About Australia (Culture)

Australian Films
No visitor to Australia these days will be unaware of the popularity and respect for the Australian film industry since the early 1970s. It is generally agreed (with deference to a 1900 Salvation Army promo, Stations of the Cross) that The Story of the Kelly Gang, made by Charles Tait in 1906, was the world’s first feature-length film. Australians’ well-known antagonism towards figures of authority soon led to a hugely popular series of bushranger movies, eventually to be banned in 1912 by the New South Wales police on the grounds that their unsympathetic portrayal in these pictures was corrupting youngsters.
This early heyday of Australian film-making predated that of Hollywood and persisted with the production of various World War I morale boosters, despite the creation of a distribution duopoly (known as the “combine”) which showed little interest in independent Australian films outside its control. With the ending of the war and its many cinematic testaments to the heroic disaster of Gallipoli, Australian silent cinema reached a creative peak. Raymond Longford was Australia’s Spielberg of Silents at this time, and his 1919 production of The Sentimental Bloke and its sequel, Ginger Mick, a year later, were popular and notably naturalist dramas about a woman’s taming of her larrikin husband’s proclivities. Along with the already established contempt for authority, Longford’s films featured a distrust of sophistication and formality and, even then, the mythic spell of “the bush” began to make its mark on Australian productions.

Hollywood domination

Australian cinema continued to decline as the powerful Hollywood studios got into their stride and entered the Golden Age of Talkies. In 1933 the mildly reformed wild boy from Tasmania, Errol Flynn, starred in his first feature film, In the Wake of the Bounty, directed by Charles Chauvel, a leading figure in Australian film-making until the late 1950s.

During World War II there was a return to newsreels and documentaries, with the legendary cameraman, Damien Parer, earning Australia’s first Oscar for his account of the fighting in New Guinea (Kokoda Front Line, 1942). Following the war, however, Hollywood’s global domination of cinema was unassailed, and Australian cinema just about perished. Nevertheless, Chips Rafferty turned up as Australia’s answer to John Wayne, appearing in an unremarkable series of formula films, such as the scenically superb epic of bovine migration, The Overlanders (1946).

In the 1950s the British Ealing Studios and the American MGM set up production companies in Australia, turning out the odd Outback drama which was watered-down for international consumption (but not success). This era produced few notable Australian films other than Cecil Holmes’ return to the bushranger format in Captain Thunderbolt (1953), and his similarly leftist study of mateship, Three In One (1957). Chauvel’s remarkable Jedda,the Uncivilized (1955) was more unusual in that it tackled the tricky issue of an Aboriginal girl’s white upbringing, sexual temptation and subsequent abduction back to tribal life, where a tragic death inevitably awaited her. If there is one subject Australian cinema still has difficulty in dealing with (the New Wave having finally come to grips with women as individuals), it is that of the Aborigines.

Australia was by now nothing more than an exotic, marsupial-speckled location for “kangaroo westerns” and other dramas where British and American actors could exercise their skills. In 1959 Stanley Kramer directed On the Beach, Nevil Shute’s post-Holocaust drama, with Ava Gardner, Gregory Peck and Fred Astaire tiptoeing through the fallout. A year later Fred Zinnemann directed Deborah Kerr and Robert Mitchum in The Sundowners, an affectionate classic of Outback itinerant labour.

Hot spots for film buffs and soap groupies

The majestic scenery of the Northern Territory has featured in many films. Kakadu National Park provided the setting for many of the scenes in Crocodile Dundee: familiar spots are possibly Anbangbang Billabong and Waterfall Creek. We of the Never Never was set in the Mataranka region, which, predictably, has been rechristened “Never Never” country; some costumes worn in the film are on display in the Old Courthouse and Residency in Alice Springs.

Desolation and Outback grandeur have a stranglehold on the science-fiction and post-apocalyptic genres. Locations for Mad Max II include the Silverton area of New South Wales; as his parting shot, Mel Gibson upscuttled the semi-trailer on the nearby Mundi Mundi Plains. In South Australia, the pockmarked scenery of Coober Pedy has found favour with many film-makers, including Wim Wenders, who made his epic Until the End of the World here, while the lunar-like landscape was also an invaluable element in creating the atmosphere of Mad Max III. And that Outback pub in Crocodile Dundee was none other than the Walkabout Hotel, at McKinlay in Queensland.

More lush surroundings have also caught the imagination: in Victoria the eponymous Hanging Rock, which featured in Picnic at Hanging Rock, is within striking distance of Woodend, but is disappointingly lacking in eeriness.

