the incredible true story of three Aborigine girls, Gracie, Daisy and Molly, who were removed against their mother’s wishes–by the Australian government in the 1930’s. This was all part of a rather sinister government programme designed to remove half-caste children from the Aborigine way of life and habituate them to the whites’ way of life. In this film, the children are taken from the Jigalong Tribe–whose camp runs adjacent to a rabbit-proof fence, and taken to the Moore River Camp more than 1,500 miles away. The children are taken and—why was I shocked at this–trained to be servants for the whites. The children with light skin are supposedly sent to school to be educated, and the darker-skinned children are trained for menial labour. But I really wonder how many ‘qualified’ for an education. And all this was done, of course, under the sanctimonious guise of betterment for the Aborginal half-caste children.

The three children are abruptly and cruelly removed from their homes. Caged and treated like animals, the older girl wisely assesses the situation and makes her decision. Molly soon takes a chance when she sees it, makes her escape and dragging the other two girls, they begin walking the 1,500 miles back home along the rabbit-proof fence, and this 1,500 miles is very rugged terrain.

I was genuinely shocked to learn that it was the Australian government’s policy from the 1930s up until 1970 to separate these children from their homes and their parents. While the children were removed–supposedly for their own good so they could integrate into the houses of the white Australians (and civilisation), they are given no utensils to use during meals at their new “school,” are dressed in cheap shifts, and told to urinate in a bucket that is emptied once a day.  The children are destined to become cheap/free sources of labour for white households.

Kenneth Branagh does a marvellous job as Mr Neville–the chillingly dedicated reformer with a mission to clean up and sanitize the half-caste ‘problem.’ Everlyn Sampi is simply amazing as Molly, the aborigine girl whose wisdom, fortitude and stubborn streak makes her succeed where others have failed. Keep an eye out for the Moore River tracker–a sympathetic character in spite of the ugliness of his job. This is a beautiful film–stunning and unforgettable–a celebration of the triumph of the human spirit. From director Phillip Noyce, the film is based on the book by Doris Pilkington.

“I thought a big snail was sliding up my nightie.”

After watching director Jane Campion’s film Sweetie for the third time, I am more impressed than ever. The Piano is Campion’s more mainstream film, and some viewers may be disappointed in Sweetie.

It’s the tale of a dysfunctional Aussie family–Mum & Dad (Gordon and Flo) and their two daughters–Kay (Karen Colston) and Dawn (Genevieve Lemon). Kay, a nurse, is a very odd, quiet and withdrawn character. She’s terrified of trees and despised by her workmates. Kay and boyfriend, Louis, have serious problems, and Louis is mystified by Kay’s sudden recent withdrawal. But when Sweetie arrives on the scene, the root cause of Kay’s problem is suddenly clearer. Kay’s sister Dawn–also known as “Sweetie” is a perfect horror. Sweetie arrives announced at Kay’s house one day, breaks in, and makes herself quite at home. “You stopped taking your medication, didn’t you?” asks Kay in frustration, and apparently, Sweetie is unleashed on an unsuspecting world. Sweetie brings along her boyfriend/producer, Bob. Bob is apparently the only person left in the world who believes that Sweetie has talent. But he’s under the influence of illegal substances, so he’s hardly a reliable source. Sweetie is idolized by her dotty father, and she trades on a childhood skill of stepping off of a chair and tap-dancing. This is supposed to be the great talent that is going to get Sweetie a recording contract.

Sweetie’s behaviour may have drawn adoring crowds of relatives in her childhood, but now she’s delusional, and destructive. Meanwhile, Sweetie’s mother, Flo, unable to take the stress of living under Sweetie’s despotic rule, takes a job in the outback as a cook for a ranch full of Jackaroos.

Every family has a Sweetie. In this film, Sweetie is encouraged in her deviant behaviour by her father–note the bathtub scene. The film reminds me of a sentence from Tolstoy’s Anna Karenina– “Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.” Sweetie’s arrival has serious consequences for everyone, and her presence is sobering. A lifetime of doting parenting catches up with the characters in a catastrophic way. Louis has to take a long hard look at his relationship with Kay, and tells her “illusions don’t go away–they become more subtle.” As the film continues, many of the scenes take on a surreal quality and echo the bizarre nature of life with Sweetie.  Genevieve Lemon as Sweetie really steals the film with an incredible performance.

