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The Australian Film Renaissance, 1970-86: An ideological, economic and political analysis

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The Australian Film Renaissance, 1970-86: An ideological, economic and political analysis

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Content THE AUSTRALIAN FIIM RENAISSANCE, 1970-86
AN IDEOLOGICAL, ECONOMIC AND POLITICAL ANALYSIS
by
Susan Torrey Barber
A Dissertation Presented to the
FACULTY OF THE GRADUATE SCHOOL
UNIVERSITY OF SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA
In Partial Fulfillment of the
Requirements for the Degree
DOCTOR OF PHILOSOPHY
(Cinema — Critical Studies)
May 1988
UMI Number: DP22267
All rights reserved
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a note will indicate the deletion.
Dissertation Publishing
UMI DP22267
Published by ProQuest LLC (2014). Copyright in the Dissertation held by the Author.
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THE GRADUATE SCHOOL
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Cin
%
This dissertation, written by
Susani i Torreyt 4 1 Barber............
under the direction of h..er Dissertation
Committee, and approved by all its members,
has been presented to and accepted by The
Graduate School, in partial fulfillm ent of re
quirements fo r the degree of
D O C T O R O F P H ILO S O P H Y
Dean of Graduate Studies
Date March 14, < > 1988
DISSERTATION COMMITTEE
^
ii
To Joe for his love and support
and
Marsha for her guidance and vision
Ill
Table of Contents
Chapter Page
1 Presentation of Study and Methodology.......... 1
Notes....................................... 23
2 The Australian Film Renaissance in Historical/
Historical/Political/Cultural Perspective:
the Local Industry from 1900-70............... 24
Notes....................................... 115
3 Phase I, the Australian Film Development Corp
oration, 1971-75: Breaking away from Britain.
Prelude to the Australian Film Commission, the
Industry's new International Role............. 122
Notes....................................... 242
4 Phase II, Six Commission Films — Imperial-
Colonial dynamics abroad and at home — Caddie.
My Brilliant Career. Chant of Jimmie Blacksmith.
The Last Wave. Breaker Morant. and Newsfront.... 252
Notes....................................... 351
5 The Works of George Miller and Peter Weir:
Playing out American/Hollywood Superiority 360
Notes..................... 415
6 Phase III, the Tax Legislation Period — the
Australian Film Industry as an Off-Shore
Hollywood Colony............................ 419
Notes....................................... 462
7 Conclusions and Implications.................. 463
Bibliography......... 467
Chapter One
Presentation of Study and Methodology
In March, 1970, after an absence of thirty years, the
Australian film industry was resurrected by an initial grant of
one million dollars from the Australian government through the
establishment of the Australian Film Development Corporation,
thus initiating the first of three phases of the Australian
Film Renaissance.
Since that time, the Australian film industry has produced
approximately 300 features, focusing on Australia's culture,
history and society. The "Australian New Wave" has become a
major national film movement in the 70's and 80's achieving
international acclaim abroad as well as avid audience
acceptance at home.
These fifteen years are the primary focus of this study,
which is an economic, political and ideological analysis of the
film industry, drawing on the models of Marxist theorist Louis
Althusser from "Ideology and Ideological State Apparatuses" and
critic Thomas Elsaesser, who has applied the Althusserian model
to the New German Cinema, especially in "Primary Identification
and the Historical Subject: Fassbinder and Germany."
The Australian film industry was initiated in order to
develop a particular aspect of cultural production. The
Federal Government proposed to fund films about issues inherent
in Australian history and society. This newly resurrected
national cinema would aid in the remolding of a national
identity, which was seen as repressed by dominant Imperial
British and American influences. This was a rare move by a
capitalistic government that had practiced a policy of laissez-
faire for 70 years, one reluctant to subsidize films or protect
the industry in the 1920's and 1930's from overseas controlled
distribution/exhibition chains (primarily American), or even
from a local monopoly that held a vertical hold over
production, distribution and exhibition. By the early 1940's
only a handful of features was being produced; most production
was diverted to documentary and propaganda films for the war
effort. After World War II, feature filmmaking virtually cam
to a halt; three locally run companies made several films in
the fifties, but all shut down operations after a few years,
mainly due to lack of public interest, which had shifted to the
American product dominating Australian screens. By the late
50's, there was virtually no film industry in Australia, and
the country had been relegated to a backdrop for British and
American-based productions.
3
However in the 60*3, social changes were sweeping across
Australia that would dramatically change the nature and
structure of the Australian film industry. A large segment of
the population (roughly one-seventh, composed of young adults
between the ages of 15 and 29), was questioning Australia's
colonial status and years of subservience to British and
American policies in defense, politics and culture. The most
critical representation of this was (they argued) the
government embarking of Australian troops to Vietnam to support
an American Imperial war, which fulfilled Australia's 1956
Anzac defense agreement with the United States (and New
Zealand).
Anti-war activists were joined by film activists who
challenged American cultural imperialism, namely the dominance
of American programs on Australian television which was
worrying many Australian parents, who felt their children would
be negatively influenced by "unsavory" life styles, attitudes
and language from American culture. After a series of articles
in several newspapers in Sydney and Melbourne addressed this
issue, and film activists lobbied Parliament, several inquiries
were held by the government from 1960-62. Television union
representatives, in addition to documentary and experimental
filmmakers, used these forums to protest not only the lack of
Australian programs on television, but also the absence of
Australian films in Australian theatres, and their disappoint
ment that there was no film industry to supply the product to
4
television or exhibition houses. The most significant report
that came from the hearings was the Vincent Report (1963) which
outlined provisions not only for an Australian television
quota, but also for a local film industry subsidized by the
government. Further, this report also acknowledged and
reaffirmed the existence of a broad pool of talent in
Australia, capable of providing a creative and technical base
for a television and film industry. Between 1963 and 1969,
filmmakers and activists, spurred by this initial government
response, besieged the government for television and film
industry protection and assistance.
When John Gorton was elected Prime Minister in 1968, he
proved to be an avid supporter of the concept of a government-
supported film industry, and soon appointed a government
sponsored committee, the Film and Television Board (composed of
film activists and representatives from Parliament) to examine
state film industries in other countries, primarily Canada and
Europe.
The Board's report, submitted late in the year, was
endorsed by Gorton who argued that a local film industry was a
necessary component of cultural development. Within a year, he
had designed the Australian Film Development Corporation Bill,
and convinced both houses of Parliament to pass the unprece
dented legislation, which included an endowment for the
establishment of a national film school, an experimental film
and television fund, and a film bank (the Australian Film
5
Development Corporation) - the latter supervised by a six
member board with a budget of one million for its first year of
existence. The first phase of the Australian film revival had
begun.
Hie policy of the AFDC was to establish a commercially
viable local film industry. Chair John Darling stated in 1970,
"The Corporation will be commercially oriented— We have to
create conditions for the industry to grow...
The Commissioners were very specific about "the
Australian-ness" of its films, ruling out immediately the
possibility of overseas investment and influence:
(All films).. .must be made wholly or substantially in
Australia, have significant Australian content [which
means] subject matter of film, place or places where it is
made, the places of residence of cast and crew (authors,
technicians, actors, composers). [Any] financing sources
are to be Australian, including ownership in shares of
stock and ownership of copyright.2
The majority of films from this period belonged to the
ocker genre, the term "ocker" referring to a loudmouth, crass
male who "knocks" institutions and traditions in order to
demonstrate his difference from the British. The ocker genre
reflected the board's policy of appealing to a broad audience,
familiar with the rowdy "larrikan" character. Many of these
films also capitalized on the new "R" certificate which allowed
filmmakers considerably more leeway in the presentation of
explicit sexual content and violent behavior.
The second phase of industry development (1975-81), the
Australian Film Commission period, represented a shift in
6
government policy from specifically commercial cinema to a
"quality" product. "Cultural, artistic and social relevance"
meant the production of well-crafted Australian themed films
which exuded technical and artistic excellence. The Commission
argued that the first few years would accordingly be develop
mental — "a period of bold and adventurous risk-taking—
encouraging new talents which private investment might be
reluctant to handle without the stake of the AFC."3 Further
more, the national film and television school (established
1973) would train the "new talents" who would later join the
film industry in creative and technical capacities. The
Commission intended AFC funded films primarily for local
audiences, but with its emphasis on "high international
standard" the films ultimately were aimed for overseas
audiences as well, primarily English speaking (United States,
Canada and Britain). The Commission also had its eye on "world
recognition" at a prestigious international film festival,
namely Cannes.
Conforming to specifications for Australian content as
spelled out in Phase I, the films from this period examined
diverse issues from Australian history and society, many taking
place in approximately 1900, the year Australia gained Feder
ation status and a greater measure of political independence
from Britain (they could now elect their own government). 1900,
then, represented a rich period for exploring the shaping and
forging of Australia. Many of the New Wave's most popular and
successful directors began making feature films during this '
phase — Bruce Beresford, Gillian Armstrong, Phillip Noyce,
Fred Sdtiepisi, Peter Weir, and George Miller.
The third phase of the industry (1981-present) the tax-
initiative period, representated a reduction of government
support to "creative development" or the provision of seed
monies for script development only, which reflected a general
reduction of government investment to about 20 percent of the
budget. The majority of funding shifted to the private sector
as a result of generous government provisions for substantial
tax-breaks. Although this phase was anticipated by the govem-
{ ment back in 1975, no one could have foreseen the enormous
! losses on 70 percent of government investments, which was
i
! partly attributed to inflation, which had increased budgets
| from $300,000 to $800,000 per film by 1979. Further, it became
[ evident that the Australian population was too small to show
significant returns on a significant number of locally produced :
films. I
i
| Subsequent private investors, unlike the government !
I
commission did not develop clearly articulated cultural policy ]
regarding Australian content, but focused on commercial 1
!
elements, funding films that would guarantee returns on their '
|
investments and sell in overseas markets. ALusftalian investors j
in this period logically chose classic and contemporary
Hollywood models and popular generic conventions. Hence, an j
industry that had been founded on the premise of cultural
8
specificity was in the process of being compromised into the
image of Hollywood cinema. A project would be evaluated
according to its selling potential, profit margin and the
demands of international box-office.
In order to understand more clearly how government policy
in delegating cultural and commercial goals was related to the
role of financing institutions in carrying out these objectives
and to the themes inherent in the films produced within each
industry period, it is necessary to turn to a different level
of analysis, utilizing Althusser's theory of ideology and the
construction of the subject.
According to Althusser, cinema is one of many
"apparatuses" or components of an ideological system, through
which the ideologies or belief systems of a society or culture
are conveyed to its members. Althusser defines ideology, as
the themes, representatives, images and ideas, through which
men and women live in an imaginary relationship to their real
conditions of existence. Ideology shapes the consciousness of
an individual, by "interpellating" or hailing him/or her,
transforming him/her into a subject, mediating that subject's
perception of his/her role in society. There is no reality
• except through idealogy.
Every society is ruled by a governing structure, or State
Apparatus, which not only rules according to a particular
system (Fascist, Capitalist, Communist) but also according to a
dominant ideology that is conveyed and reinforced through its
9
Ideological State Apparatuses, or ISA's. These include
religious, educational, family, legal political, trade-union,
communication (press, radio, television), and cultural (the
arts, literature, sports).4 All ISA's contribute to the
shaping of the subject's consciousness in a particular society.
The cinematic apparatus (belonging to the cultural ISA),
determines the consciousness of the viewing subject or
spectator in particular ways that have been theorized by
Christian Metz, who has applied the models of psychoanalyst
Jacques Lacan to the cinematic apparatus. It is necessary to
examine first of all the Lacan/Metz model in order to
understand the relationship between screen and spectator, and
secondly, Elsaesser's application of this model in order to
determine the nature of ideology inscribed within a national
cinema.
Metz has argued that the cinema screen functions as a
second mirror for the spectator — by a play of self images it
creates a bond between spectator and film subject encouraging
identification. Metz's theory is based on Lacan's essay "The
Mirror Phase as Formative in the Function of the I." Lacan'
argues that the psyche of a child (6-18 months) is constituted
during this phase: the image that the child receives of itself
from the mirror offers hiryher a sense of a unified self. The
child's identity hinges upon this "Other" or ego-ideal, "an
imaginary center to position (him/her) dead center on the
consciousness of self as subject."5 For the film spectator,
10
Metz argues, the cinema screen functions in a similar capacity;
through (mis) cognition, the "inner unperceived and unrecog
nized mirroring effect," the Other on the screen offers the
spectator a similar sense of wholeness and unity with his/her
ego ideal. This imaginary relationship or secondary identi
fication is built on the repression of a third presence, the
camera: this absence, and deferment of the act of perception
turns the relationship into an illusory or imaginary one.6
Elsaesser has argued that this bonding structure can also
function within the narrative of the film itself through a
doppelganger or doubling "arrangement." He elaborates,
A character seeks out or encounters an Other only to put
himself in their (sic) place, and from that place, turn
them into idealized, loved and/or hated self-image.. .that
is, of course, the constellation of the double...7
Elsaesser further argues that this Other is linked to the
broader context of historical and social determinants.
Analogous to and functioning in a similar shaping capacity as
the Lacan/Metz ego ideal, the social imaginary — a social
ideal or vision of social identity — is produced through that
society's institutions, which reinforce the dominant ideology,
and which are founded in its language, the basis of symbolic/
social structures and subjectivity. The nature of the
relationship between the social imaginary (imaginaries) and
character(s) in a film and the positioning of the spectator is
situated by the screen apparatus, his/her consciousness duly
shaped by the ideology inscribed in the film, (the ideology)
11
reinforced by the dynamics of the relationship between the
social imaginary (imaginaries) and characters or film
subject(s).
For each industry phase then, the dominant ideology is a
function of many determinants: the political orientation and
practices of the Australian State Apparatus; the nature of the
Australian State's political and cultural relationship with the
British and American SA's; the cultural and/or commercial goals
of each Prime Minister and the resulting shape of the ISA's
including the Film Corporation or Commission. The dominant
ideology is also shaped by the social and historical deter
minants within and outside of Australia, which contribute to
the country's changing sense of "self," which fluctuates
between colony and nation. For Phases I and II, the dominant
ideology is conveyed by a struggle or conflict between a
British or American Imperial Other and a colonial Australian
subject. As the Australian subject moves away from his/her
colonial positioning, declaring a new native spirit, the
Australian spectator's sense of national identity is clarified
and reinforced through identification with the subject who
aspires to a new native ideal.
In Phase I, with the Corporation's emphasis on the
establishment of a solid, commercially viable film industry
(with Gorton's blessing), with 100 percent Australian content,
the commissioners choose a traditionally popular and readily
recognizable "Ocker" ideal (from television and literature).
12
The film subject rejects the British Other by outsmarting or
humiliating his stuffy, haughty, obtuse "superior," managing
this is a feisty, vulgar manner, true to ocker form, as in
Stork, the Barry McKenzie films and Petersen. Or in a
historical setting, the film subject breaks away from or
resists the domineering British Other, as in Picnic at Hanging
Rock (1975) or Between Wars (1974). These later films serve as
a bridge to the product in the next phase, as the corporation
attempts to find a more "serious" product in light of the new
policy of Prime Minister Whitlam to present a respectable image
of Australia to the world.
Phase II portrays a broader and more diversified range of
subjects in conflict with Imperial Others in a variety of
social and historical contexts within and outside Australia
(and reflecting an increased economic base as the AFC is
delegated increasingly larger budgets). As directors present a
wide assortment of issues about native Australia during this
period, the opposed social imaginary is often Australian, who
incorporates many of the traits of the British Imperial power,
mirroring similar Imperial-colonial conflicts within Australia
itself. In Caddie (1975) and My Brilliant Career (1978),
females oppose Australian males within a patriarchal system,
analogous to Australia breaking away from British influence.
In Chant of Jimmie Blacksmith (1978) turn of the century
Aborigines resist white Australians, who in turn oppose their
British oppressors, conflicts updated and reinforced in The
13
Last Wave (1979), which takes place in the present. As Breaker
Morant (1980) demonstrates, the Australian colonial subject is
still at odds with the Imperial British Other, as Australian
soldiers function as scapegoats in another war on behalf of
Britain. Newsfront (1978) which plays out an Australian
filmmaker's resistence to an agent from Hollywood, is the first
film to directly address colonial Australia's relationship with
an Imperial American Other (alluded to in Breaker MorantV. as
the British Empire declines after World War II, a situation
which foreshadows the allure of the Hollywood models and the
threat of Imperial American dominance in Phase III.
During this period, Prime Minister John Fraser shifts the
industry base to private investors, a move consistent with his
Liberal (that is conservative) party platform, which
traditionally favored private enterprise. Profit oriented
investors choose reliable commercial Hollywood models for their
projects — Westerns, Mad Max I and II. Man from Snowy River.
Crocodile Dundee; Spielberg-Lucas action adventures such as Mad
Max III; political thrillers, for example, The Year of Living
Dangerously — producing film subjects Who look, act and sound
like classical/contemporary American heroes. The Australian
film subject comprises, even represses his newly achieved
Australian identity presented in Phase I and II, embodying the
American Other. Within this phase, the Australian spectators's
sense of native identity is displaced, his/her consciousness
re-shaped by formerly resisted Imperial ideals.
14
Goals of ray Study
I will demonstrate that the dominant ideology inscribed in
the government sanctioned films of the Australian Film Revival
operated in the larger context of colonial Australia’s
historical and cultural relationship with Imperial powers
Britain and the United States. Phases I and II reflect
Australia’s estrangement from Britain politically and
economically; thus the ideology plays out colonial Australia's
resistance to and struggles to break away from British
domination, conflicts which are reflected within Australia
itself, on the level of race and gender. Phase III reflects
Australia’s reinforcement of military and economic ties to the
United States; the ideology then reflects the colony's
political deference to America, as well as an embracing of
American culture through the embodiment of Hollywood models and
ideals. The Renaissance, then, dramatizes opposition to the
Imperial British Other, as well as alignment with and
acquiescence to the Imperial American Other. Australian
"nationalism" ultimately translates into political/cultural
cringe to super power United States, as Australia assumes its
position as colony in the image of America and Hollywood.
Review of the Literature
All studies of the Australian Film Renaissance have been
written by native Australians, and all are characterized by the
15
same omission — the exclusion of the greater political and
cultural context of Australia's two mentors, Great Britain and
the United States on the development of the country and the
local film industry.
Eric Reade, who wrote the first study on Australian silent
cinema, updates his chronology in his later work, History and
Heartburn, the Sacra of the Australian Film, to include the
period from 1930-1978. Using an historical approach, he traces
the development of the product, primarily by listing the films,
briefly describing the plot of each, including its commercial
reception. Reade avoids any in-depth analysis of the economic,
social and historical determinants within Australia that
influenced the development of the industry, a dimension which
Graham Shirley and Brian Adams have incorporated into their
study, The Australian Cinema; The First Eighty Years (1978), a
comprehensive documentation of the shape of the local feature
film industry from the turn of the century through the
Australian Film Development Corporation period. Their work is
based upon a myriad of first hand sources — oral history,
original government documents, periodicals — and they speak
first-hand about the majority films they discuss, instead of
relying upon reviews as Reade often does. A valuable companion
piece to these two historical studies is Andrew Pike's
"encyclopedia," Australian Film: 1906-77. a compendium of all
films made in Australia during this period. For each film
there is a synopsis, production information, including the
16
source and nature of financing and also biographies on major
producers, directors, actors or actresses.
Two auteur studies, David Stratton's The Last New Wave
(1980), and Sue Mathews' 35 Millimeter Dreams: Conversations
with Five Directors (1983), are discussions of filmmakers'
works based mainly upon interviews with major industry figures
who helped shape the Renaissance. Producers and directors
offer perspectives on their craft, provide anecdotes about
their films, and assessments of their contributions to the
industry development. Mathews has limited her study to
directors well known to Americans, such as Peter Weir, Fred
Schepisi, Gillian Armstrong. She also includes Dr. George
Miller (Stratton only gives him a paragraph) and dark horse,
John Duigan, novelist, screenplay writer-turned director who
has chosen to stay in Australia and direct modest projects
based upon social and political problems in contemporary urban
Australia. Stratton's book attempts to encompass all industry
figures prominent in the 1970's (he includes Bruce Beresford,
Tim Burstall, Donald Crombie), as well as a variety of
producers (many of them women). Neither author however,
analyzes the overall development of the industry as shaped by
the filmmakers they cover, and Stratton relies too heavily upon
trade reviews to determine the "worth" of a film. Both books,
i
however contain useful information, especially on the
director's careers before they worked in features. Mathews'
second book American Dreams: Australian Movies (1986), co
17
authored with American radio and television broadcaster Peter
Hamilton, is more focused thematically and deals with the
enormous influence of Hollywood on the Australian film
industry. The authors use the same interview format as in
Conversations. expanding their sources to include American film
critics and filmmakers (Pauline Kael and Robert Altman, for
example), American producers and distributors, as well as a
wider selection of Australian industry people, including boldly
nationalistic writers David Williamson and Bob Ellis, and film
activist (now AFC Chair) Phillip Adams. Mathews and Hamilton
fail, however, to make conclusions about the direction that the
industry was taking in the 1980's, based upon the implications
of the many sources they interviewed.
Diane Collins and Ina Bertrand's book, Government and Film
in Australia (1981) is the only work to focus solely on the
role of government (federal and state) on all aspects of the
Australian film industry from 1896 through the first two years
of the Australian Film Commission period. (They also include
documentaries and television.) Even though Bertrand's/Collins'
primary sources are a number of government documents, the book
reads more as a survey, than an in-depth analysis of the
government function in the local media industries, as if
intended for general readers, rather than film historians/
analysts. Their best chapter is an examination of film
activism during the 60's and 70's, and its effect of the
government which compliments the Adams and Shirley chapter on
18
these years. However, their emphasis on the larger political
framework often short changes the effect of the government on
the specific nature of the product. The lapse of four years
between the end of their study and the publication date,
reveals a need to update their analysis.
Scott Murray’s and Peter Beilby's genre study, The New
Australian Cinema (1981) tries to cover approximately 250 films
made during the first ten years of the Renaissance. (Each
chapter is written by a different contributor). The categories
examined by each chapter are too broad; titles, for example,
include "Suspense and Mystery," "Adventure," and "Historical,"
and many chapters cover the same films. Because each author is
"genre bound," he/she excludes the links between the film, its
economic base and government funding goals.
Two works have been published since the enactment of the
Tax Break Lav®. The first, Australian Film Readerf19851,
edited by Albert Moran and Tom O'Regan, is a series of formerly
published essays about the Australian film industry. Reader is
divided into four sections: the early years, before the
revival and through the 50 ’ s; the documentary, from the turn of
the century to 1985; Renaissance films, and alternative cinema
(1960's to the present). The Renaissance section contains an
interesting variety of hard-to-obtain articles, ranging from
reviews (three on Picnic at Hanging Rock), to analyses of
directors' works (for example, Briton Robin Wood on sexuality
in Bruce Beresford1 s films) to essays by industry analyst,
Sylvia Lawson, on the problems of a native Australian film
industry. The essays in each section are arranged
chronologically, according to the year in which they were
published, and provide an analysis of the development of a
particular aspect of the industry during that time; however,
the editors do not explain their overall concept, or justify
their choice of essays. Further, for a work published well
after the augumentation of the tax break laws, there is a
surprising lack of discussion on the implications of the new
tax base on the product. Susan Dermody's and Elizabeth Jacka's
The Screening of Australia (1985), an examination of the
revival from 1970-84, does cover the films produced during the
first four years of the tax break period, but their two volume
set divides the economic base and the larger political frame
work of the government managed industry (volume I) from the
discussions of the films themselves (volume II). Like the
Murray/Beilby book, their organization is generic, and
encompasses large categories; for example, they label one
group, the "AFC Genre." By examining the films as separate
entities, they miss out on the larger economic and political
implications/connections which would have made their
excellently researched and detailed analysis of the industry
far richer.
How ray Study will be Different
My study will examine the films of the Renaissance as
ideology, functions of the greater political/economic/
cultural determinants within Australia, as well as outside, for
I will also take into account the enormous historical influence
of Great Britain and the United States on the development of
the Australian State and the film industry. Through ideological
readings, I will demonstrate that one of the most lauded and
popular national film movements in the 1970's and 1980's
essentially played out Australia's colonial positioning to
former mentor Britain and current mentor United States.
Organization of the Rest of this Study
In chapter two, I will put the Renaissance in historical
perspective and examine the pre-1970 films in the greater
context of the cultural/political influence of Britain and the
United States, demonstrating that the early years of the silent
film industry were healthy and thriving until the influx of the
American and British product and the establishment of off-shore
Hollywood distribution branches, in the early 20's which
subsequently all but eclipsed the local product. This chapter
will also trace the prelude to the industry revival in the
60's, a complex network of social and political upheavals in
response to years of Imperial American domination, and the
commitment by a sympathetic government lobbied by film industry
21
activists to support and manage a local feature film industry.
Chapter Three will focus on the first industry period
(1970-75), the installation of the Australian Film Development
Corporation, which funded a deliberately commercial product,
intending to re-inaugurate the local film industry. This
period is composed of two phases, both of which focus on
Australia attempting to break away from British domination:
1) the low-brow ocker, and 2) serious films intended for world
markets. This chapter will also examine the events leading up
to the establishment of the new film commission, as well as the
changes in funding policy for Phase II.
Chapter Four will examine six films produced by the AFC
(1975-80), which most dramatically demonstrate the Australian -
British colonial-imperial dynamic, a relationship reflected
domestically with respect to race (Aborigine-white) and gender
(female-male). These films also foreground the goals of the
AFC: the production of artistically and technically superb
films which show a respectable image of Australia abroad for
overseas festivals and markets. At the end of this "British"
period, colony Australia exchanges one Imperial power for
another, alluding to the rising influence of the United States
on Australian foreign policy and culture after 1945.
Chapter Five will focus on the works of two major
Renaissance figures, George Miller and Peter Weir, filmmakers
who used Hollywood models as they pursued international fame
and recognition. Miller worked outside the government funded
22
system and chose not to work with Australian themes at all,
whereas Weir who helped bring the Renaissance to world renown
with Picnic at Hanging Rock, gradually moved into a mainstream
product. Both "native sons" divested their films of Australian
themes, and Miller's and Weir's international success expedited
the transformation of the local industry into one modeled on
Hollywood, the norm during the tax-break period, and the
subject of Chapter Six, which examines in detail the tax
legislation, and the ways the new laws and commercial pressures
fostered the incorporation of popular Hollywood genres into the
local product in order to exude international appeal, even
tually turning the local industry into an off-shore Hollywood
colony, a positioning compatible with Australia's political
deference to super-power the United States. Chapter Seven will
present a summary of and conclusions to this study.
23
Notes
^Brian Adams and Graham Shirley, Australian Cinema: The
First Eighty Years (Sydney, Angus and Robertson, 1980), 242.
2Australian Film Development Corporation Annual Report.
(Canberra, Australian Government Publishing Service, 1971), 2.
3Tom O1 Reagan, "Australian Filmmaking: Its Public
Circulation" Framework 22/23, 36.
4Louis Althusser, Lenin and Philosophy and other Essays,
translated by Ben Brewster (New York, Monthly Review Press,
1971), 143.
5Bill Nichols, Ideology and Image (Bloomington, Indiana
University Press, 1981), 31.
^Thomas Elsaesser, "Primary Identification and the
Historical Subject: Fassbinder and Germany" Cinetracts. Fall,
1980, 42.
7Elsaesser, 44.
24
Chapter Two
Hie history of the Australian film industry before 1970
must be examined in the context of the vast influence by the
British and American governments and film industries. Even
though the country had been an independent nation since 1901
Federation, Australia still perceived itself as a colony,
deferring to the two imperial powers. As Australia's mentors,
Britain and America exerted significant control over the
political, economic and cultural development of Australia.
This chapter will explore not only the nature of the British
and American influence over the development of the Australian
government and film industry, but also the relationship that
evolved between the industry and the Australian governments
(federal and state).
The Early Years— Nationalism and
Monopoly Capitalism
Australia's government was logically modeled on the
British democratic two-party system, as England had ruled
25
Australia for over a hundred years before granting it autonomy.
As in England, the elected head of the government was the Prime
Minister, who ruled over Parliament, composed of two houses,
the House of Representatives (legislators determined by
population), and the Senate (members limited to six from each
state).1 Under the laws of the Australian constitution, the
Australian Prime Minister, like his counterpart in England, was
given considerable power in running the government, and in
shaping national and foreign policy.
During the first two decades, probably the most national
istic period in Australian history until the early 1970's,
Australia was run by a series of labor governments (consis
tently voted in by powerful trade unions2), headed by Prime
Ministers passionately committed to building a nation that was
the "ideal democratic state of the common man"3 and one of the
most advanced welfare countries in the world at the time. By
1913, the government had legislated national insurance schemes
to cover sickness, accidents, unemployment, maternity and
widowhood. These social and economic advancements were
simultaneous with the formative years of the film industry.
Ironically, however, the socialist-oriented government did not
make provisions for filmmakers through subsidies or protective
legislation, but practiced a policy of laissez-faire, allowing
various entrepreneurs to organize and run production,
distribution and exhibition companies with no restraints on
their practices. The government did not interfere for two
26
reasons. First, film producers were not organized into
effective lobbies and unions (as were members of most
Australian industries) to express their needs or grievances.
Secondly, since the film industry was a new business in
Australia, (as well as in the rest of the world), there no
precedents or models in overseas government policy or
legislation (namely from the United States and Britain) to
manage or supervise the new entertainment industry.
By early 1911, six major independent production companies
had been formed, Australian Film Syndicate, Australian Life
Biograph Company, Australian Photo-Play Company, Crick and
Finlay, John Gavin Productions, and Lincoln-Cass Films, but
their access to theatres was severely diminished over the next
two years with a series of exhibition mergers, a move which
hindered their production output. In mid-1911, several
exhibition companies consolidated into three firms (West's,
Spencer's and Amalgamated), each then establishing adjunct
distribution branches. This "intermediate" step would assure a
steady supply of films for the exhibitors' outlets (as well as
publicity and print duplication). However, the mergers posed a
threat to local filmmakers whose choice of exhibition outlets
was narrowed to three. Later in the year, producers' access to
theatres became almost prohibitive when all three
distribution/exhibition companies expanded into production,
thus achieving vertical integration, or complete control over
all three phases of filmmaking. Within a few months, Crick and
27
Finlay, and John Gavin Productions folded, as did the
Australian Film Syndicate later in 1912. In 1913 Australia's
first monopoly in distribution and exhibition was formed, as
West's, Spencer's, Amalgamated (and a theatrical producer, J.D.
Williams) re-organized into the "Combine" — Australasian Films
(production and distribution), and Union Theatres (exhibition).
With a desire to eliminate other producers, the Combine bought
out Australian Photo-Play Company in 1913; soon it forced
Australian Life-Biograph Company and Lincoln-Cass Films out of
business by denying them distribution and theatres.
The new monopoly caused a dramatic drop in film production
because surviving production companies realized that the
Combine screened only its own productions. Only a few
exhibitors remained independent in major cities Sydney and
Melbourne, as the Combine soon brought out or contracted
"outside" theatres. A mere 17 films were released in 1913,
down from 52 in 1911. By 1914, 8 out of 10 exhibition houses
in the state of New South Wales (its major city Sydney,
containing a large percentage of the theatre-going public) were
under contract with the Combine for their product. The Combine
also practiced block booking, coercing its subscribing
exhibitors to take "packages" of films with no right of refusal
for individual films. If exhibitors did refuse, their whole
supply of films was withdrawn. The Combine was the dominant
force in distribution and exhibition for the next 15 years, its
practices unchallenged by the federal government.
28
However, the New South Wales state government intervened
in the film industry the same year the Combine was formed,
contributing further to the decline in production. The
government banned from exhibition one of the nation's most
popular genres, the bushranger film, acting under the
advisement of the local police, who claimed that the films were
making a mockery of the law by glorifying anarchy to audiences.
The government action was a shock to all producers, as the
bushranger films had been enormously successful since 1907,
when Australia's first bushranger film ( and its first
feature4) The Story of the Kelly Gang was released. Drawn from
the famous stage play ( and liberally taken from the real lives
of the gang), "the film openly presented the outlaw Kelly gang
as gallant heroes, with the police as enemy... .No attempt was
made to apologize for the cheerful celebration of outlawry."5
This formula set the standard for bushranging films made in
subsequent years, following the Kelly Gang's excellent
attendance records in Melbourne, where it played for five weeks
in several theatres, and later in Sydney, Adelaide, and
Brisbane. Essentially bushranger films were nostalgic glimpses
into Australia's frontier past when these fugitives from
justice, who were often escaped convicts, hid out in the bush -
- vast rural areas covered by dense forests, on the periphery
of civilization. Since Australia's initial settlement had been
as a penal colony for English (including British and Scottish)
convicts (many often wrongly accused and banished), the name
29
bushranger was applied to those inmates who by their own wits
and courage had escaped from prison into the bush to hide and
live. Captain's Midnight, Starlight and Moonlite (sic),
engaged in all sorts of illegal activities, (including bank
robbing and cattle rustling), their exploits and adventures a
grandiose mixture of fact and fiction. In essence, bushranging
films celebrated Australia's newly acquired Federation status,
the bushranger himself reflecting the nation’s expression of
feisty independence.
• However, the silencing of the bushranger genre had a
/ "powerful effect on popular culture....an entire folklore
v, relating to bushrangers was effectively removed from the most
popular form of cultural expression."6 With this act of
political censorship, a uniquely Australian subject was
suppressed.
However, Australasian Films presently filled this gap with
Hollywood Western heroes such as Tom Mix and William S. Hart,
who superceded Captains Midnight, Starlight and Thunderbolt,7
soon forgotten by Australian audiences. By 1915, Australasian
became the major importer of Hollywood films. Not only did the
company have five full-time agents to screen and select films
in New York (home of Hollywood corporate headquarters), but it
eagerly provided its theatres for the first wave of films from
newly established Hollywood distribution branches (all in major
Australian cities): Fox, First National and Paramount.
Australia was only one of many outlets for Hollywood films, for
30
with the outbreak of war in Europe in 1914, the American film
industry gained an easy advantage in all world markets,
situating it in a position of undisputed economic and artistic
leadership. Film historian David Cook explains how this
happened:
.. .the European industries were virtually shut down since
the same chemicals used in the production of celluloid
were need to manufacture gunpowder, but the American
cinema prospered throughout the war, unchallenged in
economic and political security... .While in 1914 the
United States produced just a little over one half of the
world’ s motion pictures, by 1918, it was making nearly all
of them For four years, America exercised complete
control over the inter-national market and set up a
formidable worldwide distribution system.. .The world at
large, including Asia and Africa (excepting the
belligerent Germany) saw nothing but American films... .In
1919, immediately following the Treaty of Versailles, 90
percent of all films screened in Europe (and soon in
Australia) were American.8
Besides developing its lucrative links with Hollywood,
Australasian embarked on a two-part production plan during the
war years (1914-1918): commercial films intended for overseas
audiences, and pro-war propaganda films for local viewers. For
its first international production, Shepherd of the Southern
Cross (1914), Australasian imported overseas talent, including
a leading film director from Britain, a screenplay writer and
experienced production supervisor, from both Hollywood. This
lavish "foreign" production was immediately viewed with
suspicion by local directors used to making films cheaper and
faster9 (Shepherd cost double the normal budget and took four
times the usual production period.) The film was actually a
safe variation of the popular bushranger theme, and
J
31
Australasian's attempt to capitalize on the genre. The
protagonist was a victim of an unscrupulous relative who
j discredited him and expedited his banishment to Australia. The
J awkward mixture of English and American sensibilities with
i
Australian material created an uneven film alien to Australian
audiences. The film was a complete failure commercially, and
subsequently, Australasian cancelled overseas distribution
plans and postponed further productions in this series until
the mid-20's.