Inevitably, the Sydney area has its fair share of hallowed ground for TV addicts. Skippy, the Bush Kangaroo, or at least the son of Skippy, is the star of Waratah Park. The soapy teenage angst and surfie bonhomie of Home and Away revolves around Palm Beach in Sydney’s northern beaches, with the Barrenjoey Lighthouse and headland regularly in shot.

New Wave

The birth of the New Wave was a response to the burgeoning counterculture of the late 1960s. Among the many notable reforms of Gough Whitlam’s Labor government was support for the long-neglected arts. Film-makers in particular were given a shot in the arm with the introduction of extremely generous grants to more than cover the cost of production. While in its early years this financial support helped produce some of the crassest male-fantasy “sex romps” ever seen (Tim Burstall’s 1973 Alvin Purple and Terry Bourke’s Plugg are matchlessly dire), the opening of the Australian Film School in 1973 allowed genuine talents such as Gillian Armstrong, Bruce Beresford and Paul Cox to flourish.

Two years later, the Australian Film Commission evolved from previous similar organizations to help produce and market Australian films, and although the grants have been regularly reduced ever since, their introduction kick-started the moribund industry so that there presently exists a diverse pool of directors and technicians to keep things going.

Peter Weir’s unsettlingly eerie Picnic at Hanging Rock (1975) remains an early jewel, and the decade ended with further acclaim for his Gallipoli, Phillip Noyce’s extraordinary Newsfront and Gillian Armstrong’s first feature, My Brilliant Career. Auspicious futures were launched for Armstrong, and actors Sam Neill, Judy Davis and Mel Gibson, whose post-apocalyptic Mad Max trilogy saw a gradual stylistic evolution to suit the huge American market.

With the international box office success of Crocodile Dundee in 1985, Australia briefly became a fashionable destination. Indeed, Kakadu National Park owes as much to Peter Faiman’s fish-out-of-water fairy tale for its present popularity as does Uluru (Ayers Rock) to the famous Dingo Baby case; Evil Angels (released in the UK under the title A Cry in the Dark) saw Meryl Streep miscast as Lindy Chamberlain in Fred Schepisi’s 1987 version of those events.

Contemporary Australian cinema is perhaps most exceptional for establishing a number of women directors and producers and providing a handful of strong women’s roles. Inevitably, only the mainstream hits, such as the uplifting Strictly Ballroom and Death in Brunswick, have achieved wide overseas release, while many equally fine “small” films remain largely unseen. It is these quirky, uniquely Australian films of which the rejuvenated industry can be most proud. The prestige of numerous and consistent awards at the Cannes Film Festival and others proves that Australia’s long-established cinematographic heritage has, more than any other art form, helped rid the country of its former philistine reputation. Confident and uncompromising films such as Malcolm, Celia, Sweetie and The Year My Voice Broke are just a few that complement their better-known siblings, with 1994 seeing a media-led “renaissance” in Australian film. Stephan Elliot’s sartorially outrageous Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert was the country’s biggest box-office success up to that time and won international acclaim, while P.J. Hogan’s wonderful Muriel’s Wedding perfectly encapsulated the indigenous film-making idiom and proved that Australia still could make financially viable and idiosyncratic films.

Recent Developments

Recently, Australian film critics have grown weary of the trend in making “quirky, offbeat romances”, such as Shirley Barratt’s Love Serenade and Emma Crogan’s 1996 Cannes hit Love and Other Catastrophes, although few would have much to complain about with Scott Hicks’ globally acclaimed Shine. Another worthy and uniquely Australian film released in 1996 was Nick Parsons’ extraordinary Dead Heart. Describing the decomposing relationships, as well as the clash of white and tribal law, on an outstation near Alice Springs, the film sensitively and honestly portrays many aspects of contemporary Aboriginal life (deaths in custody, illicit grog runs, “payback”, drunkenness and even sorcery).

While the Liberal government has slashed film funding to the Australian Film Commission and Film Finance Corporation, major actors such as Russel Crowe (Romper Stomper), Nicole Kidman (Batman Forever), Rachel Griffiths (Divorcing Jack), Cate Blanchett (Elizabeth) and Geoffrey Rush (Shine) now work mostly overseas where the pay, recognition and opportunities are much greater. In 1998 box office receipts hit a record A$629.2 million yet Australian films made up only two percent of that and almost all lost money.

However, a low Australian dollar, skilled crews and Sydney’s new world-class Fox Studios have attracted major productions such as Dark City,Babe: Pig In The City,The Matrix,Mission Impossible II and Star Wars Episode II to Australia. Melbourne’s developing docklands project includes a Paramount-backed studio that will be ready by 2001 and will also boost the Australian film industry’s facilities, skillbase and reputation.