“You make me feel like an enemy of art.”

Garage Days is an energetic Australian comedy that follows the antics of a rock band as they make an attempt at fame. The big problems are finding a gig, internal arguments between band members, and getting a decent manager.

Band members are lead singer Freddy (Kick Gurry), waif-like girlfriend Tanya (Pia Miranda), guitarist, Joe (Brett Stiller), and drummer, Billy Idol look-a-like, Lucy (Chris Sadrinna). They are managed by the well meaning but totally hopeless, Bruno (Russell Dykstra). Just as the band pushes for a first gig, Freddy crosses the line by kissing Joe’s girlfriend, Kate (Maya Stange). This incident triggers internal conflicts and the film’s romantic element. Freddy pursues a slightly sleazy manager, Shad Kern (Marton Csokas), and this gives him a glimpse into the world he so desperately wants to join.

Garage Days is an uneven film. It’s well edited, colourful, and full of life. The plot is original in spots, but cliched in others. One of the weakest areas of the film is the ongoing sub plot/joke concerning Joe and his melon. It was silly, and rapidly grew old. On the other hand, Joe’s underlying mental problems were handled with great originality. Like most Australian films, the story is packed full of quirky characters. Joe’s dad, Kevin (Andy Anderson), for example, is an old rocker from the 70s. He spends his days reminiscing about the past and urging the band on. The film’s strength is in the characterizations and its fundamental firm grounding in reality. I doubt I would have enjoyed the film half as much were it not for the fact that it’s Australian–and that means it’s cheeky, bold, and funny.

Worth watching just for Collette’s performance alone

Japanese Story, an Australian film, works very well–just as long as you don’t think about it too much. Geologist Sandy Edwards (Toni Collette) is given the very unwelcome job of hosting VIP Japanese businessman Tachibana Hiromitsu (Gotaro Tsunashima) on a tour of the backcountry. They immediately get off on the wrong foot. He doesn’t seem to grasp the fact that she’s a professional woman, and he’s a bit offended that he’s stuck with a “woman driver”. She’s already annoyed that she’s been relegated to chauffeur status, and then when she’s expected to lug his suitcase around, well it’s all a bit much. Before too long, and after a little adversity, there’s a nice little romance simmering away on the billabong. It’s all made extra glamourous and interesting by the absolutely breathtaking scenery.

After the film ended, I found myself realising (and I will admit that this dawned on me slowly) that I’d been sold a bill of stinky goods. This film only works if you plug into the racial stereotypes at the foundation of this film–nice polite, shy Japanese businessman meets rough and tumble Aussie girl. All this big sky, big space business. Well it’s just a bit cliched. If Tachibana had been an American, an Italian, or a Frenchman let’s say, would we have same the final impression, or would the word sleazebucket spring to mind? I was fascinated, however, with the erotic scene we were privy to. He was feminized, and she was definitely the masculine figure here. A bit kinky if you ask me….

Toni Collette is a phenomenal actress, and she really acts her heart out for this role. In Japanese Story, she’s so good, that it’s easy to think you’re watching something extraordinary. I can’t say enough complimentary things about her performance, and she’ll have most viewers reaching for their hankies. She’s worth a dozen Hollywood starlets any day.

“She’s not adverse to the occasional fish finger.”

Australian film He Died With a Felafel in His Hand is based on the cult novel by John Birmingham. The film follows unemployed Danny (Noah Taylor) through three (of 49) shared-housing situations in the Australian cities of Brisbane, Melbourne, and Sydney, and each episode illustrates the problems endured with roommates. In the Brisbane house, for example, a motley group of young people cohabits in squalor, and even adding numerous roommates still does not mean that the rent is paid. One roommate is permanently parked in front of the television set, and he controls the remote. Another roommate lives in a small tent in the front room, and for his privilege, he pays half the usual rent. When Pagan, Anya (Romane Bohringer) moves in, and begins practicing rituals in the front garden, skinheads descend on the home, and mayhem ensues.