Ironically, Shepherd had been eclipsed by a film more
appealing to audiences, the independently produced Silence of
Dean Maitland, premiering on Shepherd's opening day. The
subsequent action taken against the producers of Silence. Colin
and Archie Fraser, was an example of Australasian's ruthless
i
strategy to eliminate competition from other producers. Their
] practices in this particular case need to be examined in
!
j greater detail in order to understand their method of business
i
in the teens and later in the twenties.
Since 1912, Frasers had functioned as producers as well as
overseas distributors, maintaining links with Italian producer
Guiseppe Borsalino who helped finance many of their films; in
j return Frasers distributed Borsalino's films (as well as those
from several British producers). Since the Combine takeover in
1913, Frasers' outlets for their own productions had diminished
to two independent theatres in Sydney and Melbourne. The
Silence of Dean Maitland was Frasers' fourth production, a re
working of a popular local play. "A shrewd (and titillating,
but ultimately moral) mixture of religion and sex,"10 the
narrative focused on an English deacon, who allowed another man
to take the rap (20 years imprisonment) for his (Maitland's)
murder of another man (the father of the girl who seduced
Maitland). Maitland's shock of seeing this man twenty years
later in church prompts him to confess his guilt in front of
his congregation before he dies. The day Silence opened in
Sydney audiences flocked into theatres, anxious to view the
reprise of the famous play. However, in spite of the huge
initial popularity of Silence, its run was limited to a few
independent theatres. Shortly thereafter, Frasers were forced
to cancel their contract with Silence director, Raymond
Longford (who had signed a two year contract with them).
Frasers later admitted that the management of Australasian had
threatened them with a trade boycott (thereby arranging it so
no exhibitor would handle their films) if they continued to
produce "star" features directed by Longford. Clearly
management was jealous of Frasers’ success with Silence, (and
also humiliated by their film's disastrous opening). The
Frasers made three more films after Silence, but due to the
Combine's theatre monopoly, they were not able to make their
money back, nor provide distribution for their Italian and
British producers. The Frasers shut down production and
distribution in 1918, unable to run a losing operation.
33
Combine management realized that their business practices
might come under investigation by the federal government (after
all, a state government had already intervened in the
industry); therefore, in 1915, they shrewdly moved to
ingratiate themselves with the administration, by fulfilling a
government request for war propaganda films. Both their
productions glorified Australian military exploits, one in
Europe (The Hero of the Dardanelles), and the other in the
Pacific ( How We Beat the Emden). Each film accomplished
exactly what Australasia intended, not only broad public
approval and "vigorous applause" from the press, but (more
important) hearty endorsement from members of Federal
Parliament, particularly war hawk Prime Minister William
Hughes, who saw the films as a means to foster patriotic spirit
within the country and encourage volunteers to join the British
in the Allied offense. The success of these two films spawned
other films about Australia at war for the next two years,
particularly the Turkish campaign.11
However, by the end of 1917, audiences had demonstrated by
their dwindling attendance that they were growing weary of
Australian military exploits on screen. Beaumont Smith, a
former theatre publicist, recognized a potentially lucrative
genre, in the "Hayseeds" comedies, the light-hearted adventures
of a rural family, first performed on the stage and initially
adopted from stories and verse of local writers Henry Lawson,
Steele Rudd and Banjo Patterson, (who was author of Australian
national anthem, "Waltzing Matilda"). After the outstanding
success of his first film, Our Friends the Hayseeds. Smith used
his publicity skills to pre-sell the (as yet unmade) sequel,
The Hayseeds Come to Sydney. Union Theatres management eagerly
booked this film in many outlets, recognizing the profits to be
made from this and other Hayseeds films. Smith cleverly made a
different version of Our Friends the Hayseeds for each major
city, editing in recognizable landmarks for a particular city's
audiences, publicizing a "South Australian Production" in
Adelaide, or a "Victorian Production" in Melbourne. All of the
Hayseeds films (Smith made four) were nostalgic celebrations of
rural life, each film adorned with numerous episodes of
slapstick humor including wild chases and bar-room brawls,
which had been the mainstay of the stage productions.
However, in spite of his success with the series, Smith
declared a moratorium on production in 1918, until more
equitable distribution and exhibition terms being sought by
himself and other local producers had been secured. Speaking
on behalf of the majority of independent producers who had been
denied outlets for films since 1913, Smith argued that the
Combine had been the main deterrent to local productions for
several years, and that he could no longer tolerate their
profit gouging and prohibitive exhibition practices.
35
Post-war Australia: the Local Government Encourages
British Links and Accommodates Hollywood Infiltration
World War I took its toll on the Australian nation: its
losses — 60,000 men killed during the four years of fighting -
- dampened the once patriotic spirit at home and created
intense hostilities toward the Labor government which was
singled out and blamed for sending Australia's sons off to war.
Even the victory of Allied forces (of which Australia had been
a contingent) could not allay the resentment the public felt
towards the administration. Subsequently, the Labor party
experienced internal strife and split into two factions, the
Labor "radicals" preferred an isolationist, anti-Empire
position, their bullish nationalism philosophically behind
other nationalistic groups, including Russian Bolsheviks and
Irish Nationalists. The Conservative faction, a coalition of
the business wing of the Labor Party (the Nationalists), and
wealthy landowners and small farmers (the Country Party)
received the dramatic drift in public support from a Labor
platform to Conservative; this party would control the
government for the next seventeen years (1923-40).
The policy of the Conservative regime was three-fold. 1)
National survival depended on Imperial Unity and British
protection (suggesting that the staunch Australian nationalism
that had developed in the pre- war Labor years was bowing to
Empire ties and obligations). 2) British and American
capitalistic enterprise was welcome to operate in Australia.
36
Ties with British investors were encouraged through heavy
borrowing from British banks. Prime Minister Bruce (1923-29)
had a private interest in encouraging British links, as his
Australian based company Paterson, Laing and Bruce Company
Warehouses, was an essential distribution point between
factories of England and Australian stores. Further, no
restrictions were placed on American businesses, including the
three Hollywood-based distribution branches established in
Australia during or after the war — Metro, Columbia and
Universal. Australia proved to be a lucrative market for
Hollywood. By 1923, American studios were talcing out four
million dollars annually and by 1925, 674 of 721 films on
Australian screens, or roughly 90 percent, were American. For
the duration of the 20's Hollywood would supply between 82 and
98 percent of the films screened in Australia.12 3) The Bruce
government allowed the Combine to pursue its monopolistic
practices. The government's laissez-faire policy created a
comfortable operating atmosphere for Australasian Films/Union
Theatres to accommodate American distributors, and to expand
its holdings over the local exhibition. As early as 1919 the
Combine had control over 75 percent of Australian exhibition
houses, 90 percent of these first run.13
The Hollywood Product
With the great influx of American films after the war,
Australian audiences were viewing an increasingly sophisticated
37
Hollywood product. Many of the innovations that D.W. Griffith
had made in his longer narratives, including Birth of a Nation
and Intolerance, incorporated a new "grammar" of film, which
was absorbed into the Hollywood stylistic, transforming the
screen into a three dimensional array of techniques enhancing
the spectator's pleasure. They included not only a liberated
camera, through tracking or crane shots, but editing
constructs: intercut shots from close to long that either
could present close detail or expand the larger context of a
scene, or show simultaneous action by "cross cutting" from one
location to another. The result was a narrative-spectacle: "a
combination of sensational action and spectacular scenic
locations— (where) drama was carried by rapid movement of
bodies and scenes...the narrative developed by... effects
rather than by dialogue or complex characterization."14 Many
of these techniques were incorporated into a variety of popular
formulas, or genres, developed and produced by Hollywood
studios. These included Westerns, Swashbuckling Adventures
(especially with Douglas Fairbanks) Biblical Epics
(particularly under the direction of Cecil B. DeMille), and
Slapstick Comedies (featuring Charlie Chaplin and Buster
Keaton). The Hollywood product also had a base of assured and
continuous studio capital, and benefitted from "division of
labor, ensuring quality and high technical proficiency in each
facet of production."15 Each professional then, including for
examples, the director, screenplay writer, director of
38
photography and editor, collaborated on and contributed to the
shaping of the final film.
Australian films paled by comparison, lacking not only the
gloss, technical proficiency and variety of Hollywood films,
but also studio facilities and capital resources. Films were
made because a small group of passionately committed people
pooled their assets, each person often doing the jobs of
several. Furthermore, as far as exhibitors were concerned,
Australian films were not even worth handling. Film historian
John Tulloch comments, "Most (Australian) theatre owners...
wanted American films not simply because they were "best" but
because they were cheapest, and because their system of
distribution and block; booking ensured continuity of supply for
a year or two ahead."16 By preferring the Hollywood product,
exhibitors were actually severely limiting the number of
productions that could be made: "By buying into this system,
exhibitors were in effect helping to pre-fund the (American)
films while at the same time depriving Australian film
producers of finance both directly in terms of investment, and
indirectly by denying them screenings. Hence, the American way
came to be seen as the natural way.17
The Independents — Longford, Barrett, and Smith —
Problems with Exhibition
However, in spite of the local monopoly which accommodated
Hollywood films to the near exclusion of Australian ones, three
independent companies survived in the first half of the decade,
two of them run by directors who created daring alternatives to
the American genres. Franklyn Barrett and Raymond Longford
broke new ground in their portrayals of Australian society by
bringing a style of documentary realism to their films, thereby
resisting the Hollywood stylistic and generic formulas, a
choice which many critics argue pre-dated Italian Neo-realism
twenty years later.18 Longford and Barrett focused on themes
inherent in the social, economic, and political reality of
Australian culture (versus Hollywood fictions), shooting on
location (versus sets), and casting non-actors (versus trained
professionals) to portray characters in the context of an
oppressive environment through long takes (versus editing
constructs manipulating time and place). Basing their
narratives on familiar Australian themes from local literature
or drama, or their own screenplays, both filmmakers reached a
broad section of public who felt "at hame" and identified with
the film's characters. Barrett's and Longford's main problem
however, was finding exhibitors to screen their films in an era
of the Combine monopoly.
Raymond Longford's first film, Sentimental Bloke. (1919)
was based on a popular narrative verse by poet C.J. Dennis, and
focused on a gambler who reforms his lifestyle, marrying his
neighborhood sweetheart, leaving the urban environment to
manage orchards in the country. The film exuded humor, charm
and a great sense of humanity, traits which would characterize
40
Longford's subsequent works. Union Theatres refused to handle
Bloke, but it was picked up by an independent exhibitor E.J.
Carroll, who played it in Melbourne and Sydney to enthusiastic
audiences for months, later in Brisbane and Adelaide with a
solid following. Recognizing the commercial potential of
Longford after the success of Bloke. Union Theatres handled
Longford's next film On Our Selection. (1920). Selection (an
Australian term for a ranch or station) was based on writer
Steele Rudd's novel, and explored the efforts of a farmer and
his family (in the late 1800's) to "make a go of it" off the
land through the ravages of droughts and bushfires. Longford
dedicated Selection to the pioneers of Australia and intended
it to be "an affectionate and personal portrait of the daily
toil of a small selector, relying...on wits and physical
labor."19 As in Bloke. Longford used mainly non-professional
actors and actresses, encouraging them to improvise amidst the
stark bush environment, to make them as authentic as possible.
With E.J. Carroll again handling publicity and exhibition,
Selection opened in Brisbane and Sydney, quickly achieving
popularity among audiences.
Franklyn Barrett also focused on the pioneer theme,
although far more rigorously. His Breaking of the Drought
(1920), contained actual footage of an ongoing drought,
including miles of scorched earth and crows feeding on dead
carcasses. Barrett, a former live action photographer, did all
the cinematography for this film (and his others). He hoped
41
that his footage of the drought scenes would contrast with more
prosperous conditions, creating a "tribute to the indomitable
spirit of the Australian farmer."20 By the time the film
opened to full houses, the drought had actually broken, but
word of the bleak footage caused the Conservative New South
Wales government to intervene once again against filmmakers.
This time the government was heavily influenced by the Country
Party/ representing farmers and graziers, nervous that overseas
prices paid for their wheat and wool would drop should drought
footage be seen. Worried that the film would "tarnish"
Australia's reputation, the State government immediately
tightened its censorship laws to "prevent the export of this
film (or others) if the Minister for Customs deemed it to be
harmful to the Commonwealth.1,21 Clearly, this legislation was
as prohibitive as the ban on bushranger films several years
ago, and ultimately restricted the realistic style and scope of
subjects presented by longford and Barrett, forcing them to
work with "lighter" material. Ironically the government was
more concerned about the effects of "dangerous footage" on the
state's image abroad than the harmful effects of local
monopoly, and facilitated the compromising of indigenous
material into a more mainstream Hollywood influenced product
thereafter.
Subsequently, Barrett's next two films, Girl of the Bush
(1921) and A Rough Passage (1922), were "lightened up"
considerably. Girl covered roughly the same period as
42
Selection and focused on the life of a station owner, yet,
unlike Selection contained several comic sequences, including
the Chinese laundrymaid pursued relentlessly by the cook, and
non-controversial events, such as sheep shearing and horse-
breaking. A Rough Passage. Barrett's final film, was a race
track comedy, based on the popular Australian sport.
Although both films drew "big houses" in Sydney, Barrett
closed down productions shortly after Passage opened. All of
Barrett's films had been popular with the public, yet their
exhibition was limited to a few independent theatres outside
the Combine system, hence Barrett's returns were small and not
enough to continue production.
At approximately the same tine that Barrett shutdown,
Raymond Longford and his partner (actress) Lottie Lyell
established their own production company. But because they
wanted to secure liaisons with the Combine, they were not
always at liberty to choose and develop new material, in two
cases having to fall back on themes Longford had successfully
developed before. Their first production, Dirikum Bloke (1923),
was an attempt to capitalize on the enormous popularity of
Sentimental Bloke, using the same leads Arthur Tauchert and
Lyell. Like Sentimental Bloke, the protagonist lived and
worked in an urban environment (in this case as a dockworker),
devoting all his time and earnings to educate and support his
daughter so she could be accepted into middle class
surroundings, and eventually move away from the evils of the
43
city (just as the sentimental bloke and his wife had done).
Longford shot many of his scenes in Australasian studios (the
fees comprised half his budget) hoping that management would be
partial to the film. They were not, and refused to handle
Dirikum Bloke and also Longford's next film, Fisher's Murder
(1924), finding it "too gruesome." (The film was based on a
range murder, and covered the capture and trial of the guilty
man.) Clearly, Longford's documentary realism did not conform
to the Combine's entertainment criteria. He finally released
both films with Hoyt's, a smaller distribution/exhibition
chain. (Hoyt's had been in exhibition since 1907, and
established a distribution branch in 1922). Neither film was
handled under the best of circumstances: Bloke was delayed for
several months, and as for Fisher's Ghost. Longford was paid a
very small sum outright from Hoyt's.
Longford's exhibition problems seemed over when
Australasian brought his next film, The Bushwackers (1925) for
an amount equal to his production costs. Loosely based on
Alfred Lord Tennyson's Enoch Arden, the film focused on a man
presumed to be dead, who reappeared only to see his best friend
and wife happily together. In the eyes of Combine management,
The Bushwackers was closer to popular contemporary Hollywood
melodrama, 22 thus they were eager to handle it. Encouraged by
his new relationship with the Combine, Longford arranged to
make Peter Vernon's Silence (1926), essentially a reworking of
hit 1914 success, The Silence of Dean Maitland, reasoning that
44
the Combine would want to handle a possible his. Australasian,
busy with its own new production schedule, was not interested,
and Longford was only able to obtain a limited release in one
theatre in Tasmania. Longford was forced to close down
production in 1926. Like Barrett, he could not continue to
produce on small returns and limited markets.
The third major producer in the early 20's was Beaumont
Smith, who resumed production in 1923, using the vehicle of
slapstick comedy (that had worked so well in his Hayseed's
series) in a variety of familiar formulas successful with
Australian audiences before. Townies and Hayseeds (1923)
juxtaposed his rural characters to uptight city dwellers; The
Gentleman Bushranger (1921) was a "safe" revision of the
bushranger genre (as he was a victim of circumstances rather
than a rogue); Joe (1924) reworked the "struggling pioneer"
theme; Hello Marmaduke (1924) and Adventures of Alcry (1925)
examined the plights of the "silly ass" Englishman in
Australia, which was a popular genre from vaudeville.
After 1923, however, Smith started making conscious
efforts to boost the entertainment values of his films with
gratuitous action scenes, as if the standard formulas were not
enough, and ostensibly to complete with the technically
superior Hollywood product. For example, the climax of Hello
Marmaduke contained spectacular documentary footage of a
sinking Australian battleship.23 And in Joe, there were
several scenes of a raging bushfire all but burning a ranch
45
house down. At the extreme, Prehistoric Havseeds (1923) seemed
a remake of (American director) Buster Keaton's Three Ages
released in early 1923,24 a comedy about stone-age characters
thrown into a modem world. Smith's film bore many thematic
similarities to Keaton's and even the costumes were similar.
Smith's films had an easier time with exhibition — the Combine
recognized Smith's commercial potential and handled three of
his six films. Yet all of Smith's later attempts to mimic
Hollywood were an indication of a deeper problem in the
industry. Australian film historians Brian Adams and Graham
Shirley explain,
Commercialism aside, (Smith's) strategy was one more sign
that after the 1920-21 period of creative maturity
( Sentimental Bloke. On Our Selection. Breaking of the
Drought), Australian filmmakers were again deprived of
security and the freedom to explore new subjects.25
Like Barrett and Longford, Smith financed all his films,
using the profits from the last film to finance the next.
Although he broke even or showed a profit on them all, working
with the Combine-dominated system was too risky, and he quit
producing in 1925. Clearly the Combine contributed to the
demise of all three producers by favoring the Hollywood product
to local films, even though they had demonstrated that their
films could appeal to local audiences and became profitable
ventures.
I
J
The Combine Reaches for Overseas Markets
In 1925, Australasian Films made another bid for world
class productions with its Master Pictures series, importing
Hollywood talent and mimicking its stylistic. For its first
production, Painted Daughters. a back-stage story of two
generations of actresses/dancers, Australasian managing
director, Stuart Doyle, chose American J.F. Stuart-Whyte, who
had experience not only in choreographing comedies and mime on
stage, but also producing Douglas Fairbanks films. By choosing
one professional to make all creative decisions (versus three
on Australasian's debacle, Shepherd of the Southern Cross),
Doyle avoided the mistake that the former producers had made of
combining several diverse talents. To Doyle's delight, Stuart-
Whyte reflected the commercial philosophy of Australasia (and
also his lack of interest in anything local) when he announced
upon arrival in Australia:
I propose to construct bright snappy amusing productions,
such as find favor in all parts of the world, and prepare
them in an Australian setting. While I am not going to
eliminate Australian atmosphere from my pictures, it must
not obtrude.26
Painter Daughters was pure spectacle - jazz age sets, parades
of characters in luxurious costumes, and poolside gatherings of
bathing beauties.27 Saved by the week, episodic narrative,
Daughters was a great success in Sydney, as were Australasian's
next two pictures, Tall Timber (1925) and Hills of Hate (1926)
which only used the Australian bush as a backdrop for
47
narratives heavily dependent on action for their appeal.
Clearly, Hollywood skill and technique were paying off.
Australasian's choice for their next production, intended for
release in the United States as well as locally, was an escape-
from-prison story, For the Term of His Natural Life (1926)
(based on a popular Australian novel by the same name, filmed
twice before). Term was Doyle's attempt to capitalize on and
rework the popular bushranger genre, enhancing it with action
and state of the art Hollywood special effects. The narrative
focused on a young upper-class Englishman who accepts
responsibility for a murder he did not commit, and is banished
to an Australian convict settlement, living a grueling life
before he successfully escapes. Raymond Longford (who starred
in the second film version) was originally assigned to direct,
but he stepped down with the understanding that Australasian
would hire him for another production (they did not and allowed
his contract to expire).28 Instead, Australasian hired another
Hollywood talent, Norman Dawn (former cameraman and special
effects wizard), banking on the same success that Stuart-Whyte
had brought the company. Dawn cast four American actors and
actresses in major roles, and used many special effects that
had been developed in Hollywood, including multiple exposure
and painted glass shots. Australian film historians, Andrew
Pike and Ross Cooper comment, "The film.. .relied primarily on
spectacle as its main asset, [coming] to resemble the more
sterile extreme of Hollywood epic genre with cardboard
48
characters parading through picturesque scenery and expensive
sets.1,29 Hoping that overseas audiences would produce much
needed returns, Australasian invested heavily in Term, at least
20 times the normal production costs of $2,000 per picture.
Although Term ran for an unprecedented eleven-week local run,
the American release was upstaged and diminished by the first
American sound films in 1927. Australasian lost heavily and
shut down production activities in 1928 after another expensive
loss, Adorable Outcast faced the same overseas fate.
The Federal Government Intervenes: The
Royal Commission Inquiry
The Combine had other problems besides the new sound
technology, for it would have to defend its distribution and
exhibition practices at the upcoming government inquiry into
the local industry. The inquiry was called in late 1927
because several special interest groups (including the Women's
Christian Temperance Union, Women's Vigilance Society and
Empire Loyalists) as well as independent producers such as
Longford, Barrett and Smith had openly and continuously
criticized the proliferation of American films on Australian
screens. American films were deemed vulgar, cheap and immoral
by the Women's Groups, detrimental to the prestige of the
British Errpire by the Loyalists, and unfairly favored by a
local producers. The Commissioners held hearings in every
state capitol over a period of several months, in order to
49
examine all distribution and exhibition practices in Australia.
The members also intended to consider the possibility of
tariffs on American films and quotas for the local product (to
be inposed on all distributors and exhibitors). From the vary
beginning of the inquiry, independent producers were at a
disadvantage. First of all, the Bruce government was pro
capital, with a record of non-intervention in the business
practices of American distributors and the Combine. Secondly,
chairman, Walter Marks, chosen by the Bruce Administration,
clearly favored Hollywood films over local ones, often speaking
of the "necessary supremacy" of Hollywood.30 Thirdly, all
representatives from the distribution and exhibition "block"
were clearly better prepared for the Inquiry than local
producers.
Executives from Fox, Metro-Goldwyn-Meyer (formerly Metro),
Universal, First National, Famous Lasky (later Paramount) and
United Artists, as well as the two Combine representatives,
Williams Gibson, Chairman of the Board, and Stuart Doyle,
presented their cases in an organized manner, with sound and
articulate arguments. The American distributors coolly stated
that the idea of an American conspiracy or monopoly was the
"friction of heated imaginations"31 and that block booking was
perfectly legitimate. Hollywood's ally, William Gibson,
declared that Australian exhibitors were "just as much
businessmen as a grocer or mercer...[and] the local film
industry was for survival of the fittest .Therefore
50
exhibitors should not be forced to screen inferior Australian
films which would drive people from the box office.32
On the other hand, the local producers were ostensibly
disorganized and often at odds with each other. For example,
some directors favored a government funded studio, while others
thought this would encourage fly-by-night companies without any
commitment to developing a continuing local industry. Raymond
Longford, speaking on his own behalf, came across as naive and
even comical. He wanted the industry to return to its "golden
years," 1910-1913, when several local businesses thrived, a
climate in which he felt he could work best. He even favored
decreased duties on American films, suggesting that moneys
saved by distributors could be spent on Australian film
negatives for overseas distribution. After an embarrassing
silence in the hearing room, it was pointed out to Longford
that Hollywood studios would benefit far more than local
producers.33 Ultimately, the Commission favored capital; by
choosing not to interfere, it clearly endorsed the practices of
American distributors and the Combine. It found no evidence to
support the existence of an American film monopoly in
Australia, and although "conceding that block booking militated
constantly against Australian production, the Committee could
not accept the fact that block booking was deleterious to
it."34 The Commission also sanctioned the establishment of
British Dominion Films distribution arm in Australia
(consistent with Prime Minister Bruce's Empire allegiances),
51
thereby increasing the supply of "foreign" films in Australia
without establishing substantial distribution or exhibition
quotas for Australian films. Greater Union would soon
capitalize on this development by becoming the exclusive
exhibitor for Dominion films.
To the further chagrin of producers, many of the
Commission's recommendations intended to help producers were
out of the jurisdiction of the Commonwealth government,35 and
in the realm of states rights, but even if the federal
government could have legislated these proposals they would
have been too weak to be effective. 1) A three-year "Empire
Quota" for British and Australian films could be interpreted as
99 percent and 1 percent Australian, not helping local
producers overcame exhibition problems at all. 2) A maximum
limit of 12 months for distribution and exhibition contracts
would be ineffective as no exhibitor booked beyond twelve
months anyway. 3) Increased customs on foreign films (i.e.
American) meant only the addition of a few percentage points
beyond the base fee. For the record, the federal government did
campaign to transfer these recommendation into the realm of
Federal jurisdiction, but after eighteen unsuccessful months,
it gave up.
Two government recommendations which were made into law
were ultimately either ineffective or non-functional. The five
percent rejection clause for exhibitors was too low to be
useful to filmmakers. (Rejection clause meant that in a year
52
exhibitors could reject five percent of the total of their
films, independent of policy from distributors). The "awards
of merit" for Australian films were delayed for a year and a
half; even then, the government announced only the rules for
the competition.
For producers, the Inquiry proved to be a token gesture,
failing to give them strong protective legislation for the
proper distribution and exhibition of their films. Adams and
Shirley comment,
By late 1929, it was clear that for over two years the
film industry had stalled, awaiting an effective blueprint
from the Royal Commission.... Investment in Australian
feature production, which had stood at 100,000 pounds at
the start of the ...inquiries in 1927, had dropped to
10,000 pounds by late 1928. By the end of 1929,
(production) had virtually ceased altogether, (and in this
year), not one Australian feature went into general
release.-*6
For Hollywood distributors and Greater Union Theatres, the
Inquiry clearly reinforced their positions. From 1927-29,
American films gained a tighter hold in Australia, dominating
95 percent of local theatres. As if to make matters worse, the
advent of sound technology in 1927 and the economic depression
of 1929, had radical effects on the Australian film industry,
which would take five years to recover.
Economic Depression: Radical Government Measures
and Industry Re-Organization
The effects of the Depression began to be felt in
Australia as early as August, 1929, only a month after
the fall of Wall Street. Stocks plummeted to 40 percent (or
less) of their former value, as the many transactions made on
credit or small cash "downs" became worthless. The severe
shortage of hard currency became a world-wide phenomenon.
Australia was left in a particularly vulnerable position, as
the Bruce Administration had borrowed heavily from England
throughout the 1920's to develop local industries. Not only
was Australia's main source of financing cut off, but it was
heavily in debt. Its industries grinded to a halt; workers
were laid off, and the usual unemployment rate of six percent
of the work force soared to 30 percent by 1932. Australia was
further crippled by the fall of wheat and wool prices. (Wool
and wheat were Australia's main export staple, accounting for a
half and a quarter respectively of the total value of
Australian exports.38) Even in 1928, prices were one-quarter
of their value two years prior, and remained at this low point
for the next two years.
Australians were particularly hard-put to handle
depression conditions, having experienced three decades of
"social advancements, perceiving [their] nationality in terms
of continuing progress toward a greater measure of equality,
democracy and material prosperity for all citizens.1,39 They
elected two different administrations during the period 1929-
34, the worst years of the depression, each time hoping a
change would somehow ease the severe hardships imposed upon
them. Each new administration promised relief, but no
government could have done much to mitigate the effects of a
world wide phenomenon. Historian Russell Ward adds.
If they (the politicians) had been able to foresee the
inevitable miseries of the next few years, it is possible
that the political parties would have been competing to
lose the election so that their rivals would be the
scapegoats for some thereafter.40
Ultimately, all government policy for these five years,
regardless of party, was based on the theories of Australian
bankers, in turn influenced by American and British economists,
who recommended "deflationary" policies, which included massive
cuts to social services, including 25-30 percent reductions in
pensions, welfare and unemployment benefits. In an attempt to
encourage local production (without the problems of overseas
competition), embargoes or high tariffs were placed on imports.
Some government incentives to business were implemented; as a
result several local industries were developed (cigarette
factories, for example).
The Bruce ministry quickly turned to the local film
industry for the needed revenues in 1929, presenting a plan to
tax local exhibitors, who represented a "section of the film
industry which [had been] highly profitable, and which... [had]
succeeded in escaping taxation by devices which [had] taken
profits beyond the reach of existing legislation.41 The
proposed tax was to be 12 1/2 percent upon payments made to
"persons outside the Commonwealth by film importers for non-
British films."42 That is, Union Theatres and Hoyts would be
taxed one-eighth of their proceeds to American distributors and
both would be out 12 1/2 cents on every dollar. Stuart Doyle,
who recognized the potential losses from this proposal began a
full-fledged lobby against it encouraging all the Combine's
shareholders and employees, and members of allied industries to
wire or write "expressions of protest" to the government. To
rally public support, Australasian Films even produced a short
sound film demonstrating the dire prospects of closed theatres
and further unemployment.43 All the lobbying paid off. During
the subsequent session of Parliament, with the entertainment
tax issue as catalyst, two Liberal members of Parliament
"crossed the floor" (voted against their party) vetoing the tax
proposal and other tax measures. One of these men was Walter
Marks, the former chair of the Royal Inquiry, who was still
closely allied with the interests of the Combine and American
distributors. Marks used this tax issue to request and
implement a subsequently successful vote of no confidence
(meaning he wanted the Prime Minister out of office).
Parliament was then dissolved, and a general election was
called to select a new Prime Minister. The electorate, hoping
for economic relief from a new administration, elected the
Labor candidate James Scullin as Prime Minister.
Clearly, Doyle's tactics worked to help to get rid of the
"enemy" of the Combine. His power to influence the defeat of
the tax bill, as well as the dismissal of Bruce, demonstrated
the increasing authority of the Combine to manipulate govern
ment to its advantage. Although a Conservative government had
56
traditionally favored private industry through a laissez-faire
policy (as demonstrated in the 1920's and particularly during
the Royal Commission proceedings and subsequent recommenda
tions) , the fact was the Bruce government desperately needed
revenue to get the country back on its feet. This was not a
party affair, Doyle would have fought against any government
attempting to threaten the financial stability of his company.
Ironically, when Labor took over (in October, 1929) the
administration immediately passed laws taxing American
distributors on 30 percent of their remittances overseas, while
increasing film import duties from three to four dollars per
foot, with a further levy of 2.5 percent on each United States
film.44 This legislation was consistent with Labor policy to
protect and encourage local industries by taxing the "foreign"
competition. Greater Union and Hoyts were not directly taxed,
although later, American distributors passed on the increases
to exhibitors through rental fees. The Scullin government was
only in power for two years (through January 1932), and the
labor party was frequently split over the most effective means
to deal with the Depression. Essentially it assumed the policy
of the former Conservative government, continuing the reduction
of social services and wages.
Overall, wage reductions and unemployment had a dramatic
effect on theatre attendance from 1930 on, in spite of the
initial novelty and popularity of sound films. The first
talkie screened in Sydney in February 1929, was the Jazz Singer
J
(the first American sound film with talking sequences), making
its detout after a New York premiere a year prior. The results
were stupendous. Within six days, 30,000 people had flocked to
see Singer, and a year later during the first three weeks of
January, an estimated 200,000 people saw sound films in Sydney
alone.45 Because Australian filmmakers were not able to
produce their first sound features until 1931, as they lacked
financing and expertise, Australian theatres depended on
American films, primarily musicals, comedies and gangster films
to fill their schedules.
However, in spite of the innovation of sound, and the
subsequent surge in audience attendance in 1929, the effects of
the depression caused attendance to fall off by as much as 50
percent during 1930-32. A decline in audiences meant fewer
revenues for exhibitors: by mid-1931, film returns were at
their lowest for five years.46 Hoyts theatres which had
profited 80,000 pounds in 1929-30, showed a loss of 18,500
pounds in the second half of 1930. Union theatres and
associates went from 44,000 pounds in profits in 1930 to losses
of 48,102 pounds in early 1931.47 Both companies were forced
to reduce salaries, dismiss employees and close theatres.
Hoyts and Union Theatres had begun to experience financial
problems before the onset of the Depression. From 1926-29,
both had invested heavily in huge palatial theatres to
accommodate and showcase American films, and both had gone
heavily into debt. In 1930, however, the American based Fox
58
Film corporation "solved" Hoyt's problem by buying a
controlling share in the company (as well as absorbing its
debts), thus becoming the first overseas and American company
to own an Australian distribution/exhibition company. This
action created a chain of events that boosted Fox's power over
the local industry, and consolidated the Combine's. In 1933,
the holding company for Hoyt's and Greater Union, ESA Bank,
forced a merger between the two distribution segments, "to curb
rivalry, expenditures and losses of both chains"48 creating a
new distribution company General Theatres Corporation, which
supplied products to both theatre chains. This merger gave Fox
prime access to the "distribution monopoly" GTC. The manager
of the GTC was Hollywood's old ally, Stuart Doyle. (In 1931,
Doyle had alleviated Greater Union's debts by re-organizing the
Combine into a new parent company — Greater Union Pictures,
Ltd.- by purchasing the Combine's assets for the amount of its
overdraft, or 4,000,000 pounds. The new production arm was
Cinesound Productions; exhibition retained the logo Greater
Union Theatres.) With Doyle as manager of GTC and Fox holding
a controlling interest in it, GTC could choose to distribute
only films from Cinesound or Fox. This situation caused a
stalement in the film trade,49 referred to as the Film Wars of
1933 when independent producers (pushing for distribution and
exhibition quotas for Australian films) claimed they had no
choice of distributors to handle their product — formerly they
had two, Hoyts and Greater Union. American distributors
(excluding Fox) joined the fray, arguing they had no access to
the Fox-controlled General Theatres Corporation (and thereby to
Hoyts or Greater Union Theatres): they threatened to build
their own theatres.
A Second Government Inquiry
In response to this crisis, the New South Wales government
under the leadership of Conservative Bertrand Stevens, held an
inquiry into the film trade impasse in December, 1933. Stevens
was a vociferous advocate of the local industry,50 but as the
Quota Act (1935) later demonstrated, he and his government
preserved amicable relations with, and bowed to American and
local distributors mainly because both brought substantial tax
revenues to state coffers. Walter Marks, Hollywood's old ally
from the 1927 Inquiry chaired the proceedings. With a pro
capitalist officiator and government, the hearing was hardly
sympathetic to independent producers.
On behalf of the local producers, the most impassioned
statement came from filmmaker Frank Thring, who had placed his
personal fortune into his Melbourne studio, Efftee Productions,
only to see his productions consistently denied theatres.
Thring argued that GTC had "eliminated [his] bargaining power
and reduced his terms with Hoyts."51 Raymond Longford echoed
Thring's sentiments (and summarized two decades of prohibitive
practices), exclaiming, "Here we have a home market to which
the local film is denied full access."52
60
But the recommendations from the Inquiry, which later
became the New South Wales Quota Act, (1935), differed little
from those of the Royal Commission. No government restrictions
were placed on theatre licenses (thus opening the way for
American distributors to proceed with their theatre building
plans). Nor would the government interfere with local
distribution policies? a distributor had the right to block
book, choose or reject films, regardless of where the film
originated. Distributors and exhibitors were bound, however,
to five-year Australian quotas, four percent for exhibitors,
and five percent for distributors; this part of the bill was
clearly included to appease local producers, but it had no
teeth. Adams and Shirley comment:
All distributors were aware that although bound by the
quota system to produce Australian films, if an
insufficient number was available for distribution they
could be exempt from obligations if their compliance was
not commercially practicable.53
The phrase "not commercially practicable" was open to inter
pretation, and exemptions were allowed in 1936. In 1937, the
American and Australian film exchanges (all belonging to the
powerful Motion Pictures Distributors Association) threatened
to withdraw all films from New South Wales should they be made
to comply with quota requirements.54 The government conceded
at that time, and in 1938, When it passed the Film and Theatres
Act, reducing quota percentages to two and one-half percent;
Australian films were required to be released in two year
61
period 1938-39. (Accordingly, only ten films were produced and
released in this period).