Films to watch out for

  • About Aborigines
    • The Chant of Jimmie Blacksmith (Fred Schepisi, 1977). Set in the 1800s, when a half-caste boy is forced onto the wrong side of the law. Based on the book by Thomas Keneally.
    • Dead Heart (Brian Brown, 1996). A long-overdue and regrettably overlooked thriller, set on an Aboriginal community near Alice Springs. Bravely gets its teeth into some juicy political and social issues.
    • The Fringe Dwellers (Bruce Beresford, 1985). An aspiring daughter persuades her family to move from the bush into a suburban white neighbourhood, with expected results.
    • Jedda, the Uncivilized (Charles Chauvel, 1955). An orphaned Aboriginal girl brought up by a “civilized” white family cannot resist her “tribal” urges when she is semivoluntarily abducted by a black outlaw.
    • Manganinnie (John Honey, 1980). Set during the time of the “black drives” of 1830s Tasmania, a young Aboriginal girl gets separated from her family and meets a white girl in similar straits.
  • Adolescent and misfit romance
    • Flirting (John Duigan, 1989). This sequel to The Year My Voice Broke follows a young boy’s adventures in boarding school. Superior coming-of-age film.
    • Lonely Hearts (Paul Cox, 1981). Following the death of his mother, 50-year-old Peter buys a new toupee and joins a dating agency. A sensitive portrayal of the ensuing, at times awkward, relationship. Other Paul Cox features worth looking out for include Man of Flowers, My First Wife and Cactus.
    • Strictly Ballroom (Baz Luhrmann, 1991). Mismatched dancers who, together, dare to defy the prescribed routines. A feel-good hit at Cannes and the box office.
  • Gritty and defiant women
    • Celia (Ann Turner, 1988). A wonderful allegory that mixes a 1950s rabbit-eradication programme with a communist witch-hunt. Stubborn Celia is determined to keep her bunny.
    • Dance Me To My Song (Rolf De Heer, 1998). A unique and moving film written by and starring cerebral palsy sufferer, Heather Rose as she is abused by her carer and falls in love.
    • The Getting of Wisdom (Bruce Beresford, 1977). Spirited Laura rejects the polite sensibilities and snobbery of an Edwardian boarding school.
    • Heatwave (Phillip Noyce, 1981). Sweltering urban machinations, as Judy Davis uncovers dirty dealings surrounding a proposed development in heatstruck Sydney.
    • My Brilliant Career (Gillian Armstrong, 1978). An early feminist questions and defies the expectations of 1890s Victoria.
    • Puberty Blues (Bruce Beresford, 1981). Two teenage beach girls refuse to accept their pushchair-and-shopping-trolley destiny.
    • Shame (Steve Jordell, 1986). A lone woman lawyer on a motorbike gets stuck in an Outback town full of creeps and delves into its dirty secret.
    • We of the Never Never (Igor Auzins, 1981). A good-looking version of Jeannie Gunn’s autobiographical classic of turn-of-the-century station life in the Top End.
  • Humour, black comedy and satire
    • The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert (Stephan Elliot, 1994). A queer romp across the Outback, prying into some musty corners of Australian social life along the way.
    • Babakiueria (Julian Pringler, 1988). A culture-reversing spoof beginning with Aborigines invading Australia during a roadside barbie and continuing with an anthropological-style study of white Australia. Rare, but well worth the search.
    • Death in Brunswick (John Ruane, 1990). A black comedy about the misfortunes of a hapless dishwasher who becomes embroiled in a gangland killing.
    • Les Paterson Saves the World (George Miller, 1986). Barry Humphries plays the repugnant cultural attaché in a lame spoof of monumental bad taste.
    • Malcolm (Nadia Tass, 1985). A charming, offbeat comedy about a slow-witted tram driver in Melbourne.
    • Muriel’s Wedding (P.J. Hogan, 1994). Kleptomanic frump Muriel wastes away in an Abba-and-confetti dreamworld until ex-schoolchum Rhonda masterminds Muriel’s escape from her awful family. Great performances.
  • Men in rugged circumstances
    • Gallipoli (Peter Weir, 1980). A deservedly classic buddy movie in which a young Mel Gibson strikingly evokes the Anzacs’ cheery idealism and the tragedy of their slaughter.
    • The Last of the Knucklemen (Tim Burstall, 1978). Tensions build up in a remote Outback mine and explode in bare-fisted punch-ups.
    • The Man from Snowy River (George Miller, 1981). Men, horses and the land from A.B. (“Banjo”) Paterson’s seminal and dearly loved poem caught the overseas’ imagination. A modern kangaroo western.