Packed with quirky characters, and scenes of domestic destruction, parts of the film are blisteringly funny. Danny’s story about Muriel, and the scene at the unemployment office were great. Unfortunately, bizarre moments are carried to extremes (the Pagan rituals for example), and then the film slides into absurdity and silliness. Throughout the film’s insanity, Danny is an almost emotionless witness, absorbing it all, and surviving it too. In the final evaluation, the film is too chaotic to really carry an effective message other than it’s horrible to live with other people.

“What’s that got to do with your hand on my bottom?”

In the Australian comedy, Don’s Party, it’s election night, 1969. Don Henderson (John Hargreaves), a university professor decides to hold a party, and he invites a wide assortment of friends–married couples, swinging singles, and a newly separated man. Tensions are already obvious between Don and his wife, Kath (Jeanie Drynan) even before the party begins. But with the beer flowing, and opinions strongly divided on the results of the election, it doesn’t take long before the social niceties disintegrate.

Guests include: a volatile, jealous dentist, Evan (Kit Taylor), and his beautiful, slinky wife Kerry (Candy Raymond). The rambunctious, randy Cooley (Harold Hopkins) drags along his free-love minded 19 year old, Susan (Claire Binney). Stuffy pipe-smoking Simon (Graeme Blundell) attends with his naive wife, Jody (Veronic Lang). Mal (Ray Barrett) and his bitterly unhappy wife, Jenny (Pat Bishop) throw looks of unmistakable loathing at each other all evening. Mack (Graham Kennedy) has just separated from his wife, and he brings along a large naked photograph of the wife, so that she can maintain a presence at the party too. Mack, it seems, has a nasty little habit involving cameras.

The truly great thing about this film is the manner in which it captures human behaviour in social situations. Jody, for example, at the beginning of the film, is the most attractive woman at the party. The men gather around her like flies, luring her away from her husband, and subtly laying the groundwork for a series of sly, emasculating digs at her socially inept and passive husband. When Kerry and her husband show up, the resident males try the same tactics with her husband, but his explosive reaction signals their temporary retreat. While the married women fuss over Simon’s admirable characteristics, they can’t help but loudly compare their husbands’ inadequacies as providers, etc. The film maintains an intimate atmosphere throughout, and the setting–Don’s House, reinforces this. The film, directed by Bruce Beresford, is adapted from a successful stage play, and it’s really a very funny, excellent portrayal of bored married couples who are unleashed for a night of fun and fighting. The DVD quality is ok–not great, but then the film was made in the 70s.

“You’re not normal, Danny.”

In the delightful Australian comedy Danny Deckchair, Danny (Rhys Ifans) is a cement worker who lives for his yearly two weeks holiday. This year, he plans to go camping with his long-time girlfriend real-estate agent, Trudy (Justine Clarke). But Trudy has her ambitious eye on television reporter, smarmy Sandy Upman (Rhys Muldoon), so the holiday is cancelled. Danny is full of imagination, so when Trudy arranges a consolation holiday BBQ, Danny decides to experiment with one of his ideas. He ties helium balloons onto his deckchair, and in front of a house full of guests, he floats away.

Danny lands in a small town where the town’s lonely female traffic officer Glenda Lake (Miranda Otto) takes him in and passes him off as a former professor. Meanwhile, a frenzied media circus is forming around Trudy’s house, and Trudy can’t decide whether to grieve or take advantage of Sandy Upman’s proximity.

Danny Deckchair is a pleasant, light romantic comedy made more amusing by the film’s many bizarre characters. The character of Danny, however, is problematic, and the film’s portrayal of Danny–now the Renaissance man who secretly harboured great wisdom is a bit silly. But this is a light, amusing goodhearted distraction, and enjoyable in spite of its flaws. Danny Deckchair–believe it or not–is based on a true story.