The Sound Product— American and British
Models
i
*
I
Throughout the 30's, only three studios, Efftee, National
and Cinesound had the operating and production funds to make
films, for the new sound product was contingent on major
investments to meet the expense of the technology. Only
Cinesound, however, with solid corporate backing and sensible
seasoned management, and guaranteed in-house distribution and
exhibition was able to exist past 1936 (when Efftee and
National ceased productions).
Efftee Studios
Frank Thring had established his studios in early 1931,
having to buy his sound equipment at considerable expense from
RCA (at this time, Australian technicians had not developed a
reliable sound-on-film system). In his films, made from 1931-
34, he experimented with a variety of local themes and modes.
i
He did a re-make of Sentimental Bloke (1932), filmed a popular
play, Clara Gibbinas (1934), and a stage revue, Diggers.
(1931), and did an American-inspired operetta, His Roval
I
1 Highness (1932).
Thring's major problem was distribution and exhibition,
reminiscent of Barrett's and Longford's problems in the 20's.
62
Each of Hiring's films screened in only one theatre, and his
returns fell far short of production costs. As pointed out
before, the GTC merger shut Thring out, and ironically he was
only able to obtain distribution through the Australian branch
of American distributor, Universal, (which made a special deal
to book his films in Hoyt's theatres). Thring moved his studios
to Sydney in 1934, in anticipation of the NSW Quota Act, but
shortly thereafter, he died before he could begin his first
production, having lost a private fortune of 75,000 pounds.
National Studios
National Studios and its sister company National
Productions (both backed by several local businessmen) was
established in Sydney September, 1935, its purpose to "provide
advanced studio facilities for the benefit of all independent
producers, and establish a large scale film industry, producing
features for a world market."5^ Gaumont-British production
company would provide technical and creative assistance, as
management planned to expand its production base into
Australia, and boost the number of international films. The
aims of the conpany's founders were lofty in light of a world
wide depression, yet were made shortly after the NSW Quota Act,
and in anticipation of increased production activities.
Further, much local credence was put into British know-how
because their recent prolific and first rate production record.
Ever since 1927, with the passing of the British
Cinematograph Act, (dictating distribution and exhibition
quotas for the British product at home), the number of British
films had soared. London Film Productions under Alexander
Korda, and Gaumont-British under Michael Balcon were the most
productive, with Balcon making 40 films a year, investing 25
million in 1932 alone. Many of Korda's and Balcon*s films were
screened in Australian theatres (distributed by British
Dominion Films, and exhibited by Greater Union). Gaumont
production crews assisted in the design and construction of
National Studios, and also provided National Productions' first
film, The Flying Doctor (1936) with its director, writer and
soundmen. The film, consistent with National's manifesto, was
aimed for three markets — Australian, British and American —
and boasted an American star, Charles Farrell. It was lavishly
budgeted at 40,000 pounds, three or four times the going
production rate. But its "something for everyone" formula
created an overwrought mixture of "Western appeal, sporting
excitement, society melodrama and an emergency medical mission
all linked by the increasing wanderings of an [eventually
blinded) drifter, adopted by the Flying Doctor, who, it
transpires in an Enoch Arden denouement, has married the
drifter's own estranged wife."56 Box office returns were
encouraging locally, but the film needed overseas markets to
return costs. The British distribution deal was never made
because Gaumont, overextended and in debt, withdrew from direct
involvement in distributing Flying Doctor in late 1936, (and
shut down productions shortly thereafter). And in the United
States, the film failed to gamer significant attendance.
Ultimately, Flvina Doctor was an indication of Gaumont’s
confusion about the elements for international success in its
bid for world markets, but its demise signalled the end of
another Australian studio. National Productions ceased in
1936, and the studios were only used from time to time in the
next few years for local productions.
Cinesound
Cinesound had initially modest aims, tailoring its films
for local audiences. Ken G. Hall, former Union Theatres
publicist, was chosen by Stuart Doyle in 1931 to produce and
direct all the Cinesound films. Hall's goal was to create a
flourishing film industry, modeled after the Hollywood studio
system and its product. He contracted cameramen, sound experts
(including Arthur Smith who had developed his own sound on film
process for Cinesound), scriptwriters and editors, creating an
in-house production crew for Cinesound's four studios (three in
Sydney and one in Melbourne). Although Hall' s films centered
on recognizable Australian themes (based on literature, plays,
or original scripts by Hall and his collaborators), the narra-
r
! tives were derived from popular Hollywood genres, primarily
musicals and gangster films (two of the most prolific genres
65
coming out of Hollywood at this time), with a strong emphasis
on action and spectacle, using state of the art special
effects. Much of the camera work was done by Arthur Higgins,
whose experience in lighting styles and film stocks could
cuplicate Expressionistic Lighting57 in gangster films, or
crisp black and whites in musicals. Ultimately, as did his
| contemporaries in Hollywood, Hall saw his role as that of
entertainer, and he was guided by a "philosophy of show
manship. . .perceiving (his) responsibility to give his audience
their money’s worth of amusement or excitement."58
Hall was also an intelligent businessman, understanding
the vulnerability of the entertainment industry during
Depression years; Each film was brought under (or within)
budget, and each "did not cost more than it could safely
recover on the home market."59 Hall applied the profits from
each film to the next production, and because of his sensible
management, Cinesound studios was the most active and well-run
production company in the 1930's, producing 17 films, all but
one making money.
i
Cinesound's early films were reworkings of familiar
I material — On Our Selection (1932), and The Squatter's
i
Daughter (1933, first filmed in 1910). Both were odes to
pioneer days, exalting the spirit and courage of early
settlers, serving to boost the morale of Depression audiences.
Hall injected these films with broad farce through frequent
♦
| slapstick sequences, just as Beaumont Smith had done with his
66
Hayseeds series. For example, a sequence from On Our
Selection.
involved a trio of disaster-prone shearers, one of Whom
unintentionally charms a snake with his bagpipes and is
amorously pursued by the deceptively genteel
housekeeper.. .Miss Ramsbottom.60
I
Hall did a serious remake of the Silence of Dean Maitland
(1934) and gained much mileage out of well-publicized
threatened cuts by state government censor — one scene where
the female lead (presumable nude) swims on a deserted beach,
the other, where she seduces a rather willing clergyman.61
Gutsy and persistent, Hall won his battles with the censor, and
cashed in at the box office with free publicity. After Silence.
Hall freely mixed genres, capitalizing on Hollywood derived
formulas. For example, the "gangster musical" Strike Me Lucky
(1934), focused on a man's friendship with a small girl whom he
finds dancing in the streets; gangsters try to kidnap the girl,
a search is made for a lost gold mine, and (the man) meets a
tribe of wild Aboriginals. Elsewhere in the film a character
impersonates Mae West (using the name June East), and ".. .a
ballet of 150 dancers performs periodically in Busby Berkeley
formations.1,62
Early in 1936, H a i l visited Hollywood, and purchased a
rear projection unit which was used in every film thereafter,
adding the extra attraction of a background environment to
I
1 enhance the film's atmosphere and its sense of location, and
boost its audience appeal. (Rear projection is a process in
67
which a background scene is projected onto a translucent screen
behind the actors, so it appears that the actors are in that
location.)63 Audiences packed into theatres to see films such
as Thoroughbred (1936), with its dazzling action sequences of
horse racing, and Lovers and luggers (1937), with its exotic
scenes of the South Seas. (Lovers became one of Cinesound's
most profitable ventures.)
However, even though Cinesound productions were highly
lucrative and self-supporting, Cinesound's parent company
Greater Union, remained in severe financial difficulties
throughout the thirties. (Its debts included a 50,000 pound
overdraft by 1936, a carry-over from theatre building in the
1920's). In mid-1937, accountant Norman Rydge took over as
Cinesound's new managing director, ending Doyle's decade of
aggressive theatre expansion and film production, and
commencing a period of conservatism in expenditures and number
of film productions. Rydge believed that his first
responsibility was to his shareholders, and demanded
"indisputable evidence that any investment could earn a
consistent profit of at least 10 percent."64 With Rydge's
emphasis on every film's accountability, the Cinesound product
turned "safer" and thus more formulaic, following the Hollywood
studio pattern of films geared "for a family audience focusing
on a comedic or semi-comedic 'little man' opposed to powerful
individuals or corporate forces, finally triumphant with the
aid of sympathetic friends."65 Dad and Dave Come to Town
68
(1938) and Mr. Chedworth Steps Out (1939) fit this formula
perfectly, and might have been modeled on the films of
Hollywood director, Frank Capra. The latter has a Capra-esque
title, its theme probably based on Capra's Mr. Smith Goes to
Washington, or Mr. Deeds Goes to Town. Rydge's plans were also
to produce films for broader audiences and to increase
revenues, particularly from Britain. His strategy worked, as
all seven films under his management were released in England,
four with outstanding results.
However, in 1938, Greater Union was facing another
problem. The British government did not renew its (1927) quota
for Australian films, thus jeopardizing Cinesound's lucrative
overseas market. In addition, Union Theatres' pool of films
had been decreasing since 1936 when Gaumont-British had ceased
production. GU's only reliable sources were Universal and
Cinesound,66 as the lucrative Fox-Greater Union link existed no
longer, after the GTC merger had broken up in 1937, Rydge (and
the managers of National Productions) appealed to the New South
Wales premier Bertram Stevens for legislation to establish a
local quota for British productions (hoping that the British
government would reciprocate), and provide "direct financial
assistance" for producers. The subsequent legislation, included
in the December, 1938 Theatres, Public Halls and Cinematograph
Films Bill, (the same bill that provided such weak quota laws
; favoring distributors and exhibitors) was a break-through for
I producers, laying out provisions for the first government
I _____________________ — . ---— --------------1
69
feature film subsidies in Australia's history, in the form of
"overdrafts" to cover 15,000 pounds in each of four film
budgets. (Awards were determined by government appointed
commissioners). The bill did not, however, include a quota for
j British films.
One award each was made to independent director Charles
Chauvel, and to Cinesound, and two awards were given to Argosy
Films production company. Funds were delayed for a year, and
when they were finally available in early 1940, war had already
broken out in Europe. Consistent with Empire commitments,
Australia was mobilizing its troops to send to Europe and North
Africa in support of Allied forces. Therefore the State's
choice of war themes in three out of four films was consistent
with the Commonwealth government's all-out policy of using the
film medium to inform and educate the public about the war
effort.
The Australian Government Reinforces
British and American Links, and
Gears the Country tip for the War Effort
Australia's involvement in a global war significantly
altered its relationship with England and the United States,
ultimately causing significant changes in the local industry,
with respect to the nature of the product and its economic
base. Australia assisted Britain and her allies in defending
I
j France and Egypt (from 1940-42), but was forced to ask the
I United States for aid late in 1941 when its own country's
70
security was threatened by invading Japanese forces. Although
the American bond had a more dramatic and long-lasting effect
on Australian culture in the fifties and sixties (as the power
and extent of the "British Empire" declined), both Britain and
the United States made substantial investments in Australian
films during the war, and for two decades thereafter. These
overseas-based productions eclipsed the local product, which
!
! came to be thought of as either American or British.
During the war years, the documentary became the dominant
mode in Australian film production, as Norman Rydge ceased
feature film production at Cinesound studios in 1940, not only
to stabilize Greater Union's financial status, but also to use
services provided by the government created Film Division to
produce newsreels and propaganda films. Only ten features were
produced from 1940-45 (the majority from New South Wales
subsidies and American financing) mainly due to the shortage of
film stock (silver nitrate was needed for gunpowder), and
manpower (as many technicians and actors had volunteered in the
military forces).
The government - managed Film Division was under the
auspices of the newly created Department of Information, its
function to organize all media information released in
Australia dealing with the war.67 The DOI had control of all
j
! film stock, and hired camera men from the local industry to
shoot overseas and locally; it then sold this footage at a
nominal price to production companies, including Cinesound and
71
American owned newsreel rival, Fox Movietone News, which would
then assemble it into newsreels and featurettes. The purpose
of the Film Division was to co-ordinate government and
commercial film production, in order to educate the public
about war bond drives, supply rationing and war front news
through these informational films.
The government’s needs however were vaguely defined in
terms of narrative style and content (the only stipulation that
the tone exude strong nationalism). Cinesound's Ken G. H a l l
and independent director Charles Chauvel "responded to this
creative freedom and to the urgency of war effort with
vigorous, striking work.”68 Hall, in particular, inflected his
films with fiery national patriotism, "with all the force and
rhetoric he had learned as a film publicist."69 Pike and
Cooper point out,
Cinesound News Magazine tended to carry a greater
emotional content than its competitor Fox Movietone. A
note of dramatic urgency was characteristic of the
Cinesound newsreel during the worst months of the New
Guinea campaign, and Hail was determined to arouse
Australians from their (supposed) apathy by expressing his
fears for Australian security.70
In spite of all the efforts of the DOI Film Division,
which produced a total of 94 films by 1943, the government
still believed that the Australian participation in the war
front was not being completely "publicized." It subsequently
complained to the British Ministry of Information that the
Australian war effort needed more of the limelight in British
propaganda.71 This action, first of all, demonstrated the
72
commitment of the newly elected Labor government72 (October,
1941), in promoting Australian endeavors in Allied campaigns
abroad — a move consistent with its strong nationalistic
stance. Secondly, it demonstrated Australia's lingering
colonial dependence on the "greater wisdom" of Britain. The
British Ministry of Information, on which the Australian DOI
had been modeled, had boasted a celebrated coterie of
filmmakers trained in the John Grierson school of social
realism, and the Labor government wanted help from the EMI in
producing and directing "serious" features meant not only for
British but also Australian audiences. Subsequently, the head
of the EMI approached Michael Balcon (now director of
production of Earling studios), who suggested that Harry Watt,
a filmmaker with a distinguished background in documentaries,
look into the "problem." Treated almost like royalty, Watt
came to Australia as a guest of the Australian government and
Britain's official war correspondent, "not with a film to make
but to find a theme for a film"73 which would in some way deal
with the (Australian) government's request. His subsequent
film, produced by Earling Studios, was entitled The
Overlanders. (1946), based on the real life cattle drive from
the Northern territory to the East, away from the possible
slaughter by Japanese troops. Although British financed,
Overlanders had an Australian cast and crew, and "was a careful
assemble of mannerisms, vocabulary and attitudes to
characterize the Australian taushman,"74 while extolling the
73
rugged, indominable Australian spirit in the face of
insurmountable odds. The Overlanders was a great commercial
success in Australia, as well as in Britain and the United
States. The Labor government proudly regarded it as a showcase
film for the country, and encouraged Ealing to stay.
The Overlarders became the first of several Ealing
produced films in Australia, as Ealing's ulterior motive in
sending Watt had been to scout out Australia as a future
production base. Ealing's success with The Overlanders
encouraged several American companies to follow suit after the
war, thus settling up Australia as an "exotic overseas
backdrop." But some American studios already had their hand in
Australian productions as early as 1941, a practice consistent
with Australia's new links to America, prompted by the nation's
need for American military defense.
Indeed, the Curtain Labor government was hard-pressed to
ask the United States for help in its own defense. Labor
policy had traditionally favored a self-sustained, almost
isolationist Australia, avoiding liaisons with Britain or
America.75 Initially, the Curtain administration had been
voted in because it placed far mare emphasis on the defense of
Australia: the country was becoming increasingly paranoid as
Japan moved southward in mid-1941 invading China, and then a
few months later, into Indo-China. Prior to the election of
the labor administration, the liberal Country coalition (under
the ministership of Robert Menzies) had offered weak leader-
74
ship. The coalition was rift with inner turmoil, and the
morale of the country was low: Australian troops were fighting
in Europe to aid an Allied cause, but its position was
deteriorating badly, as Fascism spread and Hitler invaded
Holland, Belgium, and Luxembourg. A few months before the
October election Germany invaded Russia.
Only one month after Labor took power, Germany's ally,
Japan, sank the Australian cruiser, the HMAS Sydney, a few
hundred kilometers northwest of Australia's western coast.
Australia declared war on Japan, independent of Britain, and in
asking the United States for military aid, shifted its
allegiances. (One month later, Japan bombed Pearl Harbor, and
the United States declared war on Japan). With United States
defense commitments, thousands of American G.I. 's flooded into
Australia in early 1942, opening the way for mass American
ization of Australia. Australia's dependence on, and its new
relationship with America created a spirit of cooperation. On
the level of the film industry, the government reduced the
income tax on American distributors from 30 to 10 percent.76
Within this friendly (and lucrative) atmosphere, American
studios invested in four out of 10 productions during war
years, and Hollywood directors supervised two pictures (one
partly American financed, the other Australian financed). As
if endorsing American participation, the Australian government
provided military assistance (including troops and advice) for
three of the four American-financed pictures.
75
For his two pictures, Charles Chauvel received over half
his financing from American studios. Chauvel had been making
features since the late 20' s and though he had consistently
explored national themes,77 he realized (as had Ken G. Hall)
the importance of incorporating proven commercial Hollywood
ingredients in his films to attract local and overseas
audiences — namely dazzling visuals and bold action, encased
in a tight, fast-moving linear narrative. Chauvel had even
perfected this technique be working at Universal studios for a
year in 1936, so his experience and reputation helped him to
obtain American financing. Forty Thousand Horsemen (with one-
fourth financing from Universal, one-third from Fox/Hoyt's,
which also distributed, the remainder from the New South Wales
subsidy), focused on the charge of the Australian Light Brigade
in Palestine during World War I, and had the participation of
the Australian Machine Gun Regiment.78 The main battle
sequence, "comparable to" if not showing the direct influence
of American director Michael Curtiz1, Charge of the Light
Brigade. (1936) was composed of "numerous intimately detailed
panoramic shots — explosions with the defense of trenches,
thundering hooves and flying bodies, and a confusion of falling
horses."79 Horsemen served as a wartime morale booster,
breaking all box office records in Australia, and was heartily
endorsed by Australian government officials and military
ministers. It also screened widely and successfully in Britain
and the United States.
76
For Chauvel's next film Rats of Torbruk. (1944) RKO and
Fox-Hoyts invested one-third each, (RKO distributing), both
hoping for the same commercial success as Horsemen. Also
assisted by the military, including the Australian army and
airforce, Rats focused on three soldiers engaged in the Allied
resistance to German forces in the 1940 North African campaign.
The film was less romanticized and idealistic than Horsemen,
and portrayed war not as an adventure, but as a tragedy. As he
had done in Horsemen. Chauvel included dazzling scenes of
combat action, and at the insistence of Fox/Hoyts, he developed
a love interest for one of the soldiers, perhaps to offset the
film's somber tone, and to make it more appealing for
audiences. Because of its more realistic appraisal of war,
Rats had only modest success in Australia, screening in Britain
and the United States with fair business.
If Chauvel's war films showed the influence of the
Hollywood stylistic, then That Certain Something (1941,
Australian financed), and A Yank in Australia (1942, NSW
subsidy and private Australian financing, RKO distributing)
represented examples of creative control of local films in the
hands of Hollywood directors. Both narratives reinforced the
American influence by centering on an American character.
Clarence Badger's That Certain Something, the theme of which
pointed to real-life shifts in the local industry, was Badger's
attempt to recapture his success with It (1927)80 by
resurrecting the story of finding a girl with "that certain
something." In this film, a Hollywood director comes to
Australia on a talent quest to find and cast the perfect girl
for his film. The film did poorly in Australia, which is not
surprising given its disparaging and bitter (if honest) view of
the Australian film world, particularly, its inclusion of
"uninformed and nervous investors."
Alf Goulding, a veteran director of Hollywood silent
comedy (who directed Laurel and Hardy in their 1940 A Chump at
Oxford), structure his film A Yank in Australia with an
American journalist as narrator, who with his British and
Australian colleagues uncovers a plot of a Japanese invasion of
Australia. Local audiences did not react well to Goulding's
attempts to "lighten up" the Japanese threat, clearly
preferring the more dashing earlier war adventure spectacle,
Forty Thousand Horsemen.
M M had better luck with The Power and the Glory (1942,
NSW subsidy and independent Australian financing), its first
local distribution venture, which capitalized on anti-German
sentiment. In the film, a troop of Germans invades Australia
to steal a formula from a Czedhlosvokian refugee, but they are
thwarted by the Australian Air Force. Like Chauvel's films,
Power contained stunning battle scenes showing the bravery of
Australian armed forces: in this case, the Royal Australian
Air Force staged several scenes of aerial combat to portray dog
fights between German and Australian planes.
78
Although all ten feature films made during the war years
focused on Australian themes, over half demonstrated in various
ways the Hollywood influence in terms of style, creative
control, financial control (including production and
distribution strategies), establishing precedents that would
lead to more American financed "Australian" productions after
the war.
Cinesound Shuts Down— Greater Union
Goes British
If the climate was favorable for American and British
productions in Australia during the war and thereafter, it was
increasingly difficult for local productions. The major
problem for local producers continued to be distribution and
exhibition, a situation which worsened when The Rank Film
Corporation brought controlling share in Greater Union
Theatres, Ltd., in August, 1947. Rank's takeover of Greater
Union gave owner J. Arthur Rank the overseas theatres he needed
for his productions, which were not competing well in England
with the American product. American films had been pouring
into Britain since April, 1947, when the British government had
withdrawn its proposed 75 percent tax on profits made by
foreign films in British theatres. The Greater Union take-over
also benefited managing director, Norman Rydge. Although
Greater Union had dissolved its debts during the war (through
the popular Cinesound newsreel screenings), the post-war
79
admissions and profits had declined (as the number of newsreels
diminished). Rydge was also nervous about delays on Charles
Chauvel1 s production Sons of Matthew (still shooting after a
year of production in 1947), a film in which Rydge had invested
10,000 pounds. He reasoned that the "screening of a guaranteed
supply of imported films [primarily Rank produced] in Greater
Union Theatres" would benefit Greater Union more [than the
company's] investment in any more feature productions."81
Cinesound productions would continue with newsreels, but there
would be no more feature production. Rydge closed down the
Cinesound laboratory in July 1948, within the next two years
sold all the studio facilities. Adams and Shirley comment on
the implications of this move:
Cinesound' s disappearance from feature film production was
a severe blow to the optimism of post-war Australian
producers. That Cinesound was not permitted to continue
proved that financial conservatism was becoming the
accepted thinking, and that the industry's momentum was
already on the wane. In a post-war social climate that
placed emphasis on national growth and international
prominence, community support for a local film industry
was to diminish more than at any time previously.82
With Australia's only feature production house closed,
many actors and actresses left for England or the United States
to find work, thus leading to an overseas "talent drain,"
depriving the local industry of its talent pool. Further, with
the two main distribution and exhibition chains overseas-owned
(Fox still had a controlling interest in Hoyts), local
producers were finding it increasingly difficult to exhibit
their films, having to work with managers whose priorities were
80
screening American and English films. By the early fifties,
Fox/Hoyts and Rank/Greater Union would own all theatres in key
suburban or city locations (185 and 128 theatres each,
respectively) .83 In Sydney, for example — an exhibition
situation that reflected that of other major cities, including
Melbourne, Brisbane, and Adelaide — Hoyts and Greater Union
owned 21 out of 25 theatres.84 (MGM and Australian
independents each owned two theatres).
Menzies Reinforces United States
Links and Australian Neo-Colonialism
The political atmosphere further reinforced deterrents to
local production. The election of conservative coalition
candidate, Robert Menzies in December, 1949, (his party was now
called Liberal), climaxed four years of post-war conservativism
fueled by United States initialed anti-Russian sentiment and
fear of a world-wide Communist conspiracy. United States
leaders repeatedly reminded Australia that America's new
adversary, Russia, was annexing helpless countries such as
Poland, Czechoslovakia and Hungary. Japan's 1941 attack on
Australia was still fresh in the minds of the populace, and
represented that first time Australia's shores had ever been
invaded, infusing its inhabitants with an overwhelming and
continuing sense of helplessness and vulnerability.
Australia's "desperate" need for post-war American military
might against the Red Menace, including Communist China, which
81
was only several hundred miles north, was the main argument
used by Menzies during his election campaign, as he attacked
the Labor government, linking the Labor administration to the
Communist party, while simultaneously feeding into post-war
paranoia. The Conservative coalition (representing private
business, and wealthy landowners, many affiliated with the
Country Party) accused the Labor government of not only
planning a massive socialization of Australia, but also of
setting up the country to be ruled by a Communist-type
dictatorship, as it singled out and denounced many of the
Australian labor unions as being inspired and led by
Communists: they were not. The leader of the Country party
summed up the theme of the Opposition's campaign:
If you choose the Labor party, then your ballot paper will
truly be your last will and testament, disposing in your
own lifetime of your liberties and your property and
condemning your children and your children's children to
the living death of socialist regimentation.85
Guided by such "convincing" arguments, the electorate played it
safe, and elected Menzies, who was Prime Minister for the next
sixteen years. During this time, he stressed Empire times, but
made all defense and economic agreements with the United
States.
The first pact, the Anzus Pact (1951, United States,
Australia, New Zealand) was made in the middle of the Korean
War, for which the Australian government eagerly provided
troops on sea and in the air to aid the United States in its
"liberation" of South Korea from Russian-backed advancing North
82
Korean forces. Australia's gesture created a "warmer and
closer relationship between the two countries that at any time
since the Japanese attack in 1941."86 For its Korean support,
(and consistent with U.S. Pacific defense strategy), Australia
was given the security of the United States' commitment to come
to Australia's (and New Zealand's) aid should their shores be
threatened by "an armed attack in the Pacific— dangerous to
its own peace and safety."87
Three years, later, the Seato Pact was organized (by the
United States) as a direct result of a turmoil further south in
Vietnam, as Vietnamese nationalists resisted the French
controlled puppet government in South Vietnam. The treaty gave
Australia broader security with a more cornprehensive agreement,
including commitments from United Kingdom, France, Pakistan,
the Philippines, Thailand, (in addition to Anzus members), in
the event of aggression against any one of them. The pact also
gave the United States a broad network of Pacific defense
commitments primarily aimed at helping its ally France in
containing Communism not only in Vietnam, but anywhere in the
Pacific.
For Menzies these two agreements secured for Australia
defense safeguards from siper-power America. In return, the
Menzies government would allow the United States to build two
anti-missile sites in Australia in the 60's to detect and shoot
down (potential) Russian missiles on their way to the United
States. Consistent with his policy reinforcing American links,
83
Menzies also encouraged massive American investments in
Australia, particularly in mineral and natural resource
development, including coal, oil, natural gas and uranium.
These overseas investments were necessary (he argued) "for the
maintenance of a stable economy and high standard of living."88
It was within this atmosphere, conducive to international
influences, that American and British film production companies
operated, their presence welcome at the expense of the local
industry whose existence Menzies (ironically) hardly noticed.
Post-War "Local" Productions
British Films
Encouraged by the huge success of The Overlanders, Ealing
produced four more films in Australia. All were lavish, expen
sive productions, geared for international distribution in the
United States and Britain as well as locally. The first two
focused on Australian themes: Eureka Stockade (1949, directed
by Watt) centered on a gold mine strike in 1854; Bitter Springs
(1950, directed by British documentary filmmaker, Ralph Smart),
was the saga of a turn-of-the-century pioneer family pitted
against Aborigine natives over land rights. Both films were
plagued by inclement weather during the shooting, which caused
production delays and cost over-runs. Each film was well
received by Australian audiences, but box-office results in the
United States and Britain for Eureka were disappointing,
84
proving it to be a costly failure; consequently no attempt was
made to market Bitter Springs overseas.
Ealing's last two attempts to create profitable
productions showed a conforming to Hollywood generic formulas
in order to complete more successfully with American films.
The Shiralee (1957, directed by Leslie Norman, who helped to
produce Eureka Stockaded was a family melodrama focusing on the
travels of swagman and his daughter (who initially represents a
burden for him, thus the reason for film's title, the Aborigine
word for burden). In The Siege of Pinchgut (1959, Watt), a
"convict" escapes from jail "to attract public sympathy for his
demand for a re-trial [so] he can prove his innocence."89
Siege was an odd mixture of British and American influences ;
its themes and style were heavily influenced by 1940's and
1950's American crime pictures, and the lead roles were played
by British actors (which the British unions forced on Watt).
The film was released at the Berlin Film Festival as a British
film. Both The Shiralee and Siege drew little overseas
interest, although The Shiralee played in Australia for several
months. However, Ealing was in serious financial trouble while
Siege was filming in 1959. The studio had over-extended itself
in Britain and Australia (just as Gaumont had in the 30's),
failing to achieve enough international commercial success to
continue with its productions. Ealing Productions was sold to
Associated British Pictures Corporation shortly after Siege was
released.
The American Productions
85
American-based films in the post-war years fell into two
categories: studio films to unfreeze capital held in Australia
by government restrictions during the war (primarily Columbia
and 20th Century Fox), and independent "runaway" productions,
unbound by studio system control. In the latter case, Australia
was a highly desirable location because producers could avoid
high American union wages, and take advantage of a fresh new
landscape. Both studio and independent productions were geared
for American and British audiences, with Australian viewers a
second priority; in various ways all the films compromised any
local color or themes.
Columbia's Smithy (1946) was the most Australian, based on
the life of Australian aviator, Sir Charles Kingsford-Smith,
and was directed by former Cinesound director, Ken G. Hall.
Under the orders of Columbia head, Harry Cohn, the film was re-
edited in the American version "to disguise the fact the film
had been made by Australians."90 Further, almost all reference
to Smith's country of origin were deleted. Fox's Kangaroo
(1952), a sequel to Walt Disney's Treasure Island, was a
transposed American Western. In Smilev (Fox, 1956), which
focused on the adventures of a young country boy, more familiar
terms were substituted for Australian colloquialisms in
overseas versions, and the film was overlaid with a heavy
orchestral score "more suitable for a British pastoral
comedy, "91 (although the film presented an unusually honest
view of the Australian bush, resisting any urge to introduce
exotic wildlife or to indulge in tourist photography"92 which
Kangaroo had done).
The independent producers of Summer of the Seventh Doll
(1959), and On the Beach (1959), went to great lengths to
rework a local stage play, and an Australian novel,
(respectively), for broad audience appeal. Summer had been a
popular play in Australia, focusing on two aging sugar cane
cutters. In the film, the leads were American and British, and
the setting was changed to Sydney to "beautify" its environment
(formerly it had been the urban Carlton area of Melbourne).
The filmmakers also substituted "violence and rough jostling"
to move the story along, leaving out the more subtle scenes
which expressed the passing of a simpler way of life for the
two Australian workers. In On the Beach, the account of the
final days of several people who are the last inhabitants on
earth after a nuclear holocaust, producer Stanley Kramer
released two versions, one dubbed with local jargon and slang
for Australian audiences, and one for international release
with the originals dialects of the American actors and
actresses. Kramer also played down the "frightening technical
detail" from Nevil Shute's novel, (presumably to make his film
more palatable to commercial audiences), choosing rather to
emphasize the romantic sub-plots.93 Summer did fair business
in Australia, (it was not released abroad) and On the Beach
87
made several world premieres simultaneously, receiving
excellent box office reception internationally. Both
production companies, however, did not make any more films in
Australia, and resumed productions in the States. As for the
studios, essentially they wanted to get their money out of
Australia, "using the country" for their productions, giving
little or no homage to Australian national identity.
American studios had enough worries in the 50's and early
60's after the enactment of the 1949 Paramount decrees, a
government order which required them to divest themselves of
their distribution and exhibition chains, bringing an end to
block; booking and automatic box office receipts. Essentially
there were fewer productions with more limited budgets, as the
studios adopted a more conservative attitude, restructuring
their production and distribution systems. The last studio
production to be made in Australia was Warner's The Sundowners
(1960), with American star Robert Mitchum and British actress
Deborah Kerr, which examined the lives of an itinerant sheep-
shearing family.
The Demise of the local Product in the 50's
That local films were even made and exhibited in the 50' s
is surprising in light of an indifferent, even repressive
government, heavy competition from American and British films
on Australian screens, the on-going overseas talent drain, and
the advent of television which was beginning to draw audiences
88
away from theatres. Four filmmakers however, did persevere,
each catering to a different audience: Lee Robinson and Chips
Rafferty to American audiences; Cecil Holmes to left-wing
intellectuals (within and outside Australia); Charles Chauvel
to international viewers (in Britain and America) as well as
Australian audiences.
Southern International, established in 1954 by Robinson (a
former documentary filmmaker), and actor Rafferty (star of The
Overlanders, and Eureka Stockade, and three of Southern's
Productions), faced an obstacle right away with Menzies
government anti-inflation restrictions. Under the Department
of National Development, the Capital Issues Board prohibited
the formation of public companies for specified undertakings
whose capital exceeded 10,000 pounds. This curbing directive
included a "non-essential" industry, film,94 and forced
Robinson and Rafferty to seek French investment for this second
and third productions. (The first, Phantom Stockman was made
for under 10,000 pounds). All five films made by Southern
International95 were geared for overseas "B" or low budget film
markets, using exotic locations, and focusing on "comic strip
characters" involved in a wild fantasy-adventure. For example,
in Phantom Stockman, owners of a ranch use Aboriginal
"telepathy" to catch cattle rustlers hiding out in the outback.
After the initial success of Phantom (which encouraged Robinson
and Rafferty to develop even more fantastic plots and more
colorful location), Robinson commented:
89
We were trying to do something that was different to the
American picture and the English picture, something that
was Australian within an inter-national format. Because
we didn't have the "name" artists to play with, we didn't
have top writers, we didn't have top directors, the thing
we had to try and exploit was the one thing we did have,
great backgrounds.9®
Subsequent productions, King of Coral Sea (1954, filmed in the
South Seas), and Walk into Paradise (1956, in New Guinea)
recouped their monies right away from overseas sales. However,
after Walk. Robinson and Rafferty could not depend on American
audiences anymore for their returns, as the advent of
television "eliminated the country's demand for the kind of "B"
movies Southern International had supplied."97 The producers
would have to depend on local distributors to market their
products: ultimately, and ironically, the handler was
American-owned Universal. ("locals" Rank/Greater Union and
Fox-Hoyts preferred their own English and American products).
Distribution of The Stowawav (1958) was delayed for a year, and
Dust in the Sun (1959) was released amidst poor publicity two
years after its completion. Southern International folded in
1959 after diminishing local returns. Although Rafferty
continued to act in Australian and American feature films,
Robinson eventually went in to television production.
Former documentary filmmaker Cecil Holmes had similar
difficulties with local distribution. His first film, Captain
Thunderbolt (1953), was a revival of the bushranger genre,
portraying "Thunderbolt" as a folk hero, but consistent with
Holmes leftist politics, the film presented the bushranger as a
90
victim of class oppression.98 "Thunderbolt1s chief adversary,
a prison warden turned sergeant [was] presented as something of
a ruthless colonial fascist,"99 (perhaps conjuring up the image
of Menzies himself). Thunderbolt took four years to find an
exhibitor, having been rejected by MGM, Hoyts and Greater
Union, (but it showed returns from diverse overseas screenings
in the next two years, including Canada, West Germany, and
Spain). Holmes further alienated himself from local
distributors and the anti-communist government when he set up
his own distribution company New Dawn Pictures, in late 1953,
which handled exclusively Russian cinema. (He exhibited them
through a local independent theatre).