    • Plains of Heaven (Ian Pringle, 1982). A spookily atmospheric story of two weathermen in a remote meteorological station slowly losing their minds.
    • Sunday Too Far Away (Ken Hannam, 1973). A simple tale of macho shearers’ rivalries in Outback South Australia.
  • Ockerdom and hoonery
    • The Adventures of Barry McKenzie (Bruce Beresford, 1972). Ultra-ocker comes to England to teach the “pommie sheilas about real men”. Ironically, Humphries’ satire got beer-spurting ovations from the very people he despised and also set Beresford back a couple of years.
    • Crocodile Dundee (Peter Faiman, 1985). The acceptable side of genial, dinky-di ockerdom saw Paul Hogan sell Australian bush mystique to the mainstream.
    • The FJ Holden (Michael Thornhill, 1977). A portrayal of west Sydney hoons’ joyless hedonism, as they ricochet between police, bars and girls.
    • Wake in Fright aka Outback (Ted Kotcheff, 1970). A horrifying gem in its uncut, 114min version; Deliverance or Straw Dogs Down Under. A coast-bound teacher blows his fare in Outback Hicksville and slowly degenerates into a brutal, beer-sodden nightmare.
  • Outback nightmares and weirdness
    • Evil Angels (A Cry in the Dark) (Fred Schepisi, 1987). A dramatic retelling of the Azaria Chamberlain story; dingoes will never seem quite the same again.
    • The Lost Weekend (Colin Eggleston, 1977). The beautiful bush closes in menacingly on an ecologically unsound couple camping on a remote beach.
    • Picnic at Hanging Rock (Peter Weir, 1975). A richly layered tale about the disappearance of a party of schoolgirls and its traumatic aftermath.
    • Razorback (Russell Mulcahy, 1984). The darkest of comedies, exploiting urban paranoia of the Outback and featuring a remote township, a gigantic, psychotic wild pig, and some bloodthirsty nutters who run the local abattoir.
    • Walkabout (Nicolas Roeg, 1971). Following their deranged father’s suicide during a bush picnic, two children wander through the wilderness until an Aboriginal boy guides them back to civilization.
  • Portents of doom
    • Cane Toads: an Unnatural History (Mark Lewis, 1988). A bizarre and amusing documentary about the mixed feelings Queensland’s poisonous amphibians arouse and the real threat they may pose to Australia’s ecology.
    • The Last Wave (Peter Weir, 1977). A spooky chiller about a lawyer defending an Aborigine accused of murder – and the powerful, elemental forces his people control.
    • Mad Max II (George Miller, 1981). The best of the trilogy, set in a near future where loner Max protects an oil-producing community from fuel-starved crazies. Great machinery and stunts.
    • Newsfront (Phillip Noyce, 1978). Nothing portentous whatsoever, but an excellent movie set among mid-1950s Melbourne’s newsreel crews, concerning the disparate political and professional aspirations of two brothers.
  • Urban dysfunctionals
    • The Boys (Rowan Woods, 1998). This tense drama follows Brett, played by rising star, David Wenham (Sea Change) as an ex-prisoner who terrorizes his dysfunctional family and coerces his unemployed brothers into a violent crime.
    • Careful, He Might Hear You (Carl Shultz, 1982). An absorbing tug-of-love drama set in 1930s Sydney.
    • The Devil’s Playground (Fred Schepisi, 1975). Burgeoning sexuality oozes between pupils and their tutors in a Catholic seminary.
    • Head On (Ana Kokkinos, 1998). Unemployed Ari (Alex Dimitriades) escapes living with his strict Greek parents by spending a hectic 24-hours nightclubbing, drug taking and graphically exploring his homosexuality.
    • The Interview (Craig Monahan, 1998). Truth and justice are explored as Hugo Waving (Priscilla) is interrogated by a corrupt policeman, with dubious methods, who suspects him of murder.
    • The Last Days of Chez Nous (Gillian Armstrong, 1991). A middle-aged woman slowly loses her grip on her marriage and family.
    • Monkey Grip (Ken Cameron, 1981). A bleak but candid portrayal of rootless lives and love in mid-1970s Melbourne.
    • Proof (Jocelyn Moorehouse, 1990). An uncomfortably cold film about a blind cynic rejecting his equally maladjusted housekeeper’s advances.
    • Romper Stomper (Geoffrey Wright, 1991). A violent account of the racial hatred and gradual disintegration of a gang of Melbourne skinheads.
    • Sweetie (Jane Campion, 1988). Part black comedy, part bleakly disturbing portrait of a bizarre suburban family.