Holme's second and final feature, Three in One (1957), was
composed of three parts, each segment focusing on, and
extolling working class values and mateship, reminiscent of
Longford's and Barrett's themes in the early 20's. (Holmes
admired the work of Italian Neo-realists and consciously used
their stylistic). Each segment of the film reflected a
traumatic or turbulent period in Australian history: union
organization years in the 1890's; the Depression in the 30's;
the alienation and loneliness of the city in the 50's.100
Holmes rejected a linear narrative for each segment, using an
episodic structure focusing on characters influenced by social
and economic forces endemic to the period. Predictably, no
distributor would handle this "serious" Australian film. The
managing director of United Artists, spoke in defense of his
91
company's decision to reject the film, his statement seemingly
on behalf of all conservative entertainment-oriented American
and British-owned handlers:
"The film [has] little box-office appeal... .Any well-
produced Australian film, employing the necessary
qualities which appeal to theatre patrons, will readily
find both distribution and exhibition outlets."101
Although screened widely in Europe, Three In One failed to
recover its production costs, and the production company was
forced to liquidate in 1959. Holmes continued his distribution
business and later returned to making documentaries and working
in television.
If Robinson/Rafferty went for lightweight adventures, and
Holmes chose a more rigorous examination of Australian society,
Charles Chauvel, in his pursuit of "world class" productions,
choose to portray Australian history on a grandiose epic scale
(as he had with Forty Thousand Horsemen and Rats of Tobruk), in
the tradition of Hollywood spectacle. His final two films,
Sons of Matthew. (1949, a saga of three generations of
Australian pioneers,) and Jedda (1955, the plight of an
Aborigine woman tom between the white society that has raised
her, and her native tribe), were lavish and expensive
productions. Chauvel hoped to combine authentic on-location
shooting (using special light-sensitive film stocks and real-
life effects, including a cyclone for Sons) with special
effects (rear projection and elaborate sets), to contribute to
his deeply nationalistic vision of Australia. Both films were
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budgeted at 120,000 pounds (three times the usual budgets at
that time), and required solid overseas returns to cover
production costs. Universal and Greater Union backed Sons,
hoping for the commercial success of Horsemen, but their hopes
were diminished when torrential rains delayed production for a
year, and boosted costs. With extensive publicity, the film
was released to enthusiastic audiences, but it took a year to
show a profit (Sons was helped by overseas sales to Britain and
the United States).
Jedda was a far bolder subject, and the first Australian
film not only to focus on Aborigines as the central protagon
ists, but to explore the underlying tensions between white
Australians and Aborigines. Jedda was produced by Chauvel
himself with help from local businessmen. (Universal refused to
provide any backing, in light of the marginal success of Sons
of Matthew). Consistent with his desire for realism, Chauvel
shot his film in technicolor (the first Australian film to use
this format), and when money was running low he even asked a
rather astonished Bob Menzies for assistance. Menzies declined,
but a persistent Chauvel eventually talked the Prime Minister
into providing fuel for Chauvel's transportation. Jedda did
well locally, but overseas returns were not sufficient to pay
all production costs or show a profit. Chauvel's company was
sold, and he was later commissioned by the British Broadcasting
Company to do a thirteen part television series on Australia.
Neo-nationalism and the Rebirth of the Industry:
Breaking away from Colonial Status
Although the demise of the local film industry seemed
imminent in the late 50's with the shutdown of Chauvel
Productions and Southern International Films, significant
changes were taking place within Australian society that
contributed to a wave of nationalism and pride in an indigenous
culture, creating a climate in which the local film industry
would be resurrected and re-established.
Australia was becoming a more affluent society in the
1950's and early 1960's, and a better educated one. The
profits from the overseas sales of natural resources filled
state and federal treasuries, making more money available for
education. The post-war Labor government had provided the
impetus for educational opportunities with its creation of a
Commonwealth Office of Education and University Commission,
which enabled funds to be appropriated to states and
universities for tertiary education. (A special scholarship
scheme even provided grants for tuition and living expenses for
bright children from low income families). Between 1946 and
1954, five new universities were created in New South Wales,
Victoria and Capitol territory (for a total of 15 in
Australia), including Sydney and Melbourne Universities and the
prestigious Australian National University in Canberra — the
latter with generous endowments earmarked for post-graduate
study and research. By 1960, one-third of high school
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graduates were going to college, and taking courses from a
variety of expanding curricula, including studies in Australian
history, economics and society.
A better educated, more enlightened society turned into a
more militant one. A generation of baby-boomers comprised a
broad segment of the population, approximately two and one-half
million (or one-seventh of the nation).102 Many of these young
adults were questioning years of Menzies economic and political
policies that had fostered American paternalism. Encouraged by
the Menzies government, American businessmen had millions of
dollars invested in Australian mining development (as well as
ownership in shares of stock in Australian companies) — a
figure which would be 300 million by 1966. As discussed pre
viously, Menzies had also signed two United States-initiated
Pacific defense pacts — Anzus and Seato. The latter was used
by the United States to request Australian military aid in the
Vietnam War in 1962. The government complied, sending in
thirty army advisors to "help train troops," but they joined in
the fighting almost immediately, although the Seato Pact
obliged Australia to do nothing more than "consult" her allies.
Clearly Australia was a foil for the United States, for as
Australian historian Russell Ward points out, the troops were
sent in for political, not military reasons, because the United
States government "wished to demonstrate to hostile world
opinion that it was not alone in its war on Vietnamese
Communism — or nationalism."103 Consequently, the Menzies
95
government escalated Australian military presence by sending in
troops during the next four years. By May 1966 (following a
December 1962 National Conscription Service Act requiring every
able male to serve a mandatory two year overseas term), 4500
servicemen were in South Vietnam, to back up and aid United
States ground troops sent in June 15, 1965 by the Johnson
administration (after the Gulf of Tonkin resolution). The
Menzies1 rationale was that the "certain" take-over of South
Vietnam would be a military threat to Australia. His policy
was consistent with United States government perspective that
North Vietnam's invasion into South Vietnam was part of a
thrust by Communist China between the Indian and Pacific
Oceans. In actuality, however, "China did not send one soldier
across its southern border to help North Vietnam, even while
one-half a million soldiers, sailors and airmen (and at least
8,000 Australian militiamen) were engaged on the Southern
side.104
Until troops were withdrawn in 1970, the country continued
to be tom by internal dissent. The more nationalistic younger
generation protested vehemently, claiming Australia did not
belong in an imperialist war initiated by the United States.
They were joined by an increasing coalition of older Labor
party affiliates, university professors, ministers from the
Anglican church, doctors, and parents of conscripts, all who
felt that an undeclared war was hardly in Australia's best
interest — "to draft young men for service and perhaps death
96
in Vietnam was wicked folly to be fought at all costs."105 The
Labor party agreed, although its Parliament representatives did
not officially oppose the war until their formal campaign
platform in the election of 1969, when protests against
conscription in Melbourne, Sydney, and Adelaide which swelled
to tens of thousands of marchers could not be ignored anymore.
The issue was no longer the vague notion of Australia's
security; the point was that the country's young men were
fighting on behalf of a United States initiated war. Menzies'
successor, Harold Holt (elected January, 1967) angered the
opposition even more by his obsequious behavior to American
President Lyndon Johnson, and his uncritical support of the
United States in Vietnam. He increased Australian troops by
2,000 men during his administration. The sixties militancy on
behalf of Australian nationalism, resisting United States
control, was working on the cultural level, that of the local
television industry.
The Role of Television— The Community Mobilizes
In 1958, the Menzies government had lifted its restriction
on "foreign" programs, and local commercial stations (two each
in Sydney and Melbourne), were permitted to purchase unlimited
quantities of American programs. This was a radical shift in
policy, because during the first two years of network
television (1956-58), the federal government, which had
jurisdiction over the air waves, had encouraged the growth of
97
stations by issuing programming licenses (there was also the
government-managed ABC Australian Broadcasting Corporation
channel.) Producer Hector Crawford, for example, had developed
several series, including the highly popular "Homicide,"
"Division 4" and "Matlock Police." Without programming
controls, however, local stations could buy American programs
cheaper than the cost of producing their own. Within two
months, local broadcasting had fallen to below forty
percent.106 This issue, the domination by American programs on
Australian networks, was a problem solely in the domain of
government control, and in 1959, the two most powerful
broadcasting unions, Actors and Announcers Equity, (founded
1952), and the Australian (Television) Film Producers
Association (founded 1956), systematically besieged the
government, lobbying for legislation on behalf of local
programming. The AFPA in particular, recognized that
television offered the first real basis for continuity in
Australian film production, and this organization was the first
to raise the issue of a government managed feature industry, a
priority in their arguments presented to Parliament.
The AFPA argued that Australia did not have an indigenous
feature film industry for three reasons (referring to
conditions that had crippled the industry since the early
teens): Australia had no protection from American competition
as there were no quotas for local films or tariffs on imported
films; local producers had no distribution guarantees from
98
local handlers; Australia did not have a national banking or
financial institution that could underwrite film productions.
AS a solution, the AFPA proposed a national film finance
corporation, a "public1 1 company (that is, government managed)
which would act as a central bank for financing features and
television film productions. They also insisted on the
immediate prohibition of foreign commercials.
Further, Actors Equity spoke on behalf of increasingly
unemployed members, claiming that "since the commencement of
television, work for actors in radio had declined by more than
that of 98 percent, and.. .no appreciable volume of work [had
been offered] in television to offset this decline."107 While
approximately 1500 "foreign dramatic actors" (that is,
American) could be viewed on Melbourne televisions in any one
week, only five Australian actors appeared in the same
period.108 The government did respond to AFPA and Actors
Equity, forbidding foreign commercials on all Australian
networks (as of January, 1961), and also dictated that within
three years, "at least 40 percent of [television stations']
hours of transmission [were to be] devoted to Australian
programs, including at least one hour each week in peak viewing
times."109
The efforts of the AFPA and Actors Equity did not go
unnoticed by the communities at large, particularly in Sydney
and Melbourne where many local film societies, several
liaisoned with filmmakers and media professors at Sydney and
99
Melbourne Universities, were educating and enlightening the
public about developments in world cinema through screenings
and discussions. The film societies had been instrumental in
launching the Sydney and Melbourne international film festivals
in 1955 and 1956 respectively, opening up the traditional
cinemas from Europe, Japan, India and Sweden. The film
societies also served to link underground and experimental
filmmakers with film buffs and educators into support groups
for the two unions. This "climate of solidarity" served to
convince the government of its need to act on the issue of
fostering Australia's own national industry. Australian film
historians Ina Bertrand and Diane Collins elaborate:
Because of the changing appreciation of film, the
government could be persuaded that film was as worthy of
assistance as opera or ballet, and community groups could
see film as entertainment to be encouraged rather that
repressed. These pressures were slowly felt with Federal
Parliament.110
Government Intervention— The Vincent Inquiry
The government held its first formal Senate debate on the
issue of television programming in August, 1960, the hearing
initiated by I liberal Senator George Hannan, from Victoria.
Since his election in 1956, Hannan had been concerned about the
content of local programming, having received volumes of
letters and phone calls about "abhorrent" American programs,
which threatened to "eradicate" Australian culture. Hannan was
"wary of bruising Austral ian-American relations and Anxious not
100
to offend the local television networks,1 1 111 but he was
determined to open up the issue of American programming, yet,
leave politics out of the hearings. He appealed to his Liberal
and Labor colleagues to collaborate and make this hearing non
partisan. In his opening statements, he proceeded cautiously,
[It is] a simple statement of fact that virtually all
films whether screened in the cinema or shown on
television's most coveted time slots originate outside
Australia, the vast bulk of them in the United States. It
is no part of my thesis that those films are necessarily
bad, or that television programs are poor... .They are
simply not Australian.11^
Hannan then asked the Senate to consider four issues: 1) the
extent to which foreign films and television were endangering
national sentiment; 2) whether a local film industry was of
national interest; 3) whether and that kind of assistance
should be given to the industry; 4) an assessment of local
markets and their potential for different types of programming,
including dramas, comedies, newscasts, and made-for-television
films.113 Although the two-day debate (in which fourteen
Senators participated) was inspired by the four-year-
performance of the television industry, much of the discussion
focused on feature film production, and the importance of film
and television "as a means of cultural expression.1,114 Even
though "ways to fortify" both industries were discussed, many
senators agreed that the encouragement of a film industry was a
more crucial issue than a television industry.115
Hannan stressed the role which a vigorous national film
industry could play in promoting Australia and its products
101
internationally, and reflected that it was odd, that a country
such as Denmark, with a population less than that of New South
Wales could produce fourteen feature films a year, and that
Japan was able to produce 500...a year. Many senators
nostalgically reflected on the "earlier more glorious history
of the Australian film industry" and on their enjoyment of the
work of such filmmakers of as Charles Chauvel.116 In general,
there was a consensus that if the industry "had succeeded once,
it could flourish again."117
After the debate, documentary filmmaker John Kingsford-
Smith, and President of the AFPA, travelled to Canberra to
discuss the recent debate with Senators Hannan and Vincent, as
well as the status of government interest in subsidizing a film
industry. Kingsford-Smith proposed a study of different types
of government assistance to film industries abroad. With
Vincent and Hannan's encouragement, he and several AFPA member
officers did extensive research in government aided industries,
including Sweden and Czechoslovakia, so the two senators would
be prepared with this information for their next inquiry,
scheduled for November, 1962.
The second inquiry, again initiated by Hannan, chaired by
Vincent (the inquiry later bore his name), and assisted by five
senators, (three Labor, and two Liberal), commenced with
Vincent's request to make it non-partisan. (The previous
inquiry had left politics out of the hearing, and Vincent felt
that more ground could be covered in a "neutral" setting). A
102
total of 139 people spoke at the hearings in Canberra and in
all state capitals, representing not only the film and
television industries, but also other professions. Speakers
included Hal Alexander from Actors Equity; Laurence Farrar,
Executive Director of the AFPA; Hector Crawford; Television
Consultant Ray Alsop; film actors Chips Rafferty and John
McCallum; director Cecil Holmes; Mervyn Murphy (head of Supreme
Films, one of the major film labs in Sydney); Eric Porter,
animator and feature filmmaker; local writers Morris West and
Olaf Ruhen, and Robert Gar lick representing the Federation of
Victorian Film Societies.
Because of Vincent's interest in television and live
theatre (he and his wife had been involved with repertory
theatre in Kalgoorlie, Western Australia, and the Senator had
produced plays for the Perth Festival110), much of the inquiry
was devoted to these subjects, and only one hearing was devoted
to film. The deleterious effect of American television on the
young was the subject of many speeches by community group
leaders and private citizens whose consensus was the following:
American television was allegedly threatening Australian
values with extinction— .Many young Australians already
preferred American drama (including American Western
heroes Matt Dillion and Wyatt Earp) to Australian
productions, accepting American values and (expressing) a
preference for American life.119
As one activist exclaimed, even Australian radio and television
announcers had pronounced American accents!120
103
Predictably, the general response from the commercial
networks to this position, as presented by A.S. Cowan, General
Manager of the Federation of Australian Commercial Television
Stations, was that Australian productions were inferior to
those from abroad,121 and therefore "quality" programs from
overseas sources were needed. Cowan was adamantly against the
idea of government "tampering" with the television industry, by
offering it any sort of aid.
On behalf of the producers, Laurence Farrar gave the most
eloquent speech, reiterating prior AFPA positions linking the
future of Australian television to the creation of a vigorous
national feature industry.122 Farrar’s subsequent description
of the problems facing the film industry echoed the hearings of
1927 and 1934, indicating that filming conditions for local
producers had changed little — "lack of financial
continuity... [for] regular film production, competition from
British and American productions.. .dumped here.. .at a fraction
of the original production costs."123 Farrar's subsequent
recommendations followed up on the initial proposal made by the
AFPA in 1959: 1) a tax on the gross earning of foreign film
producers derived from the sale of television rights in
Australia, to be calculated on five percent of the program
cost; 2) a subsequent fund (from the proceeds of the tax) for
low interest loans to film producers to be administered by a
three person board — a government nominee, a professional from
outside the film industry with executive experience, chaired by
104
an experienced film producer in overseas and local
filmmaking.124
As a result of the hearing, the Vincent Report (officially
entitled "The Report from the Select Committee on the
Encouragement of Australian Productions for Television"), was
issued several months later, in October, 1963. Overall, the
document was a bold and comprehensive set of recommendations
for reforming the administration of film and television media,
(thus going further than the other two government inquiries in
1927 and 1934). The report implied that government management
and protection was a factor in developing an indigenous
industry which had once thrived: "The country has already
demonstrated that it can make world quality films and export
them... .The only reason why it did not continue to do so is
that the industry was left unprotected and squeezed out of
business by an overseas [that is, American] industry Which was
heavily protected in its own country."125
With regard to television, the report stated that during
one month in 1961, out of the 57.8 percent of television
programs devoted to drama, only 1.16 percent was Australian
produced, clearly "pointing to the representation of an
inadequate picture of Australia, her traditions (and)
culture."126 The report concluded: [Audiences are receiving]
a "highly colored and exaggerated picture of the way of life
and morals of other countries."127 ("Other countries"
implicated but did not explicitly state the United States,
105
wording consistent with the rest of the report's cautious
allusion to American television and feature films.)
Accordingly, the Committee's recommendations for television
were an Australian drama quota, set at five percent within
three years (but the ideal figure was 50 percent),128 which
would help to reduce "unsavory programs" (which had drained
$17,000,000 from Australia's foreign exchange reserves).129
The Committee also proposed public hearings for commercial
license renewal applications, to encourage continuing
participation from industry activists.
For the feature film industry, the Committee recommended a
three point plan: 1) government aid in the form of a) loan
schemes, b) tax concessions for producers, and c) tax
initiatives for investors; 2) a government-sponsored overseas
mission to examine marketing problems facing other national
industries; 3) special government allowances to encourage and
assist visits by overseas artists.130 Whereas former inquiry
members had been reluctant to intervene in the local industry,
essentially maintaining a laissez-faire position, the Vincent
Commission had clearly taken a stand on monitoring television
networks and offering aid to the feature film industry, in a
clear demonstration of support for the production of indigenous
films.
106
Hie legacy of the Vincent Inquiry—
Film Activists and the Gorton Government
However, the Vincent Report was ignored by the government
on three separate occasions. On October 29, 1964, Prime
Minister Menzies, his cabinet and the rest of the Senate tabled
the document one day before the national elections (in which
the government was returned to power), and again in March and
April the next year, when Hannan asked the Senate to discuss
the report's recommendations. Bertrand and Collins comment:
"It did not seem that the government was prepared to state its
position, let alone take action on the recommendations.''131
Yet the Menzies government must have realized two things: this
report could embarrass it by creating waves within television
networks, heretofore courted by the Liberal government; and
that it could also jeopardize the government's relationship
with the United States, if the government were caught in the
awkward position of criticizing United States media. Menzies
certainly did not need any obstacles threatening Australia's
alliance with the United States, especially in light of mutual
defense pacts.
In addition to government indifference, there was no press
coverage of the report's publication in October, and later when
Hannan tried to resurrect it in Parliament. The reasons for
this were clear — most commercial channels indicated in this
report were owned by newspapers such as Fairfax, the Herald and
Weekly Times.132 whose managements did not want any adverse
107
publicity (especially from an ’ ’ official1 ' government sponsored
committee) about their favoring of American programs over
Australian ones. Bertrand and Collins elaborate:
Committed as they (the networks) were, to the preservation
of the political and social status quo (as was the Menzies
government), there was no incentive to pay more for local
programming when cheaper imported material was so readily
available, nor to publicize criticism of such a policy.133
The final coup came when Cabinet member, Post Master General
Alan Hulme stated that the government could not consider the
report, as the Select Committee had not been chosen by Cabinet
(The Committee had been appointed by the Senate). Unfor
tunately, the Vincent Report soon lost two of its most ardent
supporters. Senator Hannan was voted out of office in
November, 1964, and Vincent died in August of the sane year.
Since much of the impetus for the hearings were the result of
the persistence and diplomacy of these two Senators — Vincent
had even written most of the report himself — their absence
represented a significant loss of momentum for the report.
However, on record was a detailed and forceful case for
government assistance to the film industry, and the Vincent
Report very soon began to function as a visionary document,
creating a tremendous impetus within the local production
sector. Australian film historian Tom O'Reagan comments, [The
report] "endorsed drama as a significantly human, cultural and
national necessity, and acknowledged wholeheartedly that native
Australians had the creative talent to 'do drama.'134 At the
Sydney Film Festival, in June, 1964, a few months before his
108
death from cancer, an undaunted Senator Vincent urged the film
festival audience during a forum appropriately entitled, "The
Australian Film Industry: What of its Future?," to press the
government more vigorously to act on the report's proposals.
Within days, representatives from film and television unions,
literary and teachers guilds,135 made preparations for a
congress (which met early in the following year) to urge the
government to enact the recommendations of the Vincent Report.
Although their platform was ultimately ignored, their actions
represented the consolidating and mobilizing force of Vincent
and his report. For almost simultaneously with the congress
plans, the Editors's guild, appalled at the absence of the
press coverage of the document, published their own account,
entitled the "Conspiracy of Silence," alleging that the press
had ignored the report because of their links to television.
They distributed their report throughout the television and
film industry and to members of Parliament, receiving letters
of concern from the Prime Minister's department, the Federal
Treasury and the Post Master General. A few months later, in
September, the Editor's Guild was joined by Actors and
Announcers Equity, to push for specific quotas for Australian
drama during a meeting with Postmaster General Alan Holme.136
They requested an increase of Australian drama content on both
radio and television to an hour per week. Hulme may have
appeared to be sympathetic, but his comments to the House of
Representatives in November, 1964, demonstrated a condescending
attitude toward, and a total absence of confidence in the
television and film industries which he described as "lacking
in talent." Perhaps Hulme spoke on behalf of the "silent
administration" when he added,
I do not think that we have many good scriptwriters in
Australia.. .We have a few good actors in Australia. We
haven't producers and we haven't directors of high quality
at present.137
Despite this attitude, the efforts of the Editors Guild and
Actors Equity (and the Writer's Guild Which took Hulrnes to task
for his remarks), did meet with a small but significant victory
fifteen months later in June, 1966, When Parliament, under the
leadership of a new Liberal Prime Minister, Harold Holt
(replacing retiring Bob Menzies) issued a new regulation that
all television stations screen a maximum of 30 minutes of
Australian drama per week during prime time.
In Melbourne, Phillip Adams and Barry Jones teamed up to
do some politicking with the administration. Phillip Adams had
been an industry activist for a decade, an avid member of the
Melbourne Film Society, and supporter of the city's film
festival; Adams was also a journalist, writing television
criticism in the nationwide paper, The Australian, and
functioning as a columnist in The Melbourne Acre and the Sydney
Morning Herald. His friend Barry Jones had become highly
popular in 1965 when he became the country' s most celebrated
television quiz show winner on the "Pick-a-Box show," because
of his encyclopedic mind.138 Jones subsequently established
110
Australia's only talkback radio program and also initiated his
own television interview show, often entertaining guests from
the government. One of his guests in 1966 was a senator in the
Holt government, John Gorton. Gorton's air time served him
well, for when Holt died in a drowning accident in December,
1967, Gorton was subsequently chosen Prime Minister by the
Liberal caucus — partly because of his confidence and
charismatic personality from Jones's television show. (He was
also the favored candidate from both parties forming the
Liberal coalition).
Within the next three years as Prime Minister, Gorton
would provide consistent and enthusiastic leadership for the
first government legislation to foster and develop the local
film industry. Unlike his predecessors Menzies, and Holt,
Gorton was a devout Australian nationalist, and a proponent of
developing Australian-owned industries, including a local film
industry. Throughout his tenure, he advocated government
buying-back of overseas shares of Australian industries. His
centralist position put him at odds with the State governments,
private industry (used to being courted by Liberal
administrations), and his own party. Yet his egalitarian
stance made him a popular figure with the electorate, and also
with film and television guilds and unions whose members sought
him out as the champion of their cause. Adams and Jones, in
particular, "were able to persuade Gorton over a period of
time, that to establish a film industry would be a great
I l l
monument to him."139 Most significantly, they talked Gorton
into creating an Interim Film Committee (under the auspices of
the Australian Council for the Arts, — a government body
established by Holt which Gorton re-activated with new funds).
As Bertrand and Collins point out, government support for the
arts had been confined to the sponsorship and preservation of
recognized arts of record, such as literature, painting and
sculpture, but the revived ACA made a leap into the area of
performing arts.140 The Interim Film Committee had three
members, Adams, Jones, and Gorton's friend, (Liberal) Senator
Peter Coleman from New South Wales, as chairman. Gorton agreed
to send the three of them on an overseas trip to study
government funded industries abroad, including Canada, Britain,
France and Sweden.
Meanwhile in Sydney, filmmaker/activist Anthony Buckley
was lobbying the government in a different way. Buckley's
trade was editing. In film, he worked on Ken G. Hall's
Cinesound newsreel in the 1950's, and on Southern
International's The Stowaway (1958). In television, he
established an editing department at Sydney's new television
channel, Ten-10 (1950). Buckley and his friend Roland Beckett,
(director at Supreme Films) had both been active in the
Producers and Directors Guild (representing the feature film
industry since 1960), but they decided that the best way to
organize a comprehensively effective lobby, would be to
consolidate all the trade guilds and unions. The subsequent
112
Australian Film Council, formed in 1967, combined all the local
unions (Actors Equity, Musicians' Union, Writers Guild, Editors
Guild 8), as well as the organizers of the Sydney Film Festival
and the National Film Theatre of Australia. One of the Film
Council's first projects was the screening of Buckley's
compilation film, Forgotten Cinema for Parliament in 1968.
This film was essentially a nostalgic look at the earlier
Australian film industry, incorporating clips from silent and
early sound films (including the works of Franklyn Barrett,
Raymond Longford, and Ken G. Hall). After the screening,
Senator Doug McClelland (a former member of the Vincent
Committee) told the members that they should "hang their heads
in shame" for not supporting a film industry.141 Subsequently,
Prime Minister Gorton agreed to attend a dinner sponsored
jointly by the Film Council and the PDGA. At this time, "he
indicated that for the first time industry support would be
forthcoming. "142
Within several months of this occasion, In May, 1969, the
Interim Film Committee's report had been prepared, and was
presented to the Australian Arts Council. To preface its
recommendations, the report recognized and described three
categories of film and television programming it felt essential
to the development of the local industry: 1) "frankly
commercial films and television series, both to give experience
and to provide an all-important continuity of enployment; 2)
art films, which may or may not have box-office potential.. .the
113
sort of films that will gain acceptance at international
Festivals; 3) a constant flow of short experimental
films [to allow] young filmmakers to spread their
wings... [and to] broaden the vocabulary of the medium and
[focus] on those individuals with a high level of creative
potential."143
Eschewing the need for local protective quotas and
restrictive tariffs on imported films,144 the Board isolated
three areas where the government could implement a program of
"encouragement." On the top of the list was Adams' priority, a
National Film and Television School to train filmmakers.
Secondly, the Board recommended a government managed and
financed "Australian Film and Television Development
Corporation" to administrate a film and television fund (for
categories one and two above), as well as an overseas film and
television marketing board. Thirdly, "an Experimental Film and
Television Fund was urged for low budget productions, with
guaranteed television outlets."145
These recommendations were consistent with another Gorton-
sponsored activity, the prestigious Unesco National Advisory
Committee Seminar, (drawing educators, politicians, and
filmmakers) which had met several months earlier in November,
1968 — incidentally the first government sponsored film
hearing since the Vincent Inquiry, five years before. British
scriptwriter, lord Theodore Willis, who chaired the
proceedings, had urged centralized government support of a film
114
and television school (as well as government subsidies) to
encourage the growth of television and film industries.
Gorton enthusiastically supported the Interim Committee's
recommendations, which were soon endorsed by the Cabinet, The
subsequent Federal budget, announced in August, 1969,
appropriated $300,000 to be divided evenly among the
experimental film fund, an interim council to plan a film and
television school, and a program for the promotion and
distribution of experimental films (through the purchase of
television program time).146 Although the budget did not
include the third committee recommendation, — the Film and
Television Development Corporation — Gorton drew up and
introduced a separate bill in March, 1970. The bill proposed
the following:
The establishment of a corporation consisting of a
chairman and four members, all without pecuniary interests
in the film industry, to administer an initial fund of one
million dollars to be used for providing assistance in the
form of loans or guarantees to producers or direct
investment in Australian films. - 147
The "Australian Film Development Corporation" Bill was passed
by Parliament in March 1970. The resurrection of the
Australian film industry had begun.
115
Notes
-krhe six states roughly represented settlements around a
major city— New South Wales (Sydney), Victoria (Melbourne),
Queensland (Brisbane), Western Australia (Perth) South
Australia (Adelaide), Tasmania (Hobert).
2The following unions were organized as early as 1908:
Federated Iron Workers Association, Building and Construction
Workers' Federation, Australian Journalists' Association,
Federated Liquor and Allied Trades Industries Employees' Union,
Victorian Printing Operatives' Union.
3Russell Ward, The History of Australia. The Twentieth
Century (New York: Harper and Row, 1977), 126.
4Many historians claim that Soldiers of the Cross. 1900,
was Australia's first feature film, although it was not
strictly a unified narrative.
5Andrew Pike and Ross Cooper, Australian Film. 1900 -
1977. A Guide to Feature Film Production (Melbourne, Oxford
University Press, 1980), 8.
6Pike and Cooper, 4.
7Pike and Cooper, 4.
8David Cook, A History of Narrative Film (New York: W.W.
Norton and Co., 1981), 46.
9Pike and Cooper, 66.
10Pike and Cooper, 66.
1 ; 1 The theatrical firm, J.C. Williamson Co., produced Within
Our Gates. The Deeds That Won Gallipoli (1915), and the Fraser
brothers made Murphv of the Anzac (1916); both films were
independently distributed and exhibited, playing extended runs
with strong public supports, although in fewer theatres.
12John Tulloch, Australian Cinema: Industry. Narrative and
Meaning (Sydney, Allen and Unwin, 1982), 34.
13Sally Stockbridge, "Monopoly Capitalism and the
Australian Film Industry," Film Reader. Summer, 1982, 20.
14Tulloch, 152.
15Tulloch, 32.
116
16Tulloch, 16.
17Tullodh, 16.
18A movement in film history which began during World War
II, inspired by filmmakers such as Roberto Rossellini and
Vitorio de Sica, who desired to break away from Hollywood style
and genres, and depict Italian society within its economic and
political context, particularly in light of the war and its
aftermath.
19Pike and Cooper, 132.
20Pike and Cooper, 131.
21Pike and Cooper, 131.
22A genre that developed as early as the teens, with
substantial influence from D.W. Griffith. The narrative
focuses on a virtuous male or female, or couple (usually
lovers) victimized by repressive and inequitable social
circumstances, particularly those involving marriage,
occupation and the nuclear family. The often sentimental
narrative, uses strategies calculated to enhance the victim's
suffering, including long camera takes and ponderous narrative
pacing. (Thomas Schatz, Hollywood Genres [New York, Random
House, 1981], 222.)
23Pike and Cooper, 161.
24Pike and Cooper, 157.
25Brian Adams and Graham Shirley, Australian Cinema: The
First Eighty Years (Sydney: Angus and Robertson, 1980), 22.
26Pike and Cooper, 163.
27Pike and Cooper, 163.
28Pike and Cooper, 180.
29Pike and Cooper, 180.
30Tulloch, 95.
31Tulloch, 54.
32Tulloch, 54.
33Tulloch, 56.
117
34Adams and Shirley, 98.
3 Consistent with the Conservative platform, the Bruce
administration favored states' rights balanced with
Commonwealth rights. A strong centralized government (with
diminished states rights) was the policy of a Labor government.
Further, Bruce did not want to be accused of socialist
tendencies.
36Adams and Shirley, 99-100.
37Adams and Shirley, 99-100.
38Ward, 163.
39Ward, 166.
40Ward, 123.
41Adams and Shirley, 100.
4 2Adams and Shirley, 100.
4 3Adams and Shirley, 109.
44Adams and Shirley, 107.
45Adams and Shirley, 103.
46Adams and Shirley, 108.
47Adams and Shirley, 108.
48 Adams and Shirley, 123.
49Adams and Shirley, 123.
50Adams and Shirley maintain that Stevens, while premier of
New South Wales, was the film production industry's foremost
political ally during the 3 O's. All the evidence disputes this,
including the Act's weak quota laws, and government acquiescing
to threats from American and Australian distributors in 1937.
Stevens may, however, be credited with legislating for the
60,000 pounds in subsidies designated for four productions in
1938.
51Adams and Shirley, 123.
52Adams and Shirley, 124.
53Adams and Shirley, 153.
118
54Adams and Shirley, 153.
55Adams and Shirley, 133.
56Adams and Shirley, 134.
57Derived from the German style of lighting in the 20's, a
scene contains pools of light and shadow, enhancing its mood.
58Pike and Cooper, 210.
59Pike and Cooper, 210.
60Pike and Cooper, 221.
61Pike and Cooper, 220.
62Pike and Cooper, 223.
63James Monaco, How to Read a Film (New York: Oxford
University Press, 1977), 449.
64Adams and Shirley,
65Pike and Cooper, 159.
66Many American companies had built their own theatres, and
thus were no longer dependent on the Greater Union chain.
67Adams and Shirley, 166.
68Pike and Cooper, 248.
69Pike and Cooper, 248.
70Pike and Cooper, 248.
71Adams and Shirley, 168.
72Ward, 208.
73Adams and Shirley, 169.
74Pike and Cooper, 267.
75Labor Prime Minister Hughes deviated from this policy
during World War I. He was keen to involve Australia in the
war, to give Australian men a chance to "prove themselves" as
worthy soldiers in this great war adventure.
119
76The 30 percent tax had been legislated by the Scull in
ministry, 1929.
77As in Heritage. 1939.
78Pike and Cooper, 252.
79Adams and Shirley, 163.
80Pike and Cooper, 254.
81Adams and Shirley, 174.
82Adams and Shirley, 174.
83Adams and Shirley, 183.
84Adams and Shirley, 183.
85Ward, 298.
86Ward, 322.
87Ward, 322.
88Adams and Shirley, 185.
89Pike and Cooper, 299.
90Pike and Cooper, 266.
91Pike and Cooper, 289.
92Pike and Cooper, 289.
93Pike and Cooper, 298.
94Adams and Shirley, 183.
95Phantom Stockman was made under the logo Platypus Films.
96Adams and Shirley, 201.
97Adams and Shirley, 203.
98Adams and Shirley, 187.
"Adams and Shirley, 187.
100Adams and Shirley, 190.
120
101Pike and Cooper, 293.
102Adams and Shirley, 218.
103Ward, 345.
104Ward, 358.
105Ward, 363.
106Ina Bertrand and Diane Collins, Government and Film in
Australia (Sydney: Currency Press, 1981), 126.
107Bertrand and Collins, 126.
108Bertrand and Collins, 126.
109Bertrand and Collins, 120. This ruling was ignored by
television stations: however, they had to comply to a 30
minute requirement in 1966, when Holt government made it a law.
110Bertrand and Collins, 128.
li:LBertrand and Collins, 129.
112Bertrand and Collins, 129.
113Adams and Shirley, 211.
114Adams and Shirley, 221.
115Bertrand and Collins, 129.
116Bertrand and Collins, 129.
117Bertrand and Collins, 130.
118Bertrand and Collins, 141.
119Tom 0'Reagan, "Australian Filmmaking and its Public
Circulation," Film Reader. Summer, 1982, 31.
1200'Reagan, 31.
121Bertrand and Collins, 136.
122Bertrand and Collins, 133.
123Bertrand and Collins, 133.
124Bertrand and Collins, 134.
125Adams and Shirley, 212.
126Adams and Shirley, 212.
127Adams and Shirley, 212.
128Bertrand and Collins, 140.
129Bertrand and Collins, 139.
130Bertrand and Collins, 140
131Bertrand and Collins, 142.
132Bertrand and Collins, 141.
133Bertrand and Collins, 141.
1340*Reagan, 32.
135Bertrand and Collins, 142. Representatives were from
Actors Equity, AFPA, the Australian Radio, Television and
Screen Writers Gild, the Musicians Union, the Poetry Society of
Australia, the Australian Society of Authors, and the New South
Wales Teachers Federation.
136The quotas promised in 1960 had not been met.
137Adams and Shirley, 217.
138David Stratton, The Last New Wave (Sydney, Angus and
Robertson, 1980), 12.
139Stratton, 13.
140Bertrand and Collins, 146.
141Stratton, 11.
142Stratton, 11.
143Stratton, 11.
144Bertrand and Collins, 146.
145Bertrand and Collins, 146.
146Bertrand and Collins, 147.
147Bertrand and Collins, 150.
122
Chapter Three
The years 1971-75 represent the first period of government
incentives to the local industry via the major funding body,
the Australian Film Development Corporation (AFDC). Within
this period, a uniquely Australian genre, the ocker, was
introduced and developed primarily for local audiences,
representing Australia's "knocking" and resistance to its
traditional mentor, Imperial Britain. This Irtperial/Colonial
dynamic was also the major thematic of the films produced in
the later years of the corporation period, 1973-75: "quality"
films, geared for international audiences (particularly film
festivals) with less emphasis on commercial elements which had
been the major goal of the Corporation's first films. This
shift came about largely because of the election of a strongly
nationalistic government (December, 1972), which favored a
bold, yet representable image of Australia abroad.
This chapter will examine the nature of ideology inscribed
within the AFDC period films, as well as the role of the
financing institutions in shaping the product in the greater
123
context of Australia's historical alignments with Britain, as
well as the United States.
According to the AFDC Bill, corporation members were not
to have any "pecuniary interest in the film industry," which
meant that no member could be an owner or employee of a film or
television production, distribution or exhibition company.
Labor members in the House and Senate, though in favor of the
bill, thought it "peculiar to exclude from the corporation the
best qualified and most experienced people from the film
industry.1 Gorton and his Cabinet (who chose the organization's
members), gave the members complete independence from
government influence. None of the six had any prior experience
in feature film production (either in financing or creative
decisions): Chairman John Darling and Ronald Elliot were
private merchant bankers; Talbot Duckmanton and Denys Brown
were government public servants, Duckmanton general manager of
the Australian Broadcasting Corporation, and Brown the head of
the Commonwealth Film Unit (which produced documentaries);
Executive Tam Stacey was head of Supreme Films, which produced
television commercials; Barry Jones, film activist, only had
experience in investigating other government run film
industries (having served on overseas visitation committee of
the Interim Board in 1969). The AFDC then, was made up of
businessmen and administrators with expertise only in managing
money and companies.
124
The AFDC Bill gave the corporation full authority not only
to select projects for funding, but to determine the amount of
monies allocated for each film. The only criteria were that
the project contain "significant Australian content, and the
film be made Wholly or substantially in Australia."2 For the
first year, (June 30, 1970 - June 30, 1971) the government
placed one million dollars in the fund, "to be topped annually"
(and approximately one million was added each year). The board
members equated the building of a healthy film industry with
commercial viability and assistance from the private sector,
their goal that the corporation be fully self-supporting within
two years.3 John Darling announced in March, 1971, the month
the AFDC started operation:
The corporation will be commercially oriented. We have to
create the conditions for the industry to grow, and for
investors to invest with confidence.4
This position was reiterated in the first annual report, issued
June, 1971: "Before the corporation can lend its support to a
project, it must be satisfied that the project has a good
chance of economic success.5
Gorton Leaves Office
Ironically, in March, 1971, the month that the AFDC began
to operate, Prime Minister John Gorton, who had done so much to
lay the groundwork for the Australian film industry was voted
from office after three years. During his term, Gorton had a
record of being at odds with his own Liberal party, for his
125
centralist position was contrary to his party's policy which
Gorton also made a foreign blunder in the eyes of his
party in May, 1970 when he proposed to detente between
Australia and Russia. Because Britain had announced naval
withdrawal from the Indian Ocean by the end of 1971, Gorton
reasoned that Australia, soon to be on its own, could use a new
ally as a counterbalance to communist China, hence his reason
for wishing to open up diplomatic relations with Russia. The
idea was anathema to the party, for Liberal policy had
maintained a fervid anti-Russian sentiment since 1949. Gorton
was eventually forced to retract his proposal, and in a quickly
assembled assembly speech he reversed his policy, speaking out
against the Russian menace.
The incident that culminated his estrangement from his
party and precipitated his dismissal was a public quarrel
between the Minister for the Defense, Malcolm Fraser, and Chief
of Army General Staff, Sir Thomas Daly, over the level of
Australian troops in Vietnam. Fraser was in favor of pulling
out remaining troops (since his election, Gorton reduced troops
by half), and Daly was in favor of escalation, accusing Fraser
of disloyalty to the Army.7 Hearing of the altercation, Gorton
sent for Daly without consulting Fraser, issuing a formal
denial of the story "in such a way to leave an impression that
Fraser had acted wrongly."8 Fraser resigned from Cabinet, not
only to express his outrage over the incident and Gorton's
favored private enterprise and championed states rights.6
126
mishandling of it, but also to bring the Liberal party together
in opposition to Gorton, who in Fraser's words had a record of
"unreasoned drive to get his own way, through obstinacy,
impetuous and emotional reactions, [having] imposed strains
upon the Liberal Party, the Government and the public
servants.9 He concluded,
I do not believe he is fit to hold the great office of
Prime Minister, and I cannot serve in his Government.10
Fraser's stance was part of his strategy for forwarding his own
career, including his aspirations for Prime Minister (which he
would successfully achieve in 1975). After his resignation,
Fraser moved for a motion of no confidence in the government
(meaning that a polling among parliament members was necessary
to retain or remove Gorton from office). The vote proved to be
deadlocked, 33:33, and Gorton, doing the "honorable thing" in
light of diminishing confidence from his party, cast the
deciding vote, and removed himself from office.
With this move, the film industry lost its most energetic
and effective supporter (although Gorton "from a back bench" in
the House continued to urge Cabinet to support the industry).
The new Liberal Prime Minister, William McMahon, elected by the
Liberal caucus, did not regard the film industry as a priority
in his administration. Further, his minister for the Arts,
Peter Howson, was determined to prevent the inauguration of the
Film School and the AFDC, declaring that funds were not
available. (Phillip Adams suggested that Howson's attitude was
127
based on a grudge against Gorton who had removed him earlier
from his ministry).12 Adams subsequently resigned from his
post on the Interim Film Committee on the ABC news program
"This Day Tonight" amidst the protests of filmmakers and
critics who besieged Parliament. An open letter to the Prime
Minister was published in several papers with a thousand
signatures from students and activists. McMahon, however
finally did intervene, and assured Adams that the AFDC, the
Experimental Film and Television Fund would proceed on
schedule. The Film School, still in the planning stages under
an Interium Council, with no facilities, staff or students, was
delayed however, with Howson declaring that the "cost was more
than the government could accommodate in these straitened
times.13 Not until June, 1973 after Whitlam took office, was
the school "resurrected" and established.
However, government funding was available in April, 1971,
and the two seminal ocker films, Stork, and The Adventures of
Barry McKenzie were in pro-duction. Before examining these
films, it is necessary to define the term ocker in its cultural
context.
The Ocker Tradition
i
i
The term ocker, unique to Australian culture, was coined
at the turn of the century, and derived from "knocker" an
Australian colloquialism for a male (usually working class) who
knocks or criticizes everybody and everything: he is a
128
constant disparager.14 A "knocker" sounded like "an Ocker" and
the latter term persevered. Ocker fell out of wide usage until
the 60's when it was resurrected to refer to television
personalities "larrikans" Paul Hogan'l5 John Singleton
(featured in beer commercials), and humorist Barry Humphries
(who created the concept for the Barry McKenzie cartoon strip).
Linguist John B. Gadson describes the television ocker:
(He) drinks regularly with his mates at his favorite pub
after a hard day's yakka (work), and has few, but highly
self-centered interests. He tends to disparage what he
has not, what he cannot have. He is Master Sour-Grapes of
classical vintage. He 'knocks' almost everything with an
accomplished inverted snobbery.
Historian/sociologist Harry Qxley comments on ocker tastes:
(the ocker is) a self-satisfied vulgarian, a conceited
braggart, uncouth in behavior and thought, a loudmouth
obsessed by his own plastic masculinity.1'
And Pike and Cooper contextualize the ocker in light of
Stork and Barry McKenzie:
— anti-intellectual, xenophobic, obsessed with beer and
sex, but never capable of relating positively to women,
preferring the company of his "mates"18
Although Pike and Cooper have linked the 70's ocker genre
to distant larrikan cousins in slapstick comedies Sentimental
Block (1919), and On Our Selection (1932), a much closer
"relation" is found in the 1971 film Wake in Fright (released
overseas as Outback), the first ocker film released in
Australia in the 70's. However, the film (based on a novel by
Australian writer, Kenneth Cook) was not financed by the AFDC,
but by private Australia and American television companies —
129
NUT Productions and Group W Cable Corporation, directed by
Canadian Ted Kotcheff and scripted by Evan Jones (Canadian
also).
Their portrayal differs radically from the sentimental
pictures out outback life depicted in early Australian films
where mateship and easy hospitality were positive attributes.
The film, which follows the book closely, focuses on a young
school teacher, John Grant (played by British actor Gary Bond),
I
! on holiday from a remote outback grade school, whose vacation
in Sydney with his girlfriend never materializes, for he
gambles away all his money (as well as his plane ticket), and
is essentially stranded for several weeks in a desolate mining
town. Though he is initially repelled by the ocker characters
he meets, he soon assumes their behavior and lifestyle,
including all-day drinking binges climaxed by night-time
kangaroo hunts. With his mates Jack (played by Australian
actor Jack Thompson, in his film debut, who replayed his ocker
role in Petersen, discussed later) and the alcoholic Doc Tydon
(played by British actor Donald Pleasance). Grant thunders
across the outback in a convertible with a huge spotlight
mounted on the roof. With their high-powered rifles, Jack and
Doc wound the animals, encouraging John to "prove his manhood"
by wrestling with the kangaroo, then killing it by slitting its
i throat with a knife. One morning Grant wakes up on the floor of
i Doc's cabin in the arms of Doc himself, who may have initiated
a sexual encounter. Still drunk, and disgusted, Grant tries to
130
commit suicide, but only wounds himself in his head with his
rifle. He recovers in a hospital, and returns rather somberly
to face the new school year.
Kotchef f * s bold and savage portrayal of male-dominated
life in the outback was received enthusiastically at the Cannes
Film Festival in May, 1971 (where the film opened).19 However,
Australian audiences were not as eager to see the film, and it
did only mediocre business. Wake in Fright was, perhaps, too
critical of the "hearty, over-hospitable, hard-drinking
mateship ethos still dear to the hearts of many Australians"
and, as David Stratton has pointed out, audiences may also have
felt uncomfortable with homosexual themes, resisting the
suggestion that such male bonding was at the base of rugged
Australian outback life."20 A further problem was the film's
distributor, American-owned company. United Artists (which also
held world releasing rights), which had never distributed an
Australian film in Australia before. Their publicity campaign
was, according to Australian executive producer of Wake. Bill
Harmon, prepared (in New York) without any special
consideration for Australian audiences, and perhaps reflected
UA's lack of expertise and initiative with a "foreign" film.
Wake in Fright, though not popular with Australian
audiences, did "tap" the ocker phenomenon in Australian
society, and the ocker films that followed (financed by the
AFDC and private companies) still maintained the boozing macho
aggressors (as in Petersen), or the naughty rascals (in Stork
131
and Adventures of Barry McKenzie and its sequel), eliminating,
however, any suggestion of homosexuality, thus making the ocker
imaginary "pure" and undeniably masculine and easily accessible
for male audiences in Australia (the prime target of ocker
films).
2,000 Weeks
By the time Wake in Fright and Walkabout had been screened
to Cannes' audiences, Tim Burstall had already shot his second
feature, Stork, the first ocker film as well as the first film
to be funded by the Experimental Film and Television Fund (a
more "modest" body with the AFDC's commercial aims, essentially
geared for inexperienced filmmakers trying an original
approach, technique or subject) ,21 Burstall was no novice
filmmaker, he had directed several short children's films and
two documentaries (and owned his own production company, Eltham
Films), but had been burned by unreceptive audiences with his
first feature 2.000 Weeks (1968), which will be discussed
briefly as its reception explains Burstall's shift into ocker
comedies.
2.000 Weeks was a semi-autobiographical account of a young
journalist (Will) who is tom between leaving for a more
challenging and receptive climate in England, or remaining in
the "cultural wasteland of Australia."22 He ultimately chooses
to remain in native Australia with a commitment to forge a
worthwhile career there. Throughout the film, Will is
132
frequently compared to his friend, Noel, who has gone overseas
to England and become a successful television writer and
programmer, a theme reflecting the actual situation in the
1950's and 1960's in Australia (as discussed in chapter 2), for
little or no work in film or television was available. The
film also foregrounds the lingering Australian sense of
cultural cringe23 to Mother England, for Noel rejects Will as
his future partner in England, arguing that Will is not "good
enough" to write in England.
In making 2.000 Weeks. Burstall had wanted to give
audiences a 100 percent Australian production (including cast,
crew and financing — the film was backed by three local
companies, for $98,000) that focused on "serious" themes
inherent in Australian society. He even talked a major
distributor, Columbia, into releasing the film in Melbourne in
April, 1969, with much publicity about this "new Australian
film." Unfortunately for Burstall, the film did not appeal at
all to local audiences in Melbourne, or when it opened at the
Sydney Film Festival shortly thereafter. It was also
slaughtered by influential Melbourne film critic Colin Bennett,
who dismissed the film as "boring, cliched and disappointingly
banal."
Admittedly, 2.000 Weeks is a complex and challenging
film, cutting freely from present to past, Will's relationship
with his father is intercut with scenes examining Will's two
loves, who represent his attraction to England and Australia:
133
his girlfriend Jackie, who has decided, like Noel, to relocate
in England, and his wife Sarah, who is content to live in
Australia and raise their two children. Perhaps audiences,
attracted by the Australian billing of 2.000 Weeks, had
expected a film similar to the comedy runaway his, They*re a
Weird Mod (1967, British financed, directed by British
filmmaker Michael Powell),24 which had explored the light
hearted adventures of an Italian immigrant in Australia, who is
eventually integrated into its society. ( Mob was the first film
about Australia to appeal to local audiences since the
Cinesound films of the 30's.) While Mob affectionately makes
fun of, yet extols Australians, 2.000 Weeks rigorously
questions the country's cultural worth, an issue audiences
were clearly not ready to face.
At the time of the film's release, Burstall singled out
local critics as "effete intellectuals" who had turned on him
in his hour of need.25 A few years later, he admitted that he
should have made a film geared solely for the home market, on
the assumption that costs could be recovered in that market
alone.25
There's nothing like losing a lot of money to make you
conscious of commercial considerations. After 2.000 Weeks.
I obviously had to re-think my relationship to the
Australian audience.27
After the failure of 2.000 Weeks. Burstall shifted to more
commercial fare. To reach local audiences meant entertaining
them (and not preaching to them). Hence his new slogan, "I'd
rather be frivolous than boring," and his choice for his next
project, Stork, based on the popular play that had recently run
successfully in the Carlton suburb of Melbourne (in La Mama
Theatre, owned and run by Burstall's wife, Betty). Aided with
a $7,000 grant from the Experimental Film and Television Fund,
Burstall raised some of the money himself, and the rest from
friends David Bilcock and Robin Copping, (investors in 2.000
Weeks). to make up the budget of $60,000. Burstall hired David
Williamson to rework his two and one-half hour play, "The
Coming of Stork" to focus on several days in the life of the
young revolutionary in his early twenties, (so named because of
his 6'7" height,) who gleefully attacks sacred Australian
institutions, far surpassing Paul Hogan's shenanigans against
"high culture" on television, and establishing new precedents
for on screen ocker behavior.
Stork doesn't simply quit his job as a draftsman at the
Holden Car Company (to show his disapproval of the manufacturer
of vehicles that pollute the environment), he does a strip
tease in front of a horrified management, then "flips them
off." His roommate, Tony, an art critic, tries to help Stork
find a new job and introduces him to the museum curator, whom
Stork shocks when he switches the subject to his person
childhood problems, saying "I couldn't move me bowels until I
was five." His other roommate, Clyde, a business executive,
hopes Stork will impress his boss at lunch, but Stork
"entertains" the gathering by jamming a large oyster up his
135
nose. As his last disruptive gesture, Stork descends upon the
wedding of his roommate, Clyde, on a fire truck, drenching the
wedding party with a huge firehose, then jumping in back of the
wedding car to ride off with the bride and groom.
Through Stork, the film presents anti-establishment themes
embraced by young people in the sixties, particularly in
Carlton (the Berkeley of Australia), as they questioned the
conservative attitudes and materialistic policies of the
Menzies administration.28 Stork provides a likable and recog
nizable character for audience identification (particularly in
the 18-30 year old range) through a disruptive rebel.
Burstall marketed Stork without mentioning anywhere that
it was Australian: research conducted after a test screening
of the film had indicated that audiences "did not trust"
Australian films. Hence no Australian names (including David
Williamson, Burstall or Bruce Spence, who played Stork) we
placed in advertisements. The film was marketed as a bawdy
comedy with the tagline, "There's a bit of Stork in all of vis."
The film's official debut was held in the Melbourne beach
suburb of St. Kilda on December 27, 1971 in the independent
Palais Theatre (the home of the Melbourne Film Festival),
which Burstall had hired himself (such a practice is known as
'four walling') without the services of a distributor, in order
to save high distribution costs, which could be 50-90 percent
of box office receipts. Stork was an instant hit with
Melbourne audiences, and in six weeks netted $20,000. A month
136
later, Burstall opened it in three other independent theatres,
and the film maintained its popularity, grossing $150,000 in
several weeks. With his production costs paid, and the film
going into profit, Burstall sold the film to distributors
Roadshow, who blew it up to 35 mm (standard theatre feature
format), and booked it in several theatres in the Sydney suburb
of Mosman for a successful run of several months. Ultimately,
the film netted $250,000 for producers Bilcock and Copping and
$750,000 for Burstall himself. Stork then, became the first
wholly Australian financed box office success since the 30's,
and Burstall proved that local audiences could eagerly accept a
local production through the vehicle of the ocker imaginary.
With the proceeds, Burstall was able to establish his own
production house, Hexagon Films.
Stork was endorsed by Australia's major film culture
institution, the Australian Film Institute, which gave the film
several major awards in 1972: a $5,000 prize (donated by the
AFDC) for the best narrative feature; $1,000 to Burstall for
best direction; and recognition to Bruce Spence for best actor.
The AFI was a nation-wide organization membership made up of
active members of the film community including film buffs,
critics, teachers of film, filmmakers, film festival members.
At the time, the AFI favored films that were unconventional and
innovative in some way, presenting heretofore unexplored themes
inherent in Australian culture; in the case of Stork a film
subject to Australian audiences had been sanctioned. AFI
137
provided a strong incentive Burstall and others to pursue
Australian themes in feature films geared for local audiences,
H .
particularly through the ocker.
The Adventures of Barry McKenzie
The enormous success of Stork spurred on the development
of another ocker comedy, The Adventures of Barry McKenzie.
’ which was the result of a collaboration among producer Phillip
Adams, his friend and screenplay co-writer, Barry Humphries,
(who had conceived the "Aussie in Fammieland" idea as a
cartoon, which was published in the British satirical magazine,
Private Eve), and director co-writer Bruce Beresford, who had
met Adams in London when he was on the fact finding trip for
the Film and Television Board in 1969. A former film student
at the University of Sydney, Beresford had gone to work in
London in 1962 and became head of film production at the
British Film Institute. Adams introduced Humphries and
Beresford, and while they were working on the screenplay, he
talked Tom Stacey at the AFDC into footing the whole budget for
the film, $250,000, which was the corporations's first major
investment in a feature film. In light of the ready acceptance
by local audiences of the ocker Stork, Adams was convinced that
the time was right for the (film version) of Barry McKenzie,
provided the film was "course, crude and vigorous enough.29
Adams had profited well before with a deliberately lewd
film, The Naked Bunvlp. (1969), which he had co-produced and
directed with John B. Murray (film activist and President of
the Victorian Branch of the Producers and Directors Guild).
Bunyip was made in the wake of the failure of 2.000 Weeks, and
Adams and Murray felt that a light-hearted sex documentary
would win support for a locally produced feature."30 Naked
Bunvio focused on a shy and introverted young nan (played by
stage actor Graham Blundell, who would later repeat the same
role in Burstall*s Alvin Purple) who is selected by an
advertising agency to conduct a survey of sexual activities in
Australia. The film consists mainly of unrehearsed and
unscripted interviews with real life prostitutes, gang members,
female impersonators, gays, and strippers, as well as doctors,
academics and moral guardian groups. Bunvip depicted a wide
range of real-life sexual behavior, and Commonwealth censors
demanded that five minutes of the film be deleted. At one
screening, Adams and Murray merely blacked out the "offending
images" and "bleeped" the sound track. On the dark footage, a
caricature of a bunyip3- * - appeared performing a parody of the
forbidden action. At another screening, Murray projected the
original cut without deleting any footage at all. Because both
men persisted with screening their own versions (which they
distributed themselves) their differences with the censors
generated a great deal of publicity about the outdated and
restrictive censorship laws (similar to the 1932 Hays Code in
the United States), which pro-hibited any form of male or
female nudity, profanity, violence, sexually suggestive scenes
139
or scenes with any sexual activity. Adams and Murray's
perseverance contributed to government moves to relax film
censorship and issue a revised code (implemented in December,
1971, just in time for Stork). Further, Adam's and Murray's
successful handling of the film themselves (by doing so they
netted approximately $300,000), set an example for other
producers to distribute directly — Burstall with Stork.
Michael Thornhill with Between Wars (1974, discussed later in
this chapter).
As conceived by Humphries and Beresford, The Adventures of
Barry McKenzie would not satirize the Australian establishment
(as in Stork) but the British themselves, as seen "through the
eyes of a colonial," Barry McKenzie on a visit from Australia
to the motherland. The film focuses on Barry (played by
Australian folk singer Barry Crocker) who is accompanied by his
Aunt Edna (played by Humphries himself) on holiday in England
where they meet a variety of unsavory British types: a greedy
taxi driver who takes Barry and Edna from the Heathrow airport
to London by way of Lourdes and Scotland to get a high far;
decadent aristocracy — one of Edna's friends is married to an
avuncular masochist, who begs Barry to cane him because "he has
been a bad boy"; a variety of poofters (homosexuals) who sashay
about the bar that Barry and his Australian friends hang out;
two-timing nymphets, including "Caroline Thighs" who invites
Barry and her boyfriend to her flat (Barry is thrown out just
as he is about to bed Caroline). In contrast to the British,
140
Barry is "normal," a heterosexual, and in the eyes of his aunt,
a good boy. But Barry's crude language and deeds far surpass
that of Stork. He uses a stream of phallic references — "his
one-eyed trouser snake;" "Percy the python," and his term for
urinating is "shaking hands with my wife's best friend." To
improve his sexual prowess with Caroline, he dumps a can of
Indian Curry down his drawers (because English girls "like it
hot"); he "flashes his nasty" on national television (though
the spectator views this act from behind a bare-bottomed
Barry), and throws up at will on the head of any suspecting
victim (the spectator does see the "thunder"). Often his
crassness is enhanced by his ingenuity: when a studio fire
breaks out, Barry's idea is to open a case of Foster's Lager
(the Australian King of Beers), and encourage his Australian
mates to chug it as quickly as they can, and then put out the
fire by urinating on the flames. In spite of his crassness (or
because of it), Barry achieves the status of star. He is cast
in a cigarette commercial (the casting director admires his
rugged looks and drinking ability), and after his fire dousing
trick, he is offered a job acting on a BBC program. The cocky,
brash and clever Australian ocker has achieved superiority over
the simple, dimwitted English.
Adventures of Barry McKenzie had a rather shaky first
screening. Adams arranged a special affair at Beresford's alma
mater, Sydney University, hoping that Roadshow distributors
(whose management was in attendance) would pick it up. After
141
the screening, Alan Finney of Roadshow shook his head as he
left saying, "Bum it!"32 Undaunted, Adams decided to
distribute the film himself (to ensure that it was handled with
maximum enthusiasm, and to avoid distribution costs as he had
with Bunyip). The British-Austral ian dynamic was marketed
"assiduously" as the film played up the "shameless saga of a
young Aussie in pommieland."33 The film premiered at the
independent Ascot Theatre in Sydney in October, 1972, for an
eight week engagement and simultaneously at the independent
Capital Theatre in Melbourne- Critics loathed Adventures. No
one was prepared to say a kind word for the film that
advertised itself as being "full as boot colour (full of shit)
and chunderama." Bruce Beresford (who went on to became one of
Australia's most acclaimed directors in the 1970's and 1980's),
was shaken by critical response and thought he had made a
grave error in directing the film, which would permanently
damage his career.
But audiences went wild at the screenings in both cities
night after night, as mostly males mimicked "Bazza's" behavior
in rowdy celebrations before and after the screenings."34
There are no statistics available on the audiences who watched
the film, but every historian and critic who has wnritten on the
film remarks that he or she sat in the company of mostly men.
Because of the popularity of Adventures. Adams was able to
repay the $250,000 investment within three months of the film's
opening, and Adventures went on to become one of the top
142
grossing films of the decade. later, Adams sold the film to
Roadshow distributors, which, released it in the rest of the
country. The AFDC was quite proud of the film's success, not
only because its investment was paid back, but also because it
had its hand in a major box office hit. In its 1973-74 Annual
Report, the corporation lauded the success of Adventures in
Australian theatres, and a year later, cited Adventures as an
example of a film that was continuing to earn profits.35 For
the record, during pre-production, Stacey very reluctantly
stood by his contract with producer Adams, warning the
filmmakers not to put "all those terrible colloquialisms" into
the film.36
The success of Adventures of Barrv McKenzie not only
helped to keep the AFDC solvent, but it perpetrated the ocker
ideal which found broad acceptance among male audiences. The
film added a new and significant twist to the ocker theme, —
the Australian meets the British — which would be examined
further in the subsequent films, the Barry McKenzie sequel,
Barry McKenzie Holds His Own (1973) and Burstall*s Peterson
(1974) .
Prelude to the Tariff Board Inquiry
In September, 1972 (just a few weeks before the premiere
of Barrv McKenzie), a government inquiry into local
distribution and exhibition practices was under way by the
Tariff Board (to take place in Sydney, Melbourne and Canberra)
143
under the auspices of the Ministry for Trade and Industry.
Though government legislation was in place to provide subsidies
and loans for the production of local films, the government had
not resolved the issues of local quotas for distributors and
exhibitors, or taxes and tariffs on (American) film and
television Imports, which continued to dominate Australian
screens and television. The Interum Film and Television Board
in May 1969 had laid these issues aside in their recommenda
tions for film incentives, urging a government authority to
examine them as soon as possible. Essentially the federal
government had no guidelines or laws for distributors and
exhibitors: only the state of New South Wales did, and its 40-
year-old quota act, which stated that 2 1/2 percent of all
feature films screened must be Australian was only
intermittently enforced. Furthermore, since the end of World
War II, tariffs and taxes on imported films (namely American
and British) had been suspended and the latest statistics
released in March, 1970 by the Minister for Trade, demonstrated
that millions of untaxed Australian dollars were leaving the
country — of the 9.6 million dollars paid at the box office
by audiences in the financial year 1968-69, $100,000 went to
Britain and 9.5 million to the United States.37 In light of
the overseas drain of capital and continuing competition from
British and American films, (which was all but extinguishing
any interest in the local product), the Board’s objectives were
to find ways to encourage the distribution and exhibition of
144
Australian films locally (and even overseas). Further, as
personally requested by Prime Minister McMahon, the performance
of the first years of the Australian Film Development
Corporation was to be evaluated.
Since April, 1971, the AFDC and the Experimental Film and
Television Fund had each provided whole or partial funding for
four films each, solving producer's financing problems. But
producers faced another problem — acquiring distribution and
screening facilities. At the time, distribution and exhibition
were dominated by three major chains. Hoyts (controlled by
American company Twentieth - Century Fox since 1930) had shown
no interest in handling the local product, and the Greater
Union Organization (controlled by the British Company, Rank
Film Organization, since 1947) handled only two films (through
its distribution arm, BEF), and these with very limited
releases — each film was screened in one theatre in one city
for one-two weeks). Village Roadshow,38 the "Australian" owned
chain (two thirds owned by private Australian interests, the
remaining one-third by Greater Union) had handled three
films,39, including Stork and The Adventures of Barrv McKenzie,
the latter two with extravagant marketing campaigns and wide
releases (but only after they had proven their commercial
potential through direct distribution by the producers).
Turned away by the majors, producers had few alternatives,
including local film festivals, independent exhibitors, co
ops40 or licensed halls. All these facilities reached small
145
audiences. The fact was that many of these early government
funded films needed specialized publicity and market
strategies, unique to the film's style and themes, which the
majors were not willing to give them. Six films were made with
very modest budgets (as low as $30,000) in 16 mm. format, in
black and white (vs. more expensive standard theatre format, 35
mm and color), by first time directors, interested in
experimenting with an innovative style or an unexplored
Australian theme, eschewing commercial content.
For example, The Office Picnic (1972), the directing
debut of cinematographer, Tom Cowan, and made with a $30,000
grant from the Experimental Film and Television Fund, examined
the sexual dynamics of a public service office staff, away from
the inhibited and claustrophobic atmosphere of the office.
Ocker stud Clyde, has a wager with his mates that he can seduce
the voluptuous typist Mara, yet at the picnic he drinks too
much and almost passes out on her. To prove his sexual
prowess, he later forces himself on Mara, who is disgusted, yet
passive, and the encounter leaves both of them embarrassed and
even more estranged.
In another part of the film, a messenger boy named Peter
strikes up a conversation with a timid receptionist, named
Elly, yet their mutual attraction enables them to forget the
office boundaries that separate them. They take a swim and
wander into the bush, hand in hand, starry-eyed, while the rest
of the staff laughs at them. Pete and Elly disappear and are
146
never found (they have probably drowned), but the next day, the
office staff is back at the job, business as usual, Clyde and
Mara ignoring each other, and Pete's and Elly's positions
filled as if they were never there. Cowan's film was a
sensitive examination of the gaps between males and females in
modem Australian society (and a bit more human than the
"cartoon characters" in Barry McKenzie). yet few people saw
the film. All the majors refused to handle it, and Office
Picnic only had a "sneak preview" one night at an independent
theatre (Hie Track Cinema) in Melbourne, and popped up two
years later at a midnight screening at a theatre owned by Hoyts
(this arranged by Cowan himself).
Stockade (1971) had similar problems with distribution,
but was also the victim of censoring by the local state
government. It was the first film to be funded by the AFDC —
which gave director Hans Pomerantz $16,000, matched by $15,000
from Australia Council.41 Based on a popular musical play
(written by Wake in Fright author, Kenneth Cook), the film
focused on an 1854 miner's rebellion against government
regulation of the Eureka Gold Mine. Stockade is significant in
that it was one of the first films during the AFDC period to
examine an actual event from Australia's history*42 The
narrative is an unvarnished, documentary-like (shot in grainy
black and white) examination of laborers who strike for better
working conditions and higher wages for back-breaking work,
going up against an inflexible management. Conservative member
147
of the New South Wales Parliament, Dudley Erwin singled out two
brothel scenes from the films, accusing the directors of
including "immoral content," also deploring the "use of federal
money to produce such a film."43 Undaunted, Pomerantz
submitted the film to the three majors and they all turned him
down. He then publicly accused the state government of not
enforcing its quota law, a situation which forced Pomerantz to
book the film himself in an unlicensed hall. Ironically, the
government then issued a written prohibitive notice, forbidding
Pomerantz to screen his film in the hall (citing a fire hazard
as their reason). Though Pomerantz issued a formal request to
Chief Secretary of State Eric Willis, to inquire into the state
industry, nothing was done by the state. The film had only one
preview (on the 117th anniversary of the Stockade incident),
and Cook and Pomerantz distributed the film themselves through
an independent suburban theatre in Sydney. Stockade did fair
business, a fact that was jumped on by the majors, who argued
that if the film had been any good, they would have been eager
to distribute it.46
The Tariff Board Inquiry
Filmmakers were regarding the agenda of the Inquiry rather
cynically, since the government had a record of either allowing
the trade to continue unimpeded with their practices (as in the
aftermath of the 1927 and 1934 inquiries), or ignoring
148
altogether the recommendations of a Senate Hearing (as it had
done with the Vincent Report).
Board recommendations might ultimately favor trade, or
they might be pigeonholed.45 Adding to the filmmakers'
pessimism was the attitude of the current government. McMahon
and his Cabinet did not have a record of support for the film
industry, and Minister for the Arts, Peter Howson had almost
sabotaged the AFDC, postponing the opening of the film school.
Accordingly, industry analyst John Pinkney, as if speaking on
behalf of the "producers' block" prophesized in the Melbourne
Acre:
The conclusions of the Inquiry (will) undoubtably be
that too many foreign films (i.e. from the United States
and Britain) are imported into Australia, to the
indigenous producer's detriment, and that its role [will]
be to fiddle, Nero-like, with well-known facts, while
impatient filmmakers bum.46
However, in the producer's favor was the fact the Tariff
Board Hearing was a government sanctioned activity; thus, there
would be no confusion as there had been after the publication
of the Vincent Report when Cabinet had decided that it could
not consider the "unofficial" report because the Senate
hearing was not "government appointed." And, in the wake of
its $1.5 million production investments during the last year,
the government was on the line to take some action to help the
local product get into theatres. To make sure that the
government did hear from production sectors, filmmakers were in
full force at the hearing; out of approximately 100 represent-
L
149
atives, about two-thirds were film activists or from film
production.
Underlying all filmmaker submissions was the reality that
two major distribution/exhibition chains were overseas-owned,
and that Australian films were "disadvantaged” because the
majors only handled their own product and the products of
their associates (Greater Union also handled the films from
Paramount, Universal, MGM, Warners and from England, those from
Lion's International and Anglo-EMI; Hoyts, films from
Columbia, and United Artists.) All the films from these
companies arrived with a publicity campaign and marketing plan
based on overseas reception. Hoyts and Greater Union had a
record of resisting a first-release local film never shown
abroad. One of the most out-spoken critics of the practices of
the majors, was producer/director Tim Burstall who compared
Australian film to a single barrel of oil offered to a
processor who has regular and substantial flow already
guaranteed from another source.47 He further added that
distributors were not willing to assess a local film's
potential or take into account its unique problems in getting
launched locally.48
In fact, as the Board later wrote in its report, the role
of distributors in Australia was merely that of a "forwarding
agency" for overseas films, whereas in the United States and
Britain, distributors would not only provide "up front" moneys
for production expenses, but also handle promotion, publicity
150
and secure the best exhibition sites*49 Rarely were these
responsibilities taken on by distributors in Australia. As
Phillip Adams argued, it was to the producer's advantage to
handle the distribution himself (and secure financial control),
and he "advised other producers to avoid having their product
handled by Greater Union and Hoyts [which were without] the
inclination to handle them properly.50 As the Board reported
later, distributors could take as much as 90 percent of box-
office receipts. (Adams had pocketed about 75 percent of the
proceeds from Barry McKenzie.)
Paul Witzek, producer of five surfing features, argued
that the marketing of his films had been infinitely more
difficult in Australia than in the United States, Europe and
South Africa. Because of the reluctance of all three majors to
take on his films (together they owned approximately 86 percent
of theatres in Australia), he was forced to rent licensed halls
which often required him to turn over half his gross receipts
for rent.51
Phillip Noyce, an experimental filmmaker, spoke on behalf
of the Sydney Filmmakers the Co-op (a grass roots independent
distribution agency run by a group of local filmmakers since
1962, which was the main organization for handling short films
in Sydney), arguing that the prohibitive cost of hiring cinemas
had led to Co-op to screen its films (often secretly) at
unlicensed premises. Noyce suggested that a new exhibitors
151
quota (to be enforced nationwide) would allow a much wider
screening of the 208 shorts held by the Co-op's library,
i Also calling for a revised quota system was the new Film
| Producers Association (recently formed by an amalgamation of
i
j the Australian Motion Picture Studio Association and the
} Australian Film Producers' Association), representing 100
members, which urged the Board to adopt a federal quota for all
| Australian feature films (superceding the NSW quota), with an
i
j additional clause requiring all local distributors to invest in
t
local production if they could not secure sufficient "quota
films."53
On the other hand, comments from the representatives of
the major chains were similar to the trade attitudes in 1927
and 1934. They all opposed quotas favoring the local product
(as they would cut into their profits from overseas films).
When Board chairman Richard Boyer raised the issue of taxation
on inported films, management argued that the tariffs would
only be passed on to the local audiences (adding that with the
advent of color television, due to be available in a few years,
i
{ which would certainly draw audiences away from theatres, high
theatre prices would give them further reason to stay away).
Management expressed a condescending attitude toward
Australian productions, while lauding American and British
films. Hoyts executive Dale Turnbull thought that Australian
j productions suffered from a "ghetto mentality"54 and Greater
! Union's Keith Moreman stressed that local productions lacked
152
the technical polish of overseas productions.55 Turnbull even
advocated subsidies that would encourage foreign (meaning
American) visitors to give local producers the benefit of their
experience.56
Australian managing director of Fox Films, Eric Davis,
noted that his (American based) company had invested in
"Australian" films such as Kangaroo (1952), and Smilev (1956),
but for an overseas company to invest in an all-Australian
production without any creative input (i.e. script development
and direction) would be very difficult.57 What Davis did not
mention was that Fox had made these two films only to unfreeze
capital held in Australia during World War II, so its motive
had been purely economic at the time. Further, in the two
decades since the early fifties, neither Fox nor Hoyts had
invested in any Australian films. Moreman, on behalf of
Greater Union, said that his company had invested in many
Australian productions in the past, but had lost money on all
but one, They1 re a Weird Mob (1966). True, Greater Union had
invested in three productions since the war,56 and Moreman was
correct that all had shown a loss; what he did not say was
that Greater Union had taken 80 percent of the profits of Weird
Mob (or $250,000) leaving the producers with just enough to pay
back their investment.
Former executive of Universal Pictures Al Daff, endorsing
the world wide power of the American film industry, "reminded"
153
the Board, that there would not be a movie industry anywhere if
not for the product of American distributors.
It would be very ironic if we were to end up with a
struggling, ineffective and weak local industry at the
expense of an established overseas industry, that has been
the mainstay and is still the mainstay for theatre
operations in this country.59
This was a position compatible with the (Australian) Motion
Picture Distributors Association, made up of Hoyts, Greater
Union, Roadshow and all branches of American distributors who
heartily agreed with Daff.
The Australian Film Development Corporation was under fire
from filmmakers and the trade. Producers disliked the AFDC's
purely commercial motives, and felt that much of the small
budget (one million per year) favored television at the expense
of feature films. Both the FPAA and Tim Burstall deplored the
Corporation's funding decisions, finding them random and
unsatisfactory. Burstall in particular accused the corporation
of exuding ivory tower attitudes, and recommended that it
deploy assessors, not guided by favoritism while allocating
films.64 Accordingly, many producers argued for the
"establishment and publishing of all policy guidelines on
projects, and that this policy be carried out in a systematic
fashion in preference to the (present) ad hoc decision
making.65
Others argued that the AFDC needed to expand its role
into a comprehensive financing institution, providing not only
competition guarantees (insurance sold to producers for a
154
percentage of the production budget guaranteeing that the AFDC
would provide extra funds in the event that production company
ran out of money before the completion of production) but also
post production financing, to "bridge the lengthy period
between production and the sale of the film."66 On producer
urged the AFDC to serve as a liaison: 1) between producer and
distributor/exhibitor in working out contracts (presumably to
protect the producer); 2) between the industry and the public,
by "establishing a research department to make a quarterly
analysis of the Australian market to provide film producers and
exhibitors with authoritative up-to-date reports on the kinds
of films Australians wanted to see.
The major chains, however, had never supported the idea of
government subsidies to filmmaker, acting as if their territory
had been encroached upon. Hie conservative distribution/
exhibition journal Australian Exhibitor (which essentially
endorsed and expressed local trade practices) commented upon
the August 1969 inception of the Experimental Film and
Television Fund:
The piggy-bank hand-outs to starry-eyed amateurs by the
Australia Council for the Arts (which disbursed the funds)
borders on the ludicrous, but at the same time,
dangerous.67
Herbert Hayward, echoed the Exhibitor’s position when he
caustically assessed the AFDC shortly after its formation.
Though chairman of the supposedly neutral New South Wales
Theatres and Films Commission (in existence to enforce the
quota act), he was closer to the position of distributors and
exhibitors (having served as executive of Greater Union
Theatres for twenty years.) He commented early 1970,
Nothing more pathetic or ludicrous has ever came out of
Canberra. Firstly, a million dollars is less than chicken
feed. Secondly, it will be in the hands of a bunch of
academics, full of high-flown theories but devoid of any
real knowledge and experience in feature filmmaking, and
local and overseas marketing requirements.68
At the hearing, Keith Moreman accused the AFDC of having
mounted a smear campaign against distributors and exhibitors69
a peculiar remark because the powers of the AFDC did not extend
into distribution and exhibition; producers had that
responsibility.
In the defense of the AFDC chairman, John Darling stressed
that the agency was into profit after only 20 months of its
inception,70 a position that was consistent with the
corporation's original goals of initiating and efficiently
managing a local film industry. Economics aside, the national
image that the commercial films were projecting — particularly
through The Adventures of Barrv McKenzie and Stork, (though the
latter was not funded by the AFDC) — was a concern first
raised by recent critical response to the films. Most saw
Barrv in particular, as infantile, crude and embarrassing, and
detrimental to the Australian image overseas.71 Though no
critics spoke at the Inquiry (critic/filmmaker Michael
Thornhill was present, though he did not discuss the problems
of particular films funded by the AFDC), Darling's subsequent
declaration of new a policy seemed a response to "outside"
criticism as well as to comments by producers who begrudged the
AFDC during the Inquiry. Darling stated that the AFDC had plans
"to assist projects of quality, developmental or innovative
value, which would not necessarily have good commercial
prospects," (though these projects could involve a greatly
increased element of [financial] risk for the corporation) .72
Darling's new direction for the AFDC was consistent with
remarks by the Australian Council for the Arts Chair Dale
Coombs, who stated that the original AFDC bill had placed
greater emphasis on the encouragement of high artistic and
technical standards.73 Further, when the Board chair asked
producers for their opinion on the nature of films most
suitable for production subsidies, their response (like that of
critics) not only demonstrated a Concern about world opinion —
"that quality craftsmanship and national characteristics would
most likely achieve international acceptance"74 — but also
confidence in appealing to local and overseas audiences. Tim
Burstall added, "I propose that we made films deliberately for
the Australian market with that market in mind, and those films
are most likely, in my view, to crack the overseas markets."75
So world recognition could be compatible with national
expression, and both were important to producers.
The last session finished up in Canberra on November 29.
The hearings had demonstrated that filmmakers and industry
supporters had not only shown a new level of sophistication and
157
business sense about production, distribution and exhibition,76
but a full-fledged commitment to support and develop a strong
indigenous film industry. The Tariff Board issued its report
several months later in June, 1973. By then, Australia had
elected its first Labor government in 23 years, and Prime
Minister Gough Whitlam had instituted many national reforms.
Accordingly, filmmakers were confident that the government
would legislate improvements in all sectors of the film
industry, and in particular, exert a measure of control over
distribution and exhibition chains. It is necessary to back
track a bit, and examine briefly Whitlam's rise to power and
the first several months of his administration in terms of
national and foreign policy in order to understand his handling
of the Tariff Board Report.
Whitlam's Rise to Power
The last day of the Tariff Board Hearing was just a few
days away from the national election (scheduled for December
2). Labor party candidate Gough Whitlam had gained electorate
support since the last national election in October, 1970,
which he had almost won on his Vietnam platform, promising
complete withdrawal of all Australian troops if elected.
Though the McMahon government was returned to power, the
Liberal coalition lost several seats in parliament, maintaining
only a small margin of seven seats. Whitlam's strong and
charismatic leadership of the Australian Labor Party (he was
158
elected president in 1956) had helped to unify and strengthen
the party (as state factions had smoothed over their
differences at his urging), and key sections of the electorate,
including academics, religious leaders, students rallied to
support Labor on the Vietnam issue.
During his administration, McMahon continued to be held
accountable for Australian presence in a highly unpopular war,
which was perceived by many as racist. Though the McMahon
government had reduced the number of troops, (in accordance
with Nixon's phased-out withdrawal), war protesters perceived
any Australian complicity in an American imperialist war as
intolerable, and they continued to hold peace marches and
protests in major cities right up to the day of the election.
Another racist issue was linked to the McMahon administration
in August, 1972, which further damaged its image. Aborigine
leaders, representing the Northern territory and, acting in
accordance with a May 1972 government committee recommendation
that land should be provided for Aboriginals forced off their
customary hunting grounds by pastoralists (sheep and cattle
ranchers), set up an "Aboriginal Embassy" on the front lawn of
Parliament House in Canberra, vowing to camp there until land
rights were granted their people. McMahon and Cabinet refused
to speak with the leaders, and the government quickly passed an
ordinance permitting their forcible removal by the local
police. Several members of the contingent continued to return
to embarrass the government and though their cause made
159
headlines in all national papers, the government still refused
to listen.
The McMahon government was also unable to deal effectively
with the problem of increasing inflation (six percent per year)
and increasing unemployment (two percent — a high figure by
Australian standards), as the world recession and currency
crisis undermined and diminished the 30 year boom in the
Australian economy McMahon made a major blunder in foreign
policy in September, 1971 when he failed to renew the lucrative
grain agreement with Red China (as Canada quickly stepped in to
make a deal). Shortly thereafter, Whitlam and a Labor con
tingent made a visit to China to discuss new trade agreements
with officials; so in the public eye, McMahon was irresponsible
and out of touch with Australia's needs.
As the national election drew closer, Whitlam promised a
total abolition of the military conscription, a complete pull-
out of forces from Vietnam, and recognition of Mainland China
(to pull votes from the Liberal grazier contingent). He also
promised to institute long overdue local reforms, including a
comprehensive medical plan subsidized by the government, and
increased spending in secondary public and private schools.
Facing dwindling national support, the Liberal Coalition
tried to match Labor's promises and encouraged the populace to
look at the Liberal government's commendable record in the last
two decades, adding "after 23 years in the 'wilderness' Labor
160
must...lack the experience, the expertise and the stability to
be trusted with the nation’s destiny."78
But by evening of election day, it was clear that the
country had elected a Labor government with Gough Whitlam as
its new leader (Though Labor controlled the House of
Representatives, the Liberal coalition had the Senate; this
"split parliament" would be a thorn in the Prime Minister's
side in the later years of his administration as he tried to
push through major pieces of legislation.)
After the election, The Whitlam Administration did not
lose any time in instituting an inpress ive docket of national
reforms. Within two weeks, Whitlam announced a broad range of
l
changes in military policy, abolishing conscription, pulling
remaining troops out of Vietnam, freeing draft resisters,
i
dropping charges against another 300 men, and issuing pardons
to 150 men absent without leave from the Army. Whitlam also
announced substantially improved conditions (i.e. higher wages)
for volunteers in the armed forces.
In the area of minority rights, Whitlam re-opened the
I
government arbitration commission hearing on women's claims for
equal pay for equal work, and announced massive spending on
Aboriginal welfare, in addition to suspending the granting of
mining leases on Aborigine reserves. By mid-1973, Whitlam had
pushed through his program for Civil reforms, including a 35-
hour work week for public servants with new benefits — four
J
weeks of annual leave and paid maternity and paternity leave. J
161
In the area of education, he abolished tuition fees in uni
versities and other tertiary institutions, thereby encouraging
more Australians to take advantage of higher eduction,79
Whitlam also stepped up government expenditures on primary and
secondary education.
In the area of foreign policy/ Whitlam went beyond
traditional alliances with the United States and Britain, and
established diplomatic and trade relationships with several new
countries, including China, Indonesia and Southeast Asia.
Throughout 1973, he visited the capitols of all major powers,
including France, West Germany, Japan (and in 1974, he made an
unprecedented trip to Russia). Abroad, he handled himself with
grace and intelligence, helping Australia improve its overseas
image, no longer was Australia the distant country "down
under," but a significant link in international relations.
Though many conservatives became almost hysterical about
Australia's new stance in world relations (particularly its
links with Communist China and Russia), and accused the
government of undermining or even destroying traditional links
with its mentor United States,80 Whitlam carefully maintained
these liaisons, essentially cherishing the American alliance as
the fundamental basis of Australian foreign policy.81 When
three of his ministers publicly denounced Nixon's resumption of
bombing Hanoi in December 1972, Whitlam wrote only a private
note of protest. The only official criticism of United States
military maneuvers from Whitlam and Cabinet was a polite letter
162
of inquiry about the build-up of a United States naval base on
the island of Diego Garcia (in the Indian Ocean between Africa
and Australia). Australia continued to host U.S. missile sites
in Western Australia (near Perth), and in the central territory
(near Alice Springs). And Australia deferred to U.S. naval
leadership in the Pacific (via the Anzus Pact); U.S. ships
could dock at any time in Australian ports.
On the other hand, as Australia preserved its links with
the United States, it became increasingly independent of
Britain as trade priorities shifted. England announced in
January, 1973 its entry into the European Economic Community,
thus establishing closer ties with Europe than with "Common
wealth1 1 Australia 10,000 miles away. (This new development had
been Australia's rationale for its new trade agreements with
Pacific countries.) The words "British Subject" disappeared
from Australian passports, and the Australian song, "Advance
Australia Fair" replaced "God Save the Queen" as the national
anthem. The Queen of England still "reigned" over Australia,
but only with figurehead status, as the Prime Minister of
Australia still ran the country.
Australia's relationship, then, with the United States
during Whitlam administration can be summed up in one word,
"allegiance," this had a major effect on the shape of the
Australian film industry from June, 1973 (when Board
recommendations were released), and on the development of the
Australian Film Commission legislation (passed March 1975).
163
Foremost in the Board's proposals was a detailed plan for
divestiture of overseas holdings in "Australian" distribu
tion/exhibition chains, a scheme which threatened Hollywood's
lucrative networks in Australia. Subsequently the Whitlam
government was heavily lobbied by private industry outside and
within Australia and the final legislation showed major
concessions to Hollywood film companies.
The Tariff Board Report
The Tariff Board Report was a comprehensive seventy-five
page document, recommending not only unprecedented government
supervision over private distribution and exhibition companies
operating unimpeded for 70 years in Australia, but also new and
expanded responsibilities for the new Corporation (referred to
in the report as the Australian Film Authority) a full-fledged
funding and distribution agency. The Board's recommendations
were based not only on the hearing held from September through
November, but also on its subsequent six-month investigation
into distribution and exhibition practices in Australia.
The Board isolated three problems facing Australian
filmmakers: difficulties in obtaining sufficient financing for
indigenous productions; small returns from the Australian
market (often insufficient to cover production costs); and
local films lack of access to Australian and international
markets.82 Though the Board acknowledged that AFDC had
attempted to amend the first problem by providing a one million
164
dollar per year subsidy to local productions, it argued the
amount was not nearly enough to meet the needs of filmmakers.
Far more serious were the prohibitive distribution and
exhibition practices of three monopolies — Hoyts, Greater
Union and Roadshow — which collectively owned 95 percent of
first-run theatres83 and which consistently favored overseas
films to Australian ones. Declaring that these "existing
ownership structures.. .and resulting market relationships had
made it difficult for Australian films to obtain opportunities
for exhibition commensurate with their intrinsic worth,"84 the
Board argued that its plan would • ’ maximize" the opportunities
for, and minimize the restraints on the production, distri
bution and exhibition of Australian films, [giving] them equal
footing in the marketplace.8^
First of all, the Australian Film Authority could be
endowed with a budget of three and one-half million dollars
each year for the first three years (and two and one-half
million per year thereafter86) to be composed of four branches.
The first two branches would offer production incentives (and
would work in tandem with private industry investment) .87
Project Development, (replacing the AFDC as the major funding
body), would have the power to administer direct grants up to
25 percent of the budget, and, in addition, could provide
equity assistance of up to 25 percent of budget for feature
films. (The old loan system would not be in practice anymore,
taking the pressure off filmmakers to produce returns.)
165
Project Development would also have a budget for promotion
subsidies of $200,000 per year. Finally, the branch would have
the responsibility of certifying short films for inclusion in
the Board's proposed (nationwide) exhibition quota — 10
percent of short exhibited would have to be Australian
produced. (According to the board, a short film was less than
an hour in length.)
The second branch, Special Funds (budget, $750,000) would
take over the responsibility of the Experimental Film and
Television Fund, currently administered by Australia Council,
(formerly Australian Council for the Arts), appropriating
grants for smaller, more modest films proposed by inexperienced
filmmakers for up to 50 per cent of budget. Special Funds
would also have prize moneys available ($70,000 per year) to be
awarded to films "not approved by the Project Branch for
financial assistance, but which had nevertheless proven to be
successful by Australian box-office standards,"88 so that
filmmakers could use the award as an incentive to continue with
their filmmaking.
The Board also recommended a new funding policy for the
Authority, using an emphasis on "national, cultural, artistic
and aesthetic aspirations"89 Inherent in these guidelines were
two issues: 1) technical excellence in cinematography, sound
and editing, as well as a high level of proficiency in acting,
script writing and direction, which (the Board argued) would be
provided by the Film and Television school;90 2) serious
166
presentations of worthy Australian themes,91 that the
government would be proud to produce and distribute locally and
overseas.
The third branch, Industry Supervision, would have full
authority to regulate the distributioiyexhibition sector,
controlling not only horizontal integration, by enforcing
limitations on the number of theatres owned by a chain, but
also vertical integration, by overseeing the divestitures of
overseas production companies from holdings in Australia. With
regard to companies practicing horizontal integration, each
major chain (that is, Hoyts, Greater Union and Roadshow), would
be required to sell a portion of its theatres, The Board's
rationale was the following:
.. .the objective of the inquiry can be best realized by
reducing the present concentration of control within the
industry. This will only be possible if the dominance of
the prime exhibition outlets by the GUO - Village group
and Hoyts can be removed, and the necessary measure of
genuine competition created by restructuring the industry
to provide a greater number of suitable alternative
outlets for any film92
By saying "any film" rather than "any Australian film" the
Board recognized that Australian production
would almost certainly remain small relative to the total
local demand for films, and that, whatever the extent of
Australian production, the local market [would] not be
adequately served unless there [were] a continuing and
substantial supply of overseas films.93
So to limit private holdings was to give all "deprived" films
an opportunity to be screened, although of course, the Board's
primary concern was the plight of Australian films.
167
Hie following criteria, then, would be used to determine
the number of theatres a chain would have to relinquish:
1) if the chain owned more than 33 and one-third percent
of theatres in (cities with greatest population), Sydney
and Melbourne; 2) if the chain owned more than 33 and one-
third percent of theatres in cities with a population of
more than 200,000 (excluding Sydney and Melbourne)
including Brisbane, Perth, Adelaide, Hobart; 3) if the
chain owned more than 33 and one-third percent of theatres
in on state.94
According to city, each chain would have to sell the following
number of theatres:
Sydney Greater Union Organization 4
Hoyts
Melbourne Greater Union 1
Village (Roadshow) 3
Adelaide Greater Union 1
Perth Ace Theatres 1
Brisbane Greater Union 1 95
(In Sydney, Greater Union and Hoyts held 92 percent of all
theatre seats; in Melbourne, GUO and Roadshow, 91 percent; in
Adelaide, GUO, 79 percent; in Perth Ace Theatres, 70 percent,
and in Brisbane GUO 86 percent.)96 In all, Greater Union would
be required to sell seven theatres, Hoyts two and (Village)
Roadshow three. The Board also noted that Greater Union would
probably be required to dispose of the main part of its share
holding in Village Theatres.97 Reducing exhibition holdings
would encourage a more diverse ownership of Australian
theatres; the Board also reasoned that the new independent
management would actively publicize and screen Australian
168
films, as well as films from other countries heretofore ignored
by the three chains.
With regard to breaking up vertical integration, the Board
next focused on Twentieth-Century Fox (which owned a 65 percent
share in Hoyts) and the Rank Film Company (which held a 50
percent share in Greater Union). Citing Section 92D of the
Broadcasting and Television Act, which "limited overseas
holdings in local companies"98 the Board stated that Fox and
Rank would be required over a period of two years to divest
themselves of all shares in Hoyts and Greater Union
respectively, and sell them to Australian based interests, so
that no overseas producer or distributor would control, either
through ownership or otherwise, any exhibition outlets."99
Thus, through this two-part divestiture process (empha
sizing that these would be the minimum changes necessary),
Australian markets would be restored to (rightful) Australian
ownership:
Distribution and exhibition [chains would be available]
for more equitable screening arrangements for all films,
not just American and British films.. .giving them
exhibition opportunities commensurate with their box-
office potential, irrespective, of their country of
origin or the production or distribution company to which
they belong.10^
Finally, the "long term duties" of the Industry
Supervision Branch would be to "maintain a constant check to
see that the 'control' requirements (limiting vertical and
horizontal holdings) were not violated. The branch would also
monitor box-office receipts on behalf of the fourth branch
169
(Film Distribution), collecting and collating all statistical
and other industry data, including copies of distribution and
exhibition contracts (between private companies),101
Film Distribution (with a budget of $300,000 per year)
would manage a distribution service, "operating facilities (in
Australia and other countries) for the local and overseas
distribution of such Australian films.. .made available to it,
[also serving] to distribute imported films"102 (within
Australia). This branch would have the power to hire and
subsidize exhibition outlets (not necessarily, but possibly
using any or all of 13 divested theatres) for any of the
following: experimental films, films of special merit not
likely to obtain box-office success, and films considered for
any reason to require exhibition to provide them with an
opportunity to demonstrate their box-office potential.1,103
Essentially, this branch would be picking up films
traditionally ignored by commercially oriented chains, and also
providing outlets for (but not necessarily) films funded by
Special Funds and Project Branches.
The Industry Supervision Section and Film Distribution
Branch represented radical measures, for a government agency
would have the power to intervene in the traditionally sacred
areas controlled by private enterprise. The Board's plan for
divesting distribution/exhibition interests, if approved by the
government, would profoundly restructure relationships largely
unchanged since the end of World War I 104 returning to
170
Australian ownership all major distribution and exhibition
agencies.
Although the Board's divestiture plan was bold and
courageous, it somewhat naively overlooked the powerful
deterministic role of distributors in the film market.
Distributors were the sole determiners of the film supply to
theatres, assessors of the film's profit-making potential,
based upon their own judgement of revenue from potential
outlets, (usually buying films outright from producers, with
rights of ownership and copyrights). To take away a certain
number of theatres from distribution/exhibition chains and
force a change in theatre ownership would not alter the
privileged role of distributors. Exhibitors would still be
dependent upon distributors for their product. The "released"
thirteen independent theatres (and the theatres no longer under
the ownership of Fox and Rank) would still be subject to the
same market conditions, altruistic and nationalistic motives
aside. Australian historian/critic Barrett Hodsden, analyzing
the Tariff Board Report commented,
Divesting chains of some of their key theatres is a
questionable move since there is little evidence to
suggest that independent operators will introduce greater
efficiency or even new marketing approaches; such
operators may well be conditioned by the same commercial
market formulas that preceded them1®5
Independents might well continue to book American and British
films with proven overseas track records, which promised to
generate good profits, at the expense of untested Australian
171
ones. In other words, divestiture would not change audience
viewing habits conditioned by years of a steady supply of
American and British films.
As Hodsden further points out, the Board overlooked a
golden opportunity to expand the capacities of the Film
Distribution Branch into exhibition, in its reluctance to
involve the Authority in theatre ownership (The Board argued
that this would probably result in an increase in the number of
outlets out of proportion to a stable number of audiences.
Further, government ownership of theatres would not go to the
root of the problem and increase competition within both
exhibition and distribution sectors.)106 And since the
Australian Film Authority would already be handling theatres,
(that is, "hiring" them for special screenings), Hodsden argues
that the AFA ownership of same or all of the divested theatres
could have been a way to implement a variety of screenings of
films ignored by commercially oriented handlers.106 One
theatre in each major city, then, could host contemporary
Australian features, documentaries, shorts and experimental
films, or even pre-Renaissance Australian films, 1903-1970.
Other theatres (in line with the Board's idea to have the
Distribution Branch screen imports also) could have an
international scope with films representing a particular decade
or a national movement — for example, Classical Japanese,
Italian Neo-realism, German New Wave, or even American
independent films of the 50's and 60's. It is odd that the
172
Board would drastically alter distribution and exhibition,
which were in the domain of states rights. The board knew
this, and it optimistically expressed confidence in federal and
state governments, which would "work this out."
The board realizes that not all of the measures it will
recommend can be implemented within the present powers of
the Commonwealth Government. It has, however, proceeded
on the assumption that the Commonwealth and State
Governments are united in their desire to further the
welfare of the Australian film industry and that any
necessary cooperation in legislative and administrative
matters can be achieved.108
Theoretically, the Whitlam government would have to lobby the
states to give the federal government the power the right to
intervene if it wished to act on the Board's recommendations.
(The only time the government had lobbied to in this area was
in 1927 — the two-year effort was unsuccessful.)
McClelland and the Film Industry
When Whitlam received the report in June, 1973, he
nervously tabled it. It was political dynamite, already
portions of it were leading to the press, creating a furor not
only among Liberal members of Parliament, but also among the
management of Hoyts, Greater Union and Roadshow. Whitlam
quickly noted that the government was not committed to
implementing the report as it was presently written, and
announced that before legislation was drafted September, 1972,
a period of time would be allowed for full discussion from all
"interested parties." He further noted that his Minister for
173
the Media, Douglas McClelland had "full authority" to make
recommendations to Cabinet concerning the report (Cabinet would
ultimately write the legislation to be presented to Parliament
for consideration, debate and revision, in late 1974.)
Whitlam did not have a special commitment to furthering
the development of the local film industry, unlike Groton, who
had aggressively pushed film subsidy legislation through
Parliament and who had personally prepared the AFDC legisla
tion. Instead, Whitlam deferred all film business to
McClelland,109 who was in charge of overseeing the film and
television industries. Another reason for Whitlam's marginal
relationship with the film industry was that he was out of the
time in 1973 and 1974 on diplomatic missions.
During the months that the Board's recommendations were
tabled and legislation for the Australian Film Commission (as
Cabinet referred to the new authority) was being prepared by
Cabinet, McClelland led a double existence, fluctuating between
voicing a strong commitment to the local industry, yet catering
to, and courting American interests. As Bertrand and Collins
point out, McClelland's appointment as the first Minister for
the Media had been a controversial one:
For the film industry, a disquieting sign and been
(McClelland's) contribution of a chapter on media in a
book of Australian party essays, Towards a New Australia.
published in 1972, in which he had barely mentioned film.
He was also reported to be in favor of attracting foreign
(i.e. American) producers to Australia, in the hope of
making an Australian Gone With The Wind111
174
Yet, even before the Tariff Board Report had been presented to
Whitlam, McClelland seemed to fully support an indigenous
industry. In February, 1973, Jack Valenti, President of the
Motion Picture Association of America,113 came to Australia to
pay respects to the Media Minister, and as Adams and Shirley
have pointed out, "to see what a Labor government might do to
break the United States domination of distribution."113 The
day Valenti arrived, in Sydney, protests were staged outside
his hotel by an Action Committee (former under the leadership
of producer/director, Tom Jeffrey) and composed of film
producers, many of whom had given submissions at the Inquiry,
as well as members of film unions guilds and societies. Their
signs ranged from requests for McClelland’s support — "Help
save Australian film," "Don't fail the industry this time,
Doug,"114 to attacks on the American film industry — "It's
time to end 50 years of U.S. domination of Australian
film.”115
The next day, McClelland expressed his determination to
defend local productions from U.S. interests:
Some are saying that Valenti has come here to screw me and
I use that expression in the Australian and not the Ameri
can vernacular. I welcome Mr. Valenti to Australia because
it will give me a first hand man to man opportunity to
explain to him the Australian government's determination
build our own film industry.11®
McClelland also predicted that "rigidly enforced quotas would
be introduced if each major (American) distributor/exhibitor
did not produce at least one feature film a year in Australia
175
— written, directed and produced by Australians.117 However,
during the duration of his term (which ended June, 1975),
McClelland never attempted to initiate any legislation to back
tip this statement.
For the record, Valenti was undaunted by the protestors
(and McClelland's remarks) and a few months later in October
(after the tabling of the Report) he met with Whitlam (both
were on stop-overs in Hawaii), allegedly to declare that the
American Motion Picture Association would retaliate if the
Board's divesture recommendations were adopted, by stopping the
export of all their films to Australia.
From October, 1973 through^August, 1974, representatives
from Hoyt's and Greater Union (who both handled American films)
conferred with Cabinet members. McClelland was also "duchessed"
during this period by top management executives from each chain
who argued that Australia "needed" American films to serve as
models for the Australian product and to keep theatres full of
patrons. An industry activist commented:
McClelland's attitudes were carefully cultivated by Hoyt's
and Greater Union (and through their introductions) by
Jack Valenti and others in Hollywood. McClelland believed
that we were to learn from the American how to make
films.118
Hoyts was so assured of its lobbying influence, that it
confidently announced plans to build 18 new cinemas in
November, 1973 (The company had opened nine in the previous
year.)
176
By September 1974, when McClelland presented his
Australian Film Commission Bill to the Senate, the legislation
focused on only one aspect of the new film authority —
production subsidies provided through Project Development.
Completely eliminated were the provisions authorizing the
Australian Film Authority to supervise divestiture of overseas
interest from local distributors/exhibitors and impose
limitations on exhibition outlets owned by the three chains.
In fact, the only mention of a governmental role in
distribution was in the Bill's prologue, which described
vaguely the "general functions" of the Australian Film
Commission: "to encourage whether by the provision of
financial assistance or otherwise, the making, promotion,
distribution and broadcasting of Australian films."119 So the
lobbying from the private sector was successful, and in
addition, McClelland never initiated any activity to lobby the
states to transfer their jurisdiction over distribution and
exhibition to the federal government. Phillip Adams reported
at the time that McClelland, "who counted members of the film
trade among his person friends," used alleged threats by
American producer/distributors to stop sending features to
panic his Cabinet colleagues,120 adding "McClelland was able to
seize on some constitutional difficulties, and little by
little, the Tariff Report was compromised, dismantled and
scrapped."121
177
Ironically, when McClelland presented the Bill to the
Senate, he chided past governments for failing to protect the
local industry. "It is tragic that film.. .was not fostered and
protected by the Government during Australia's early film
beginnings.. .inadequate protection led to the undermining of
what had been a flourishing industry"122 — even after he and
Cabinet had eliminated all of the protective legislation
proposed by the Board.
Within a few months, McClelland's true colors emerged as
alleged links with Valenti were confirmed in April, 1975 when a
letter written by McClelland to Valenti (dated October, 1974)
was published in the Melbourne daily The Acre (provided by the
Film Action Committee). In the letter McClelland asked Valenti
for two things: "Suggestions for names for membership in t he
Australian Film Commission, and help in finding work in
Hollywood for (his) daughter123 who had recently moved to Los
Angeles. As the letter implied, McClelland's liaisons with
Hollywood were far more important to him than protecting and
aiding the local industry. After the letter was published, the
film community was outraged and Peter Scott (president of the
Australian Film Council) "wondered how McClelland could write
such a chatty friendly letter to a man in America while
ignoring local filmmakers."124 As Scott, Phillip Adams and
others pointed out, "A personal friendship existed between
McClelland, Valenti and American based distributors when none
existed between McClelland and the film industry."125 At the
178
time, McClelland dismissed the latter as "groundless drivel",
but the notoriety surrounding this incident was an acute
embarrassment to ’ Whitlam, (who had put his full trust in
McClelland) and was one of the incidents that led to his
dismissal.
The Australian Film Commission Bill
Though the powers of the Australian Film Authority had
been whittled down considerably by Cabinet, for several months,
(between September, 1974 and February, 1975) bitter disputes
still took place between the Senate and the House over the
extent and nature of the Commission's power, McClelland's role
in overseeing the Commission, and the Commission's relationship
with the trade. The Liberal coalition insisted on limited
powers to the AFC (and no authority to McClelland), and a
laissez-faire attitude toward the trade. On the other hand,
Labor argued for a strong centralized authority that provided a
maximum of protection to production companies and the film
industry.
To the benefit of local filmmakers, the House was
controlled by Labor, but to their disadvantage, the Senate
vote was equally divided; though the Liberal opposition could
not force amendments, it could force deletions.126 The five
issues the Senate objected to and deleted during the first
round of debate were the following; 1) full authority to
McClelland and his Ministry in overseeing and determining all
179
funding policies of the AFC; 2) a provision for an Australian
short film quota, requiring all exhibitors to devote ten
percent of their screening time to Australian shorts;127 3) the
disclosure of information clause, giving the AFC power to
request financial transaction records from private production/
distribution/exhibition companies (local and overseas); 4) the
pecuniary interest clause, limiting the appointment of full
time commissioners from large corporation; 5) tax exemption
status for the AFC. The House rejected all these changes,
restored the deletions, and sent the Bill to back to the
Senate, which made the same deletions again. Finally, after a
series of compromises, the final bill passed both houses in
March, 1975.
To the delight of film producers, McClelland and his
Department would only have "authority over Film Australia128
(where they had always had final authority), and his role would
be as a figurehead (McClelland could give only general
directions to Film Australia, and these must be tabled in
Parliament.)129 Prime Minister Whitlam would have ultimate
authority over the Australian Film Commission.130 This was
perceived as a good sign by producers, for recently Whitlam had
"embraced" the feature film (and television) industries:
Film and television are the art forms of the twentieth
century...It is quite necessary that Australia...
participate in these art forms.. .and now open to those
English speaking people who live in Australia.
Australians will be proud of them. The rest of the world
will acknowledge Australia.131
180
A short film quota would be enforced by the Commission,
requiring that a "specified proportion of short films be
screened" or "a specified proportion of time be devoted" to
their exhibition. ”132 The disclosure of information clause was
deleted completely from AFC jurisdiction, but the new Trade
Practices Act (passed February, 1974), would enable the
government to request and obtain financial records from
distributors and exhibitors.
The pecuniary interest clause was compromised to favor the
trade. Each of the three full-time Commissioners could not
represent (own, have a partnership in or own shares in) a film
production, distribution, exhibition company of less than
twenty-five persons.133 This excluded representation from the
smaller production, distribution and exhibition companies, but
allowed owners, and shareholders in big companies — major dis
tribution and exhibition firms — to serve on the Commission.
However, there were no such restrictions placed on the six
part-time members. Finally, the AFC was granted tax exemption,
thus, monies appropriated from the government would be free and
clear of taxes, and filmmakers would receive their full
allotted amount.
According to the Act, the Australian Film Commission would
have four branches. Project Development would have an annual
budget of $2.5 million (one million less than requested by the
Tariff Board) for "script development, production loans and
investments, and completion guarantees.134 Film Australia, the
181
second branch, would have its own budget of $4 million. The
Third branch, Marketing and Distribution, would only be
responsible for an "Australian presence" at Cannes and other
international film festivals, with, however, no authority in
commercial distribution and exhibition. This branch could,
however, provide travel grants for filmmakers whose films had
been chosen to compete in film festivals, and marketing
personnel could help the producer with publicity strategies,
but it would be the producer's responsibility to handle the
sale of the film himyherself. This branch would also be
responsible for enforcing the national short films quota.
The Bill did not designate a Special Projects Branch for
experimental, smaller budgeted films for first-time filmmakers;
however, in a special agreement worked out in September, 1975
between Phillip Adams, restored head of the Film, Radio and
Television Board (still under Australia Council and Department
of Media) the Board would still be responsible, (with the help
from the Australian Film Institute) for appropriating moneys
for the Experimental Film (and Television) Fund (its budget
approximately 100,000 per year). Later, however, as the AFC
became more centralized, a fifth branch, Creative Development,
would be established in 1976, taking over the functions of the
Board, which would be disbanded.
The 1975 AFC Bill was consistent with the Whitlam
government' s foreign policy of allegiance to the United States
(and McClelland' s Americanization). The provisions of the Bill
182
did not tamper with American interests locally (by putting
restrictions on the number of theatres owned by Hoyts and
Greater Union) or abroad (by forcing divestment). By choosing
a "safe1 1 role in distribution, and choosing only to handle
films in festivals, the government implied it would not
interfere (or compete with) commercial distributors/exhibitors.
Consistent with this position, the government never enforced
the short films quota. As the bill implied, the central role
of the government agency was then to act as a bank, providing
grants, loans and investments for local producers. But the
government had doubled the budget of the AFDC, and filmmakers
perceived this as a solid indication that the Labor government
was "willing to spend public money freely"136 in support of an
indigenous film industry.
The New Commissioners and Their Policy
When the new commissioners were announced on the 15th of
April, the film community was still in a furor over the Valenti
letter published four days before. As Adams and Shirley point
out, there were some differences of opinion over whether
McClelland had sought a sufficiently full range of industry
opinion on the choice of Commissioners (prior to the leaking of
the Valenti letter).137 McClelland claimed that he had inter
viewed representatives of the film and television industries,
including members of the Australian Film Council, Sydney
Filmmakers Co-op, Australian Writers Guild, and Producers and
Directors Guild of Australia, even inviting the Film Council to
submit names for consideration as early as September, 1974.138
The Film Council claimed that telegrams "seeking the opinion of
key industry unions and associations had been sent out only the
day before the Valenti letter was published.139
On April 16th, the day after McClelland released the names
of the seven member commission, the Australian Film Council
announced that it was delivering to the Prime Minister its
"Media Department Dossier", which was an analysis of his
activities which the board concluded, demonstrated his total
incompetence. Members declared that they intended to stage
protests against the appointments in four state capitals.
McClelland was also under fire from television activists, for
failing to act on current prime time quotas. The January 1961
Bill requiring that within three years at least 40 percent of
television stations hours of transmission were to be devoted to
Australian programs — with at least one hour each week in
prime time — had never been implemented, or enforced by the
Media Ministry Stations were only conforming to the Holt
regulations that television stations were to screen only 30
minutes of Australian drama per week during prime time. In
Melbourne, over 800 actors, writers, musicians and television
technicians demonstrated in support of increasing local tele
vision content.140 On May 17, Phillip Adams resigned from the
Film, Radio and Television Board, referring to McClelland as
the biggest "ministerial disaster in the Labor government."141
All the protesting worked, and unions members and
activists achieved what they had wanted for three years, the
removal of McClelland from his Ministry; in June, Whitlam
"relocated" McClelland to the Department of the Interior, and
appointed a new Minister of the Media, whose responsibilities
would only include the Australian Information Service, the
Australian Government Publishing Services, and the formation
of television and radio broadcasting policies. Whitlam himself
would oversee Film Australia (in addition to the AFC).
In spite of all the ruckus about McClelland's choices for
the first Australian Film Commissioners, six out of the seven
represented local production interests. Film activist Tony
Buckley was also an independent producer; Jill Robb was
marketing representative for the state film organization, The
South Australian Film Corporation. John McQuaid was a former
union organizer, who had also served as a project assessor on
the Film Radio and Television Board of Australia Council.
Frank Gardiner was chairman of the independent exhibition
chain, Airdome Theatres. Graham Burke, who represented Roadshow
Distribution (he was managing director) had financed several
local productions, including projects from Hexagon Films.
Collectively, all had experience in many facets of the local
feature film industry (as opposed to the members of the AFDC,
who had none). The chair of the Commission was Ken Watts,
former Assistant General Manager of the government network
channel, the ABC, whose experience was in developing local
185
programs on focusing on Australian themes. The seventh member,
Peter Martin, had stronger links with American television; he
was producer/programmer for Channel 7, which regularly imported
American programs for local broadcasting. Martin was also
McClelland's chief advisor, probably the reason for his
position on the AFC. McQuaid, Martin and Watts were full time
commissioners, with five year terms. (The latter two were
chosen because of their television experience — Project
Development would also subsidize local television programs.)
The rest of the commissioners were part-time, with three-year
terms.
The Interim Film Board and Commission Policy
The policy of the new Commission was to be determined by
its new members, but to aid them, an Interim Film Board had
been appointed by McClelland in February, 1974. A year later,
the Board presented its recommendations to the Media Ministry.
The Board's recommendations were not radical or even
innovative, but consistent with the idea of quality national
cinema of international calibre voiced by the majority of
producers who spoke at the Tariff Board Inquiry, which served
as the official position of the Tariff Board itself. The
Interim Board Report also emphasized quality over commercial
viability, perceiving the AFC in a collaborative "peaceful co
existence" role with the private sector (a reversal of the
Tariff Board stance which saw the AFC was a film authority and
186
a regulatory agent over the trade). Significantly these two
positions were endorsed and adapted by the new Commission
members.
McClelland's choice of Interim Board members (like those
for the Commission) favored representation from the local
production sector. The Board included Joan long —
scriptwriter, Hector Crawford and Storrey Walton — television
producers, as well as Graham Burke from Roadshow, and former
AFDC members John Darling, and Ronald Elliot, in addition to
another merchant banker Sir Keith Waller.
The Board argued that the Australian Film Commission would
play a major role in presenting Australia's unique culture,
which could be the basis for a stable industry:
While acknowledging that profit and entertainment on the
one hand, and artistic standards and integrity on the
other, are not mutually exclusive, in the long term the
establishment of a quality Australian output is more
important for a profitable, soundly based industry than
the production exclusively of what might be regarded as
sure-fire box office formula films.. .conforming to current
criteria of genre, style or taste.142
The first years of the industry would admittedly be
"developmental," characterized by bold and adventurous risk-
taking, as the Commission funded projects that might not show
immediate returns and even lose money. The Board even saw the
Commission playing a visionary role in selecting innovative
projects ("what is innovative today is box-office
tomorrow").143 Further, with help from the private sector, the
Commission could achieve a stable commercial industry; by
encouraging private investors to assume a greater share of
financing responsibility, the Commission eventually could
decrease its share of risk underwriting over the years.144
The Board optimistically reported that the private
distribution/exhibition chains were already contributing to the
development of the local industry:
Distributors and exhibitors have enjoyed financial profit
from successful Australian films, and now, interested in
handling other good pictures, are extending more
competitive and more favorable distribution and exhibition
contracts.145
Figures bear this out. Between December, 1972 and February,
1975, Greater Union distributed three Australian films and
Roadshow five (also providing production funding for three of
those five).146 Hoyts, however, distributed no local films. A
major industry analyst continues to believe that the proposals
of the Tarriff Board (limiting horizontal and vertical
integrations) acted as an "incentive1 1 to the chains to invest
in local films: 1 1 .. .the very act of making and publishing such
recommendation had a salutary effect on the distribution scene,
as they (the recommendations) acted as a threat."147
The Board predicted that with its new policy, the
Commission funded films would appeal to all audiences:
The Commission can regard its value as proved when it has
been instrumental in creating cinema that Australian
audiences will readily pay to see (and) created films
which are screened successfully overseas because their
craft and artistic standards are international and content
derived from an Australian viewpoint.148
188
Implying that the new Film Distribution Branch (as
designated by the AFC Bill) had a crucial a role in providing
liaisons with overseas festivals, the Board stressed the
following:
Where government sponsorship is required for entry (in
film festivals), the Commission should be the author of
it, working in collaboration with other government
departments and authorities.. .Films do not end with
distribution, they begin with it. All encouragement of
Australian production is pointless without vigorous
aggressive marketing designed to attract the widest
possible return to the producers.149
In its policy statement, issued in September, 1975, the new
Commission adapted the Board’ s positions on funding projects
suitable for international recognition and the Commission’s
partnership with private industry, foregrounding the AFC's
leadership role in both areas. The Commission declared:
It is vital for producers to be given every opportunity
(from the Commission) to produce films of worthy and
quality if Australia is to establish itself on the
international film market. In allocating finance, the
Commission will consider, in addition to a project's
commercial potential, its thematic importance, Australian
content (and) artistic value...151
Later, they qualified their position:
The Commission will endeavor to establish confidence in
film production as an area for private sector investment
...[it] believes that it should play an active role in
seeking other sources for private investment in film
production.152
The Commissioners also opened up another area of concern,
script development:
189
.. .of such importance to the advancement of the Australian
film industry that the Commission is prepared to consult
with all involved group including the Australian Film and
Television Board and the Australian Film and Television
School.
In light of this, the Commission planned to engage outside
assessors, "those with a deep understanding and current
knowledge of film (or television), and a knowledge of script
construction.154 To guide producers through various and
necessary drafts of a screenplay, the Commission would provide
developmental incentives:
Constructive advice is essential in any assessment of a
realistic application and, where there is hope for a
particular project, the Commission may "invest" in a
project in its formative stages by assisting the applicant
through advice and consultation on those aspects of the
project which are not properly developed.
The goals of the Interim Film Board and the Australian
Film Commission were noble, but neither group took the
initiative to go beyond the broad category of "Australian
themes or content" to specify or delineate cultural issues they
deemed appropriate for AFC funding and development. The Board
and Commissioners could have used their policy statements to
outline (heretofore) unexplored areas in Australian society and
history since 1970 for example, the specific problems women and
Aborigines had encountered in a white male dominated Australian
society. Both the Board and the commissioners could have
suggested particular periods for films to explore. Since many
of the AFDC funded films concentrated on the contemporary
period, the Commission could have proposed the turn of the
century, or the 60's, which represent particularly
190
nationalistic periods, which would have been consistent with
their goals.
Further, neither body discussed the relationship of the
Commission to private production companies or the ways in which
the AFC product would be different from that financed by the
private industry. If the Commissioners perceived similarities
with the private sector (in funding policies and nature of
projects funded), then the Commissioners needed to address the
implications or problems of such "overlapping."
With such a strong emphasis on script development, the
Commissioners failed to describe the specific problems they
identified in Australian films (structure? character
development?), or the criteria they would use for employing
outside assessors, who clearly would have a significant role
not only in assessing projects, but in determining funding
trends. For a government body assuming a leadership role in
funding approximately $2.5 million every year (for at least
five years), the Commission's cultural goals and funding
criteria were quite vague, as if they were implying an
attitude of "We'll know what we're looking for when we see it,"
a confusing message for producers.
The Product— 1973-75
Many of the films produced during or after the Tariff
Board Inquiry reflect Australia's political and economic
independence from Britain, and others affirm Australia's closer
economic and political links to the United States. Inherent in
the former group is a playing out of the antagonism toward
and/or breaking away from British control, a theme initiated by
The Adventures of Barrv McKenzie, and reinforced by its sequel
Barry McKenzie Holds His Own (1973), and Peterson (1974).
Between Wars (1974) and Picnic at Hanging Rock (1975) represent
periods of great tension between colonial Australia and
Imperial Britain at the tum-of-the-century and in the 1920's
and 1930's respectively. Sunday Too Far Awav (1975), plays out
internal conflicts between labor and management. Films such as
Scobie Malone (1975) and Alvin Rides Again (1974) are closer to
American generic models, as the Australian subject assumes the
characteristics of classic American types — the hard-boiled
detective and gangster (respectively).
After 1972, companies other than the AFDC, began to fund
films. Tim Bur stall established Hexagon Films in 1973, and a
state government corporation, the State Australian Film
Corporation was formed in 1972. Probably because of the
"spector" of the Tariff Board Inquiry, Greater Union and
Roadshow began to invest in local films. Hexagon's philosophy
was purely commercial, as in the sex comedy, Alvin Purple, or
its sequel, Alvin Rides Again, and (the ocker) Peterson. The
SAFC, Greater Union and Roadshow (with the assistance of the
AFDC) contributed to high risk projects — those without
reliable box office formulas or a recognizable and bankable
Australian subject (such as the ocker), which were closer to a
"quality" product exhibiting technical and artistic excellence
and appropriate for overseas and local audience standards,
envisioned by the Interim Film Board and the Australian Film
Commission. Examples are Between Wars (1974), Sunday too Far
Away (1974), and Picnic at Hanging Rock (1975).
Though all works mentioned will be discussed individually,
with respect to the film's ideology and its relationship to the
spectator (local and/or overseas), in context of the policy and
goals of the financing institution, Between Wars. Sunday and
Picnic will be examined in greater detail, for they paved the
way for the new AFC product.
Following John Darling's commitment during the Tariff
Board Inquiry to find a more respectable product, the AFDC
officially announced several months later:
The AFDC has decided that in the future, it may invest in
films which show exceptional artistic potential, warrant
ing the corporation's support, but which would previously
have been rejected on commercial requirements. (The
commissioners) have taken this step in the interest of
developing individual Australian filmmakers and the
industry as a whole. This move follows wide-spread
criticism of the type of films backed by the organization
and more particularly, the type of film rejected by the
corporation...I56
Between Wars
Between Wars was one of the first films to be financed
by the AFDC after its change in funding policy. The script was
based on an original idea by Australian short story writer
Frank Moorhouse, who was interested in examining the phenomenon
193
of a "non-conformist professional" living in the context of a
"conventional period, like that between the wars."157
Moorhouse was also interested in psychiatry, and developed the
film's main character (Dr. Edward Treribow) from several real-
life doctors who lived and worked during this period:
I looked up the obituaries in the medical journals of the
fifties and sixties. I went through these for a number
years — and I found three or four psychiatrists who had
died in that period. I traced them back through the
issues over the years to articles they had contributed,
items of news about their careers, their involvement in
controversies, especially in psychiatry because there was
a lot of it in (this field).158
Moorhouse received funding the Commonwealth Film Unit (which
later became Film Australia) to write a treatment, and also
from Australia Council to write a first draft of the script
(originally intended for television), later showing the script
to his friend filmmaker/critic Michael Thornhill (who had
already worked with Moorhouse on three short films) and who was
able to procure $2,000 from the AFDC for further script
development or what was to become a feature film.
With a second script in hand, Thornhill approached the
AFDC several months later for more funds, and received half of
his proposed budget (approximately $150,000). Thornhill raised
the remainder of the money himself from a real estate developer
acknowledging that the initial funding from the AFDC "made it
reasonably attractive for other parties to come in."159
The film focuses on four crisis periods during the twenty
years of a doctor's life between 1918 and 1940, periods which
194
reflect greater political and social upheavals within
Australia, still under influence of social mores and political
constraints of Victorian Imperial England. Like Australia
during these two decades, Edward Trenbow fluctuates between
colonial passivity and assertive nationalism (the latter often
linked to political activism and sexual enlightenment). He
increasingly embodies the despair of a country entailed in
events beyond its control — including economic depression, a
brewing global war — yet ruled by a local repressive
government with allegiances to Britain.
Throughout the film, Thornhill uses the mise en seen as a
tableau with frequent long takes to comment on or dramatize
Trenbow's assertiveness or passivity. In the first segment of
the film, Trenbow initiates the action and dominates the shots,
thus controlling the direction of the narrative. In the next
three segments, he becomes a passive observer, as others take
charge and assume narrative control. Thenbow's passivity is
emblematic of Australia's loss of authority over its own
destiny, as he/the country experience disillusionment with
local and international events they cannot influence.
Thornhill's technique distances the spectator and places
him/her outside the narrative, encouraging him/her to view and
assess Trenbow as part of the greater context of people and
events around him. Australian critic/historian John Flaus
comments,
195
Thornhill refrains from those narrative-free one-shots
which can be placed in the interstices of the action —
usually between scenes — and which thereby induce a sense
of being admitted to the character's inner condition, e.g.
a view of him sitting on a log or at a desk with a cup of
coffee, standing on a cliff top or at a window with a
cigarette, strolling by the seashore or down the alley,
gazing at a memento or a landscape, or merely getting from
point A to point B.160
Trenbow is detached from spectator "engagement" and automatic
identification, creating a film that avoids setting up of a
traditional spectator-film relationship, thereby challenging
the spectator to actively analyze, and examine the events of
the narrative before him/her.
In the first segment, which takes place in the latter part
of 1918 England, Trenbow attends to shell-shocked soldiers
brought in from Flanders. (He is just out of medical school in
Australia, on his first Commonwealth assignment.) Sympathetic
and compassionate (in contrast to the apathetic British
doctors), Trenbow encourages the victims to talk about their
traumatic experiences in the trenches. These "unorthodox"
methods (versus traditional isolation and sedation), and even
using the word "shell-shocked," gamer severe criticism from
his British colleagues (who insist that there is nothing wrong
with the men, as there is no evidence of physical trauma).
Trenbow has a remarkable effect on the men. Assertive and
energetic, he takes an interest in each patient. As he makes
his rounds, the camera follows him, reflecting Trenbow's
control of the ward. He brings his chair closer to hear his
patients talk, and listens attentively to their tales of war
196
horrors, comforting them with a hand to their brow, or tucking
a blanket around them. His care enables several of the men to
show signs of recovering as they move about and are able to eat
again.
Trenbow's friendship with a German p.o.w. psychiatrist Dr.
Schneider (who is not a soldier) causes him to be even more
suspect, particularly when Trenbow asks Schneider to educate
him about Freud's theories in psycho-sexual development. To
the British doctors Schneider (whom they link to Germany, an
aggressor and threat to democracy) is as much a threat to their
country's welfare as the work of Freud is to their prudish
Victorian sensibilities. However, Britain appears equally
guilty of political repression, which is linked to its
atmosphere of sexual restraint, when Schneider holds a seminar
in the hospital on the sexual development of children. The
group is interrupted by the British Military Police, armed
with bayonets, who break into the room unannounced. As
Schneider stands helpless against the blackboard, they disband
the meeting seconds after Trenbow jumped up and quickly erased
the word "sex" from the board. Thenbow soon discovers that the
Australian medical profession, like that in England, is ruled
by similar prudish attitudes toward sexual development, as well
as primitive methods in treating the mentally disturbed.
Returning to Australia, in 1920, after the war is over,
Trenbow follows through on his interest in mental health, and
takes up a position in a psychiatric hospital in Sydney (which
197
begins the second segment). He is on duty, one night, when a
colleague injects a patient with malaria virus (to "cure his
psychosis"), and the patient almost dies. Trenbow is held
responsible for the institution's decision (as the guilty
colleague has fallen ill with malaria), and must stand trial
and serve as a scapegoat at a state inquiry (composed of
doctors and local judges) who will assess his competence.
During the hearing, Trenbow is surrounded by judges in front of
him, prosecutors on the side, and wary observers above in the
balcony. Motionless and speechless, Trenbow tries to defend
himself, but is overwhelmed by the "weight" of the authority
circumscribing him. Though the authorities exonerate him, they
use the inquiry question him about his "sex" research. Because
the adverse publicity generated by the case and his Freudian
studies, Trenbow relocates to a country practice, choosing a
safer vocation, that of general practitioner, which is where he
has been working for several years when the third section
begins in 1932, the worst year of the Depression.
Trenbow is now embroiled in political controversy, having
agreed to be a patron for a local co-op, composed of farmers
and fisherman who have received no relief from the government
(that refuses to buy up surplus fish or produce, or subsidize
them). The co-op, however, is singled out by a local branch of
the New Guard, a quasi-military organization (composed of
Australian World War I infantry veterans, with a Fascist
orientation,161 who perceive the co-op as a misguided Communist
198
organization. Hie New Guard's duty is to disband and eradicate
them. During a co-op sponsored picnic in the country, attended
by Trenbow, his wife, and friends of the co-op, the event is
invaded by a group from the New Guard, who thunder in on horses
(as if on a battle maneuver to liberate a territory), smashing
tables of food, trampling and beating people up. Undaunted,
the townspeople go after them with their fists, and are soon
helped by the local constable who demands that the militiamen
leave. Though he is godfather of the co-op, Trenbow stands
back from the fray, silent, motionless, his face somber. And,
though he has been an active initiator of humanitarian causes
in the past, his stance indicates his assumption of a more
minimal role, as if unable to resist or cope with the events
around him.
Trenbow's retreat from active involvement, which is aided
by his increasing dependence on alcohol, is contrasted to the
aggressive behavior of his patient Marguerite, whom Trenbow has
agreed to treat with psychoanalytic counseling. Marguerite came
to Trenbow, perceiving herself as a nymphomaniac, with a string
of one-night affairs behind her, all of which she initiated.
Using psychoanalysis, Trenbow has tried to get at the root of
her aggression. As Marguerite "recovers," by re-channeling her
libido into political activism (a more appropriate form of
expression for women at that time), Trenbow becomes more of an
observer and listener in their sessions (often nodding off
while she speaks). His passivity in his work is linked to his
199
dwindling interest in local politics. Without any resistance,
he agrees to quit his position as patron of the co-op when
urged to do so by his medical colleagues. Flanked by a doctor
on each side, he sits speechless and almost motionless, nodding
to their request, and then finalizing the deal with a shot of
brandy.
Trenbow1 s passivity parallels Australia's increasing
allegiance to Britain in the 30's, which compels the
"Commonwealth member" to join the European war on behalf of
Britain, whose security is threatened by Hitler. Working for
the pro-war Labor government in power in 1941, (and introducing
the fourth segment of the film) Marguerite re-enters the
narrative having achieved a high level position in the attorney
general's office. When Trenbow asks her to expedite the release
of his friend Schneider, who has been a visiting professor at
the University of Sydney (and again interred in a prison camp),
she refuses. She sits at her desk, which dominates the
foreground of the shot, suggesting the power she wields, almost
masking Trenbow standing in the background. When he lingers
for a second too long, she presses a button on the side of her
desk to call security, and within seconds, Trenbow is grabbed
by a uniformed security guard, who rushes through the door
behind Trenbow, and drags him out. The guard's dress is
reminiscent of that of the British M.P. 's who broke up
Schneider's seminar, only now Trenbow is helpless. Australia,
200
like its mentor Britain, uses strong-arm techniques, suggesting
political suppression against one of its own citizens.
The behavior of the guard is similar to that of the local
police (now on direct orders from the federal government) who
assume the tactics and brutality of the Fascist government that
Britain opposes. This is most drastically demonstrated during
an "Australia First" meeting, where a group of nationalists
meet to criticize Australia's entry into the European war. The
police ram through the door:
On the platform stand the conveners flanked by a hand-
lettered banner and shaky old pianist....
There is a moment of consternation and the pianist strikes
rtp 'God Save the King' (reinforcing British Australian
alliance) as the cops are abruptly brought to a halt at
respectful attention.
However, within seconds, the police begin to club and beat the
man who sets fire to his papers, as they push their way through
the crowd, grabbing people and demanding names. Standing in the
background on the periphery of the fray, is Trenbow, watching,
just as he did at the picnic, having stopped in to take a look.
Having just been silenced by a local radio station, whose
management cut him off when he tried to speak about his
reservations about Australia enter the war, he is now led away
by the police who make note of his name and address. Later,
they ransack his house, like Gestapo troopers, while his wife
and son stand by helplessly. The paranoid government soon
brands Trenbow a right wing extremist, and his wife and son
regard him as a traitor to his country.
In the final shot of the film, Trenbow does not offer any
argument when (a few days later) his son proudly announces that
he will sail to Europe to fight in the war the next day.
Trenbow only sits in his chair staring into space, after
downing his second drink. The narrative has come full circle,
with Trenbow's son reliving his father's experience of going
off to war on behalf of Britain.
Though Between Wars was received enthusiastically when it
made it's debut at the Perth Film Festival in August, 1974 (and
prompted John Flaus to write his insightful and detailed
analysis of it in Cinema Papers' ) , when it opened in Sydney a
few months later at the independent Gala theatre, it did not do
enough business to recover its costs, even though Tornhill
distributed the film himself (and later screened it in
Canberra), following the examples of Phillip Adams with Barry
McKenzie and Tim Burstall with Stork. Ironically, Between Wars
was the last film to be screened at the Gala, which was soon
tom down to make way for the construction of Greater Union's
new Pitt Centre complex (serving to demonstrate the power of
the chains to eradicate the independents).
Local audiences may have been overwhelmed by the
Thornhill's ambitious and sophisticated presentation of complex
events in British and world history that shaped Australia's
destiny. Further, Thornhill's style does make demands on the
spectator, who is asked to comprehend a broad pageant of
Australian history. Trenbow's increasingly withdrawn, passive
202
behavior that he assumes in response to the events around him,
makes him a difficult, even undesirable subject for spectator
identification, unlike the more accessible, familiar,
attractive and colorful ocker, Barry McKenzie, or even stud
Alvin Purple, who perhaps were more in tune with the nation's
self-image.
Thornhill sold the British rights to the independently
owned Cinegate (in 1974), which owned the Gate cinema in
London, where the film did modest business. Theatre owner
Barbara Stone remembers "that as an American living in London,
she had no idea of the low esteem in which Australians were
held by British intellectuals"163 until she and her husband
released the film, to hostile audiences, their response
suggesting that the British would rather perceive Australia
through the camedic ockser character (much like Australia
audiences liked to perceive themselves), rather than through
the passive, even politically subversive Trenbow.
Thornhill made three more films after Between Wars: The
F.J. Holden (1976), which focused on adolescents growing up in
Sydney suburb (The Holden is a classic Australian designed
car); Harvest of Hate (1977), an adventure thriller about an
Arab contingent training for warfare in South Australia,
defeated by Australian - Jewish guerrillas; and The Journalist
(1970) with star Jack Thompson, which examined the adventures
of a raving newspaper stud. All of these commercially oriented
films were tailored for brood-based audiences; none has the
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power and scope of Between Wars. Because the film did not do
well, very few financial organizing organizations (including
the AFC) were willing to examine political themes in Australian
history. Newsfront (1977, discussed in chapter four) explores
the 1940's and 1950's, as if a follow-up to Between Wars, yet
in this film the Australian-American dynamic is explored.
Sunday Too Far Away
Sunday Too Far Awav was the first film to receive partial
financial support from the newly created state agency, the
South Australian Film Corporation (formed in 1972), one of the
new arts-supporting organizations initiated by the recently
elected Labor government headed by state premier, Don Duns tan.
Rather than operating as a government bank, providing direct
funding like the AFDC, the SAFC functioned as a production
company (with the government as a figurehead) able to borrow
funds to finance its own projects.
Gil Brealey was head of the SAFC (appointed by Dunstan),
and had formerly worked at ABC. He was also executive producer
of Sunday, and exercised tight control throughout the writing
of the screenplay, the editing and shape of the final film,
changing its focus considerably, for he wanted his first
production to be a commercial and critical success. Writer
John Dingwall was originally under contract with the SAFC to
write the screenplay for Gallipoli (an account of Australian
assistance to the British in the Turkish campaign in 1916,
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during World War I), which was Brealey's first choice for a
project. But because of differences with Hector Crawford, (who
was going to co-produce Gallipoli), Brealey abandoned the
project, (which was later picked up by Peter Weir in 1979).
However, Dingwall was still under contract to writer a
screenplay, and he expressed an interest in doing a treatment
based on the experiences of his brother-in-law, a sheep
shearer. With a go-ahead from a rather reluctant Brealey,
Dingwall wrote up a narrative focusing on three generations of
itinerant shearers living and working on an isolated station in
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his old acquaintance (and a twenty-five year veteran), Garth,
and takes under his wing, a young man, Michael, a novice
shearer who works under Foley to learn his trade. The final
part of the treatment examines the men's participation in a
union strike (which actually happened in 1956). (The title,
Sunday Too Far Away, is derived from a shearer's wife's
"lament," a popular folk song, expressing her dismay with a
husband who can never be with her: "Friday too tired,
Saturday too drunk, Sunday too far away.")
Brealey was worried about the projected length of the film
(about three hours), and wanted the screenplay to end on, but
not include, conditions leading up to the strike. Dingwall
disagreed, feeling that the workers' strike was a necessary
climax to the film, and that it needed developing in context
with the men's work. Brealey though that a ninety minute film
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would be an ideal length (and could be sold to television for a
two hour slot if it did not far well as a feature). He had his
way, and Dingwall ended the film with one or two scenes
alluding to and "summarizing” the strike, leaving the focus of
the film on the inter-relationship among the three men, as well
as Foley's competition with Black Arthur, and his friendship
with his boss's daughter, Sheila.
When matching funds were obtained from the AFDC (which
provided ($150,000), Brealey offered the direction of the film
to his friend Ken Hannam, a former associate producer of the
ABC, and a writer-producer of television series. After a seven
week shoot, Hannam cut the picture to about two and one-half
hours, commenting,
There were not beautiful vistas (in the film), because
these men did not see beautiful vistas; rather it [exuded]
a claustrophobic atmosphere...it was a rough gutsy little
film, belonging equally to the three main characters.164
Hannam's cut was close to Dingwall's vision:
(This) job, (was) considered one of the toughest that men
perform. The primitive living conditions, the heat, the
senseless competition, all induced a kind of madness so
that men, good friends at the start of a particular shed,
loathed each other at the finish barely six weeks later.
The shearer worked like a dog, and lived like one,...
somehow this gave him a respect for himself, a tremendous
dignity.165
However, when Brealey saw Hannam's cut, he panicked,
thinking that the long, convoluted film was "a total disaster"
and would cause the end of the SAFC. He insisted that the film
be shortened considerably, and that Foley be made a "hero."166
It appeared that Brealey thought that the film's somber (if
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realistic) tone and excess of subplots could undermine its
appeal to audiences, but simplifying the narrative and re
shaping Foley's character could create an admirable portrait of
the men behind South Australia's oldest export industry (and
the basis of its economy). Further, since the government
backing the SAFC was Labor, and its leader Don Duns tan, a
particularly flamboyant radical inclined toward union causes,
Brealey must have reasoned that a film focusing on a noble
hard-working aggressive union man, would be well received by
the state government (which had been snipping away at the new
state corporation). Brealey also insisted on shifting Foley's
car crash scene from the end of the film to the beginning, so
that his progression from a washed-out self destructive bum to
union leader would not be under cut by this "regressive" act,
which was hardly a life-affirming statement.
Therefore, in the absence of Hannam (who left for London
to work for the BBC after his first cut), Brealey pressured
Hannam's editor, Rod Adamson to shorten and conform the film to
Brealey's specifications, and also remove the subplot between
Michael and Foley, and the friendship between the station
owner's daughter and the team. Adamson conceded, as Hannam was
not there to support him. Brealey's cut was 96 minutes, which
Hannam saw in London several weeks later. He was mortified,
and rushed back to Adelaide to push for the restoration of his
film. All his suggestions were vetoed by Brealey, who exerted
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his power as executive producer, and Hannam returned to London,
considering the film a loss.167
There is no way of viewing the original two and one-half
hour picture to compare the two versions, as the trims were
destroyed. But in spite of Brealey's drastic cutting, which
amounts to almost an hour, in the revised cut which examines
Foley's relationship with Garth and Black Arthur, Foley does
not emerge as a lofty idealized hero, as might have been
expected from Brealey's "tampering", but is quite human with a
sense of humor and compassion, though subject to temperamental
outbursts and obsessed with competition. Foley guides the
narrative, initiating much of the action or dialogue in almost
every shot, commanding the attention, if not the respect of the
men around him. For the Australian spectator, Foley is a
strong figure for identification, embodying a pugnacious work
ethic, rallying union solidarity, both of which fit in with the
greater context of Whitlam's nationalism (and Dunstan's
"Unionism").
Foley also has a bit of the ocker in him. Gregarious and
fun-loving, he has a passion for drinking, often to excess.
Like Barry McKenzie and Stork, he is often crude. At one
point, he tells the contractor to hold the station owner back
from invading the shed, commenting, "He's driving us all mad.
If he carries on, running up and down like a headless chook
(chicken), the place will be ankle deep in pedigree balls."
Knowing that the station owner is still peeking around the
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comer, Foley grabs a ewe, clips her hind quarters very
closely, and then turns her out with the prize rams. To the
delight of Foley and the team, the owner goes berserk thinking
that Foley has castrated his hundred dollar ram.
Foley's two ideals are Garth (also his roommate), and
Black Arthur, his arch rival. Like Garth, Foley has spent many
hours in bars gambling away all his money, yet Foley also sees
that a life-style of shearing and "pubbing" has taken its toll
on the alcoholic Garth, who has difficulty making it through an
eight-hour work-day. Neither man has a family, yet in another
part of the state lives Garth's estranged son (he was married
for a short period) whom he confesses that he has not seen in
ten years.
If Garth constantly reminds Foley of what he could became,
Black Arthur shows him what he could be. Foley aspires to be a
gun shearer, but everyday Black Arthur beats Foley, no matter
how hard he works. Arthur is experienced, efficient and quick,
yet, unlike Garth and Foley, does not drink or gamble, only
works and saves his money. Foley soon challenges Arthur to an
official shearing contest, yet he is no match for Arthur's
skill and speed (Though Foley only loses by two sheep — 57 to
Arthur's 59 — he still feels he lost badly.) Just as Black
Arthur has shown Foley his limits, Garth reminds Foley of his
mortality. For a day after Foley's defeat, Garth dies.
Grieving, Foley lifts Garth's body from the back of the pick-up
to the middle seat, as the team watches silently, reminding the
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undertaker that if he hears of the body being moved out of the
cab, Foley will "find him and take care of him."
In the next scene, Foley breaks down, his sense of
isolation reinforced by miles of barren land which surround
him. As the owner's daughter watches him and listens silently,
yet sympathetically, Foley reminisces about being an orphan,
admitting that when he was 20 he was already a gun shearer.
Perhaps now Foley realizes that he is closer to Garth and his
lifestyle than he cared to admit. (This was one scene that
Hannam emphatically stated would never come out,168 and is the
only scene left depicting the friendship between Sheila and
Foley. Her presence seems a little inappropriate during such
an intimate moment, for Foley rarely shared any of his thoughts
or feelings with her or anyone.) That evening, as if to play
out the prophecy, Foley drinks and gambles away all his money.
Yet, the next day, the sheep shearer's strike begins, in
response to the Menzies government, which announces that it
will remove the shearer prosperity bonus and also initiate a
cut in wages (to "curb inflation"). Foley pulls himself
together, and leads the men against the scabs or "blacklegs"
who have come in by train to assume the striker's jobs. The
final scenes demonstrate the men's solidarity and Foley's
ability provide leadership against the scabs.
Foley and his team of six seem outnumbered as they stand
in front of the formidable group of at least fifty men,
standing on the train's platform, towering over the small band.
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Foley strides up to the team and orders them to get back on the
train, adding "We’ll handle it." Non-plussed, the blacklegs
jump off the train and brush past Foley and the other shearers.
In the next shot, as the blacklegs walk toward the pub in the
background, the seven shearers are positioned in the foreground
of the shot, almost obscuring the scabs with their size,
suggesting their strength and unity. In the final scene, which
is in the pub, Foley leads the brawl with a punch into the jaw
of the blackleg who sneered at him. Each shearer then grabs
the nearest scab, and hits him. In the next and final shot,
Foley, facing the camera, his face covered with blood, pulls
back his a m for a punch, his gesture of defiance and
aggression held in a freeze-frame. Following this, a title
card relates the result of the strike:
The strike lasted nine months
The shearers won
It wasn't the money so much
It was the bloody insult
Brealey handled the release of Sunday very carefully,
wanting the film to establish a record of critical success
locally and abroad before releasing it commercially.169 He
entered Sunday in the 1975 Australian Film Institute Awards,
and the film won the "Golden Reel" for best feature, with Jack
Thompson receiving the best actor award, and Hannam receiving
the Department of Media award for his direction. Brealey had
shown Pierre Rissient, a French public relations director a
print of the film in June, 1974 and Rissient arranged to have
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Sunday shown to a Cannes jury in May of the following year,
and the film was chosen to be screened in the prestigious
"Director's Fortnight," which opened the festival every
year.170 Hannam, who had not planned to attend, flew in at the
last moment, walking into an enthusiastic full house.
The film was very well received; one reviewer wrote that
Sunday was "quintessentially local, which gives it a universal
tang," adding that Australia was a film industry to be
watched.171 Because of the reception of Sunday at Cannes,
world attention was focused for the first time on an Australian
(produced) film, and Sunday was invited to other festivals in
Toronto and London. It was also chosen to open the Sydney Film
Festival in June, 1975 (introducing a retrospective of classic
Australian films, including Sentimental Bloke. On Our
Selection. Forty-Thousand Horsemen. The Overlanders. and
Jedda. ) After the Sydney Film Festival, (where Thompson, the
rest of the cast and Dingwall were given a standing ovation),
Brealey and SAFC staged a lavish premiere in Adelaide, with
Roadshow also distributing the film in Sydney and Melbourne.
Sunday established strong box office appeal, paying back
investors within a year, and by 1977, grossed approximately
$550,000.
Sunday presented to Australian and overseas audiences an
admirable "underdog" character, who does not give up in the
face of overwhelming odds. For Australian audiences in
particular, Foley was emblematic of all working class
Australians resisting an oppressive, insensitive government and
management (a conflict resonating in much of Australian labor
history).
Ultimately, because of favorable critical and commercial
acclaim overseas and locally, Sunday became a "watershed" film,
giving the AFDC, the SAFC and the new Australian Film Commis
sion the confidence to invest in "a stream of thirty-one
features made over the next six years with period settings that
explored Australia's unique history and culture — many of them
using the industry's oldest and most consistent popular
environment, the bush.172 Adams and Shirley comment,
[Through these films] filmmakers presented themes,
backgrounds, and aspects of national character that no
filmmaker had previously tackled.. .The sheet number of
historical films increased the possibility that some would
interpret their period with a fresh (and Australian)
perspective that audiences and critics (would find)
appealing.173
Picnic at Hanging Rock
Picnic at Hanging Rock was an extraordinary commercial and
critical success, locally and overseas-not only the top
grossing film in 1976 in Australia, and later on one of the
most commercially successful of the decade, but a hit at
Cannes, bringing the full attention of the world to the new
Australian cinema (more modestly introduced by Sunday Too Far
Away a year prior). Because of the Cannes screening, the film
was sold to distributors representing major world markets, and
also served as the pivotal film in director Peter Weir's
career, for it was his first international commercial success.
The project began rather inauspiciously, and many times
almost fell through. In 1972, Patricia Lovell, a television
programmer for news and feature programs, read the book (by the
same title) by Joan Lindsay, published in 1969 and set at the
tum-of-the-century, which focused on the disappearance of
three boarding school girls, Miranda, Irma and Marion (and
their teacher Miss McCraw) during an outing at a popular site,
Hanging Rock. Irma is the only one found and brought back, and
Miranda's loss is felt deeply by her roommate Sarah, and
Michael, an English boy, who saw Miranda and the others scaling
the rock. Because of publicity surrounding the incident, many
parents withdraw their daughters, and the school goes bankrupt.
Principal Mrs. Appleyard is found dead at the base of the rock.
Lovell had recently seen Weir's short gothic film
Homesdale (1971) which examined the dynamics of a group of
people who spend a weekend at a resort hotel, which has a
diabolical influence on them. Lovell thought Weir's way of
handling mystery and atmosphere, and his ability to portray the
unusual beneath the typical everyday events,174 could make him
just the right director if Picnic were ever filmed. Lovell was
duly encouraged by Phillip Adams and her friends Tim Burstall
and Anthony Buckley to pursue the project, and in January,
1973, she approached Weir, who immediately agreed to direct.
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Within three months, Lovell obtained the rights for the book
from the director.
Lovell first approached the AFDC for financial assistance
for the draft of the screenplay. She was "kicked back" and
told to approach Australia Council, where a board member
informed Lovell that the project was too big for it to handle
(its maximum for projects usually short films, was $50,000).
Lovell returned to the AFDC, which reconsidered, and gave her
$1500 in September, 1973, to pay writer Cliff Green. Weir,
feeling that Lovell might have difficulties raising the money
(as she had never produced a feature before) brought in his
friends, television Hal and Jim McElroy to co-produce. However,
when the AFDC rejected the project for full funding, arguing
that the $443,000 budget was too high, the McElroy's
temporarily left the project, only to return in September,
1974, upon Weir's insistence. By that time, a "satisfactory"
draft had been completed by Green, with the assistance of Weir
and Lovell (who had borrowed another $4,000 to pay Green).
Finally, in October when Lovell was able to convince the
AFDC to put up one-third of the budget, the project had
"legitimacy," and McElroy's were able to obtain a commitment
from Greater Union (who would distribute) to match the
investment of the AFDC. Later they talked SAFC head John
Graves into putting up the final third of the budget, on the
condition that "a maximum of locations and facilities in South
Australia be used."175
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Weir stuck to the plot of the novel, emphasizing, however,
the mystical presence of the rock. The film then, operates on
two levels, political and erotic, both delicately balanced via
the "mysteries" of the film: what happened not only to the
girls, Mr. Appleyard and Michael at the rock, but also to Sara
at the Boarding school?
On the political level, the year the narrative takes place
is significant, as 1900 was only a short time before Australian
Federation (1901). The film plays out colonial Australia's
struggle to separate from and be free of the rule of Imperial
Britain, using the British-modeled boarding school and Hanging
Rock as emblems of Britain and Australia respectively. The
owner/principal of the school, Mrs. Appleyard, is raising her
middle-class charges to be respectable, well-bred and mannered
young ladies in the British tradition. Her name refers to her
British sensibilities — the French word for apple is "pomme"
and "pammie" is the Australian colloquialism for the British.
Appleyard acts like a queen in her castle-like school (the
architecture is Victorian), sweeping through the halls in her
robes of rich satin brocade, a portrait of the Queen (Victoria)
of England in her study, which serves as a reminder of her
royal aspirations. Resisting her control are the strong-willed
Miranda, Irma and Marion, who yearn to leave the repressive,
claustrophobic atmosphere of the school. Caught in the middle
is Sara, Miranda's frail orphan roommate who adores Miranda and
wishes to join her on the picnic, but who is kept behind by
216
Appleyard because she must learn the verse of the "finest of
British poets." With Sara, Appleyard plays the prison warden,
a cruel re-enactment of Australia’s early days as a colony for
English criminals, "orphaned" from their overseas families.
Away from the repressive school and domineering Mr.
Appleyard, the girls become more animated and lively, exuding a
comfort and satisfaction with being out in the bush on a warm
Indian Summer day. As the carriage approaches the rock, it
exudes an eerie foreboding presence, and soon has a powerful
influence over the picnickers, who became lethargic and nod off
to sleep, as if cast in a spell. Their watches have all
stopped at noon, as if the stage is being set for a momentous
occasion, which only Miranda, Irma and Marion know about.
Accordingly, Miranda comments, "Everything begins and ends at
exactly the right time and place." As the others nod off, the
three (followed by a curious, childlike Edith), leave the group
passing by a sedentary mannequin-like couple (actually
Michael' s British aunt and uncle), sitting motionless in hard-
backed chairs among a group of eucalyptus trees, oblivious to
the girls (they are perhaps under the same spell as the rest);
the scene, too, serves to contrast the Australian youth with
the aging British aristocracy.
As the girls move toward the rock, and be in to climb it,
they glide in slow motion, as if in a time warp, their faces
calm, confident, yet full of awe. They step to unfasten their
stockings and remove their shoes, lying down, as if the phallic
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rock is exuding a masculine force, arousing the girls, who
throw off their binding clothes, "liberated" from British
respectability and repressed sexuality (The rock has a similar
effect on Miss McCraw later, last seen by Edith running up the
rock without her underskirts.)
After a brief nap, Miranda, Irma and Marion wake up, and
resume climbing, suddenly disappearing into a huge crevasse, to
the horror of an appalled Edith, who screams for them to
return. As the girls merge with the rock, the sound track
produces a low rumbling sound, suggesting a volcanic eruption.
The girls "leap" into the 20th century and "away from the last
outpost of the Empire in the bush,1,176 implying that a new
independent Australia has been bom.
Yet Britain's agents, Michael and Mrs. Appleyard, become
obsessed with retrieving the lost colonials. Michael, who was
just a short distance away from his aunt and uncle, watched
Miranda and the others as they crossed the stream on their way
to the rock. After the girls disappear, he frantically climbs
the rock; yet lacking the girls' vision and stamina (he is
sedentary like his aunt and uncle) he cannot scale it. When he
is found by his Australian friend, Albert, (the groom to his
aunt and uncle), Michael is sitting in a daze, with bruises and
a cut on his forehead, as if the rock attacked him and threw
him out, "resisting" this representative of British occupation.
i
I
J Irma, who is also found by Albert, develops closer ties to
|
! Michael, apparently rejected, too, by the rock, for she has
J
218
similar markings on her face, and like Michael, can remember
nothing that happened. Lacking the will and insight of Miranda
and others, Irma ostensibly was not able to merge with the rock
and be transformed into a new existence, she can only return to
her former one for she "retreats'1 to Europe to join her
parents.
Unlike Michael and Irma, the Australian-born Albert is at
home in the bush; he can track the land by foot or on horse
back, and can scale the rock. Though he serves the British, he
has learned to live with them, and off them. While he and
Michael discuss the girls' disappearance, he watches the
British governor's party from a distance in a gazebo, his feet
propped casually up on a chair, guzzling a quart of beer
straight from the bottle, bragging to Michael that he is proud
that he refused to serve the governor. His subversive behavior
demonstrates his ability to co-exist with the British, yet on
his own terms.
Mrs. Appleyard struggles to hold on to her crumbling
empire, as the school's population declines, using her prisoner
Sara, as a scapegoat to vent her anger and frustration,
tormenting her with constant reminders that her tuition fees
are long overdue, first taking away her extra-curricular
activities, than her regular academic classes, until Sara,
isolated from the rest, and full of despair, completely
withdraws into her room. The "mad queen" kills her helpless
captive either by driving her to suicide, or pushing her out of
her bedroom window, as Sara is found one morning in the green
house, having crashed through the roof the night before
(Appleyard is dressed in black when the gardener brings her the
news, as if "ready" for Sara's funeral.)
Appleyard even tries to scale the rock, too, as if making
a last effort to retrieve her colonial charges. Like Michael
and Irma, she is thrown out, but she dies — a voice-over
states that her body was found at the base of the rock.
Appleyard' s death signifies the end of harsh British rule over
Australia, free of Imperial control and now ready to face a new
century of independence.
On an erotic level, Weir also focuses on the sexually
charged atmosphere of the boarding school and the rock. He has
commented,
I could have placed more emphasis on the outpost of Empire
in the bush, the invaders in an Alien landscape, the
repressive nature of the little piece of Empire, but as
the atmosphere resulting from the disappearance became my
central interest, these themes disappeared from view.177
The film opens on St. Valentine's Day, which celebrates love,
and presents two people who are strongly attracted to Miranda,
first Sara, and later Michael. Weir uses the more titillating
(and universal) theme of adolescent sexuality for broader
audience appeal, apparently not completely trusting colonial-
imperial theme to attract audiences. Indeed the maj ority of
the critical response to and subsequent analyses of Picnic,
refer to the erotic atmosphere created by the film, with its
hot-house romanticism:178 "all the elements. the heat, the
220
floral beauty, the innocence, and the hint of repressed
sexuality are brilliantly molded together in the film179...
whose true subject is sex."180
Weir was intensely worried during the editing about the
potential of the film to make its money back (At the time, it
was the most expensive film ever made — close to $500,000.)
He thus reworked the second part of the film (feeling that it
fell apart when Irma was found),181 to focus on Michael' s
attraction for Miranda, "bringing her back through his
daydreams in order to divert the attention of the audiences
from a thriller-mystery [mesmerizing] them, taking them into
another film.1,182
Picnic encourages the spectator to identify with Sara and
Michael, who perceive Miranda as their ideal object of desire,
as both are love-struck by her. Like Sara and Michael, the
spectator is held in a state of unfulfilled desire, fueled by
either lesbian love (society forbids its expression) or its
non-consummation (Miranda has left). Sara keeps Miranda alive
with her picture by her bed; Michael conjures up Miranda in his
fantasies. Like Sara and Michael, the spectator is in infinite
sexual pursuit of Miranda — his/her desire heighten by her
imagined presence.
As the film begins, Miranda is positioned as a love
object, her face in a close shot as she awakens, her complexion
glowing, her golden hair radiant with the morning sun. She
turns to face the camera and the spectator, and in the next
221
shat it is Sara who returns her smile, as she stands over
Miranda. The spectator is encouraged to look at Miranda through
Sara's eyes and identify with her. The faces of both girls
exude an "after glow" as if they have just made love. Later, to
formalize their love, Sara gives Miranda a valentine, profess
ing her undying devotion, and Miranda graciously accepts it.
Likewise, when Michael first views Sara, the spectator is
also encouraged to identify with him as he also eroticizes her.
A shot of him as he watches her and the other girls cross the
stream is followed by a shot of them as they move in slow
motion, as if he is analyzing the movement of her body as she
glides through the rays of the sun, her hair dancing in the
sunlight, her face with a hint of a smile, reminiscent of the
same blush seen in Sara's room. Albert, who is with Michael,
gives a clue to Michael's thoughts: "Built like an hour glass,
the blond. She'd have a decent pair of legs, all the way up
to her hum." Michael responds, "I wish you wouldn't talk that
way," and Albert replies, "Oh, I'm just saying what you are
thinking."
At the picnic, Miss Poitiers, the French teacher,
reinforces Miranda's role as the object of desire, when she
compares her to a "Botticelli angel", referring to the print of
"The Birth of Venus" in a book she holds. Venus stands on a
shell, surrounded by water, partially nude, her hand holding a
drape that only partially cavers her body, her smile much like
the teasing one Miranda has when she turns away. Like Venus,
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Miranda is the symbol of ideal love, but the semi-nude stance
of Venus graphically alludes to Miranda's eroticized role in
the narrative.
After Miranda's disappearance, both Sara and Michael keep
their "love" near, Miranda's presence/absence fueling their
desire. Sara spends more and more time alone, in her room,
lying in bed with Miranda's picture either on the bureau above
her, or in the sheets near Sara (as if they are lovers still)
amidst the Valentines Sara gave Miranda, fantasizing that
Miranda is really there with her in the intimacy of the
bedroom. "There you are, Miranda, dear," she says, as she
presses daisies into Miranda's book of Valentine, giving
Miranda another love token — "You like these best, my dear
sweet Miranda."
Michael dreams of Miranda (He tells Albert that he wakes
up in a cold sweat, suggesting his sexual arousal.) Yet
instead of imagining her as a Venus, he sees her as a white
swan (a symbol of fulfillment)183 that sits at the foot of his
bed, as if his sexually repressed Victorian sensibilities have
censored his erotic images of her, displacing them with a more
"acceptable" image, that of a pure white swan. We see this
process working, when the gruff authoritarian constable
demands of Michael what he was thinking of when he first saw
Miranda; Michael imagines Miranda's face, which dissolves to a
shot of a swan's body. Later, he wakes up imagining her
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beckoning to him from a place in the bush, but when he blinks
and looks again, she has been replaced by a swan.
Even when Michael has left the narrative (Consistent with
his obsession with her, he voyages north to Queensland to
contact her parents,) the spectator is still encouraged to
desire the absent Miranda through Mrs. Appleyard, who snoops
through Miranda's and Sara's room, fondling Miranda's clothes
in her drawers, lovingly touching Miranda's valentine book, and
staring affectionately at Miranda's picture on the bureau. The
film has earlier suggested that Appleyard had a lesbian attrac
tion to Miss McCraw. She confides to Miss Poitiers, "I came to
depend so much on Greta McCraw — so much masculine intellect.
How could she allow herself to be spirited away, raped,
murdered in cold blood?" So in Miss McCraw1 s absence,
Appleyard is transferring her sexual energy to Miranda, and in
a perverse way to Sara, whose death is like a rape, her body
impaled on splinters of glass and bamboo branches, suggesting a
violent climax to Appleyard's sadistic treatment of her. This
act of violence is linked to Irma's "rape" during an earlier
scene when she bids the girls farewell. The girls take out
their (sexual) frustrations on Irma just as Appleyard has
victimized Sara. Having recovered, Irma stops by during dance
class, dressed in a luxurious red velvet dress, looking more
mature and sophisticated than the "girls" around her, (who are
dressed in pigtails and white frocks) suggesting her encounter
with the rock. After a moment of silence, they unleash a
224
torrent of screams, moving in on her like a fallen pray,
hitting her and demanding, "Tell us, you know where they are,
you are going to join them." Irma bursts into tears, watched
by Sara, who is tied to a board, against the wall, her arms
outstretched, suggesting a crucifixion (The dance mistress
explains to Miss Poitier that the posturing is to straighten
her back.) Not only are both girls martyred, but they are also
objects of cruel abuse.
Because of their ferocity, these two scenes stop the
narrative through a spectacle of violence, as if the repressed
sexuality contained within the school has bubbled to the
surface, exploding in a furious and sadistic way. However,
Weir "re-adjusts" the narrative, and returns the spectator to
the calm scene of the picnic (after the brief news of Mrs.
Appleyard's death), encouraging the spectator to re-focus on
Miranda as the object of desire, taking over the role of Sara,
Michael and Appleyard.
The scene (composed of shots from the picnic seen earlier
in the film), is step printed, that is, every frame is visible:
the scene appears like a series of stills in motion, suggesting
a different state of consciousness, that of the spectator. The
camera leisurely scans the reclining girls, but finally rests
on Miranda, who smiles at the spectator and waves her hand,
Miranda then turns her head coquettishly. The back of her head
with her long wavy hair flawing, is caught in a freeze frame,
this image of Miranda "just out of reach" locking the
225
spectator's gaze. This scopic arrangement creates a "bond"
with the spectator, solving the film’s major problem (that
plagued Weir and the distributors) that audiences would be put
off by the film's lack of resolution that the girls are never
found. By returning, however, to the scene of the picnic, and
rekindling the spectator's relationship with the lost Miranda,
Weir restores the narrative's source of erotic pleasure.
Publicity for Picnic, accordingly played up the
"mysterious" atmosphere, and to intrigue audiences, Weir and
author Lindsay encouraged the public to believe that the
incident had really happened.184 (For the record, the book was
not based on an actual occurrence, and is pure fiction.) The
film worked for audiences and was a tremendous success in
Australia, and to this day, represents one of the ten most
commercially successful Australian films ever made.
As mentioned before, the film was a hit overseas.
Although it was not chosen to run in official competition at
Cannes, it was screened several times,185 and became one of the
most popular films that year; rights were sold to 37 countries,
including Britain, where reception "verged on the
spectacular."186 Ironically, Picnic was not initially marked
in England as an Australian film. Though ocker Adventures of
Barrv Mckenzie and its sequel had played with good commercial
results, the distributor wanted to avoid having Picnic linked
in any way with them.
226
Picnic was not sold to United States distributors until
the success of Weir's next film, The Last Wave (1979). Picnic
had been invited to the Los Angeles Film Festival in 1977, but
the AFC declined, reasoning the screening of the film might
harm commercial sales.187 This decision may have delayed
American sales, as many films screened at Filmax were often
sold directly to distributors shortly thereafter.
Picnic instilled the newly formed AFC with confidence, and
many of the period films the commission eagerly funded from
1975-1980 continued to explore Australian conflicts with
Britain as well as the internal tensions within Australian
society. (Six of the these films are examined in the next
chapter.)
The rest of the AFDC period films, Barrv McKenzie Holds
His Own, the Hexagon films, Scobie Malone, were all commercial
ventures, each one capitalizing on a particular vehicle to
appeal to audiences, either the ocker character (Barrv
McKenzie f Petersen), soft core pornography (Alvine Purple) or a
well-known American genre (Alvin Rides Again and Scobie
Malone).
Hexagon Productions
Hexagon was established in 1972 with the profits from
Stork, and was composed of four partners, Tim Burstall (holding
25 percent of the company), his associates from 2.000 Weeks and
Stork. Bilcock and Copping (who held another 25 percent), and
227
Roadshow Distributors (who held 50 percent). Bur stall decided
to launch the company with a sex comedy188 and imitate the
popular and profitable Danish soft core pom films, without,
however, consciously trying to examine inherently Australian
themes. Alvin Purple (co-written and directed by Brustall
himself) focuses on the adolescence and early adult years of
boyish Alvin (played by stage actor Graham Blundell) who is
irresistible to all women. In college he is relentlessly
pursued by classmates on their bikes, and seeks refuge in the
arms of the wife of one of his professors (his first sexual
encounter). After he graduates, he works as a water bed
salesman, barely able to set up the apparatus before housewives
pounce on him. He even practices "sex therapy" helping
inhibited (and voluptuous) young women to overcame their fear
I
of sexual contact. The staple of this episodic and loosely j
structured film is Alvin "having it on" with all sorts of J
women, the playful bedroom roups characterized by full frontal j
i
nudity and simulated intercourse.
Burstall opened Alvin on Christmas, 1973, in Sydney and
Melbourne with Roadshow distributing (but through a deal with
Hoyts used the chain’s larger theatres in key suburb and city
locations). Alvin was the runaway commercial hit of the year,
returning $202,000 in 24 days,189 (the cost of making the
film). By the end of 1979, Alvin had grossed $4,000,000,
becoming the most commercially successful of all Australian
produced films form 1971-1979.
i
228
Like most pornography, the film was geared for male
audiences who identified with Alvin, sharing his sexual
exploits with a variety of sex partners, which made the film a
perfect male-wish fulfillment fantasy. Its release overseas in
Britain, (where it did good box-office), prompted British
critic Derek Elloy to comment that the film acted as a "playing
out" of a sexual release that "most national cinemas went
through in the 60's" but delayed in a country whose censorship
system prevented this expression until late 1971.190
Critical reception at home was quite different. Critics
were appalled by Alvin's inherent sexism: one particularly
offensive scene singled out was a full great breasted woman
wearing a T-shirt which read "Women should be obscene and not
heard." Like Barrv McKenzie. Alvin was also criticized for the
nature of the national image it was projecting. John Tittensor
commented in Cinema Papers:
There is no question of Alvin Purple making any kind of
contribution to the cultural life of this country at any
level, because it is a film which seeks to exploit, never
to enrich. Any modem film industry that seeks to
establish itself on this kind of foundation is selling
itself and its public very short indeed.191
Another local critic argued that the film deliberately denied
its origin, what he called "de-antipodeanization."192
("Antipodes" a term referring to a place on the other side of
the earth, i.e. Australia). Along this line, Alvin is
reminiscent of the American film, The Graduate 193 (1969), with
Alvin exuding many of the traits of Benjamin (played by Dustin
229
Hoffman) — shy, boyish, attractive to older women; at least
two women assume the "predatory" Mrs. Robinson role. Or, as
Burstall himself has pointed out, Alvin is similar to the
professional stud Alfie1^4 (in the 1966 British film by the
same name, starring Michael Caine), though Alvin is not the
self-centered, often cruel man Alfie is.
Undaunted by critics and encouraged by Alvin's spectacular
success, Burstall made a sequel a year later, entitled Alvin
Rides Actain. (directed by Bilcok and Copping, produced by
Hexagon), still featuring Graham Blundell as the diminutive
boy-man, alluring to women. Yet in this film, Alvin assumes
the guise of an American gangster, when his look-alike, "Balls
McGee" is accidentally shot by one of his own henchman, and
Alvin must fill in for the dead Balls, until he can tie up a
business deal with an international mobster. (Blundell plays
both roles.) Alvin must learn to speak "American" talking with
the Brooklyn accent, through a cigar in his mouth, acting like
classic gangsters James Cagney and Edward G. Robinson. Alvin
is stiff in his new role, and lacks the ease he had playing the
young stud, awkwardly making the transition to gangster, often
sounding the Godfather Marlon Brando (complete with cotton in
jowls). The narrative is propped up by Alvin/Balls chased by
German gangsters (in Monte Carlo, on a ship in the Atlantic
Ocean) and gratuitous scenes of him performing in bed
consecutively for his three molls.
230
Alvin Rides Again was made on a budget of $300,000, and
though distributed by Roadshow in all major cities, it only
grossed $666,000, a disappointing figure by the standards of
the original. It's as if the Australian spectator was not
comfortable with the ambiguity of the Alvin character, and
resisted identifying with the "ill at ease" Australian acting
like an American. Further, the film lacked many of the
numerous sex scenes of the original which enhanced the
original's attraction and reputation, so audiences may have
also been disappointed that the sequel did not live up the
"erotica" of Alvin Purple.
Petersen
After the relative failure of Alvin Rides Again. Burstall
returned to the ocker in Petersen (with Hexagon producing, and
scripted by Stork writer, David Williamson. Burstall, who
directed, cast Jack Thompson to play the lead role (Thompson by
that time had cornered the ocker with his supporting perform
ance in Wake in Fright, and a central role in The Family Man196
in which he played a cocky, philandering husband.) Tony
Petersen, (in his early 30 's) a former football star now
earning a living as an electrician, is weary of his ocker
lifestyle and anti-intellectual working class mates. He quits
his job to go to college to improve himself and work on a
degree. Like Stork and Barry McKenzie, Petersen is brash and
aggressive, but he has settled down, and is married with two
231
children, (however, not adverse to having affairs). The
central relationship in the film is the affair between Petersen
and his college tutor in English literature, Patricia, who is
sophisticated, educated and attractively middle-class, for
Petersen an ideal British model. Unlike Barry McKenzie who
made fun of the British, and used every encounter with them to
prove his superiority, Petersen wants to conform to the British
ideal. His association with Patricia gives him the "class" he
desires. Likewise, she is attracted to his ocker brashness and
rugged virility (and bored with her stuffy aristocratic British
husband, Charles).
Petersen can never completely leave his lower-class roots
and ocker sensibilities behind. His participation in classes
is often half-hearted, and he dabbles in one-night stands with
his female classmates (as if meeting women is his only reason
for attending.) Like Stork, he is bad-tempered, and cannot
resist a good brawl, and single handedly takes on a gang of
bikers, who crash the 21st birthday of one of his female
classmates, something a British gentleman would never do.
j Likewise, Patricia realizes that she could never permanently
| pair up with a working class Australian. Her decision to
j accept a teaching job at Oxford, demonstrates her need to live
| in a culture where she will be more at home. Her decision to
!
j leave him reminds Petersen of his ocker roots and perhaps his
j inferiority to her. His rape of her in revenge for her
I
j leaving is an attack on "Mother England" and the British class
232
system (which leaves Australia on the bottom rung of the social
economic ladder). Petersen's decision to return to his job and
his wife, re-affirms not only his independence of British ties
but also his ocker life style.
Distributors Roadshow, believed they had a "downer" on
their hands because of the film's shifting to a more serious
tone at the end, so they decided to play up and publicize the
film's many sex scenes, including Petersen's nude ramps with
Patricia and his love scenes with her and other women. They
also capitalized on Petersen's ocker image. The publicity tag
line read-"What happens to Tony Petersen could only happen to
someone who loves life.. .but who really gives it a hell of a
beating."197 The campus setting was not mentioned (as if local
audiences might think the film too highbrow). Roadshow's
strategy paid off, and Peterson became a highly popular film
within a year, grossing almost $2,000,000. Local audiences re
affirmed their acceptance of the ocker ideal, who makes clean
breaks with British ties (like Barry McKenzie), resolutely and
tenaciously re-affirming his own unique Australian identity.
Scobie Malone
Scobie Malone (1975), like Alvin Rides Again, tried to
capitalize on a popular American genre, in this case the
detective thriller (which was experiencing a rebirth in the
1970's with films such as Chinatown. Night Moves, and The Long
Goodbye). The film was scripted by veteran Hollywood script-
233
writer, Casey Robinson, retired in Australia, who had written
scripts for Bette Davis in Dark Victory (1939) and Now Voyager
(1942). Malone was a star vehicle for Jack Thompson; as Malone,
he investigates the murder of a prostitute involved in a drug
smuggling racket. Like Graham Blundell as Alvin, playing an
American gangster, the burly, blond Thompson looks uncomfort
able playing an American "type1 1 (which seems modeled after the
Jack Nicholson character in Chinatown), yet Thompson lacks
Nicholsons cynicism and intensity. David Stratton commented
that the bright Eastman color is at odds with the film noire
theme195 as if the sunny streets of Australia in the 19701 s
could hardly exude corrupt atmosphere of post-World War II or
post-Watergate America. The AFDC invested one-third of the
$300,000 budget (with the rest coming from private investors),
and the film did not return its production costs, failing to
attract local audiences. Like Alvin Rides Again, the
Australian spectator presumably felt ill at ease with an
Australian acting like an American.
Barry McKenzie Holds His Own
Because of the success of Adventures of Barrv Mckenzie.
producer Phillip Adams began planning a sequel within a few
months of Barry's release. But by the time co-writers Barry
Humphries and Bruce Beresford acquired funding a year later in
January, 1974 from television financier Reg Grundy, Adams had
became involved in another project. Beresford only agreed to
234
direct the sequel because Grundy agreed to later fund another
film that Beresford wanted to direct, The Getting of Wisdom
(based on the autobiographical novel by Henry Richardson,
focusing on a girl's boarding school). The narrative of Barrv
McKenzie Holds His Own again focuses on the adventures abroad
of Barry and his Aunt Edna, but much of the action takes place
outside England. Edna is kidnapped in Spain by vampires, who
mistake her for the Queen of England, as she is dressed in a
regal white formal dress, carrying her off to their palace in
Transylvania with plans to place her on display and charge the
public admission. Essentially the theme of the "insulting
Aussie in Pommieland" turns into a parody of a horror film,
with Donald Pleasance playing "Count Plasma" (often acting like
Bela Lugosi in Universal's 1930 classic Dracula. or Christopher
Lee in 1966 British Hammer film, Mark of the Vampire). When
the Count discovers that Edna is not really the Queen, he locks
her up in the basement and hooks her up to a blood draining
machine. From this point on, the film becomes schizophrenic.
On the one hand, it endorses a new "helping hand" attitude
toward the British, for Barry saves "Queen Edna" from the
vampires, and in doing so, preserves her royal rule over
Australia, reinforcing British authority over the "colony."
Further, because of his rescue, Barry is regarded as a hero in
England, and the government off era free repatriation to all
Australians living in England. Barry, however, chooses to
return to Australia (and Edna is relieved that they do not have
235
to flee England again as they did after all Barry's antics in
Adventures of Barrv McKenzie), Barry is given a hero's welcome
at the Sydney Airport amidst cheering crowds, even embraced and
congratulated by a beaming Gough Whitlam (who plays himself).
By saving the "Queen" Barry has re-established friendly ties
between England and Australia.
On the other hand, Barry lashes out against Britain when
he is incarcerated for not carrying his passport upon his
return from Spain to round uqp a posse of his friends to save
his aunt. Categorized as an illegal immigrant, Barry soon
"sets the record straight" about Australia and Britain,
screaming in ocker slang from his cell:
Our fighting men came over here when you Poms were ready
to throw in the towel. Musso and their slimy elements
would have flatted this dump if it weren' t for my uncles
and their superlative fighting spirit.. .And if it hadn't
been for the Australians, Musso and them slanty-eyed
pricks would have strung up every which kid and gone
chocka-block with all the nurses and conductresses.
Barry's vindictive assessment of the British is quite
unexpected in the context of his 1 'humanitarian'1 act towards to
"Queen."
Barrv McKenzie Holds His Own premiered in Sydney under the
release of Roadshow at the Ascot theatre (where the original
had opened), but it did not have nearly the appeal of the
original, though gradually making its original investment of
$300,000 back, and going into profit in a few years. The film
lacks a clear position on Mother England, (a stance that the
original McKenzie film foregrounded), and the spectator
236
receives mixed messages. Though Barry is not displaced to a
"foreign" identity (as ’ was Alvin Purple), the ocker has lost
his purity and clout. Perhaps the filmmakers played it safe
with Barry in light of the response of the majority of critics
who deemed the original an embarrassment to the Australian
national image. The film remains, then, an uneasy compromise
between pro- and anti-British sentiments.
By the end of the AFDC period, Australian audiences had
demonstrated that they preferred the ocker character, either
opposed to the British, as in Adventures of Barrv McKenzie and
Petersen (and disapproving somewhat of Barry's ambivalence
toward the British in Barrv McKenzie Holds His Own), or
exhibiting anarchistic behavior by rebelling against the
Australian establishment in Stork. Or they favored a
"combination" of ocker-laborer ideals, as union members resist
management and government in Sunday Too Far Awav. Further,
Australian spectators also expressed a fascination with
adolescence and sexuality in Alvin Purple and Picnic at
Hanging Rock, rejecting however, the passive Australian in
Between Wars, and American "infiltration" of the Australian
imaginary, as in Alvin Rides Again and Scobie Malone. With a
new government agency intending to appeal to overseas audiences
with a "worthy" product, the question in 1975 was how local
spectator preferences would be reconciled with the new policy
of the Australian Film Commission.
Whitlam Sacked
237
Whitlam's problems with the Media Ministry and McClelland
were minor compared to the dilemmas his government faced during
his second term in 1974-75 — an economic recession and a
hostile Senate (the same Senate that had assailed the AFC
Bill). Whitlam's massive government expenditures during his
first term, which were necessary to cover his reforms and
welfare programs, had only added to the country's inflation,
rising to four percent per year. Further, unemployment was up
to about three percent of the work force. The government had
tried to pass a referendum giving it the power to fix wages and
prices, but in a nationwide poll, the electorate turned it
down.
In May, 1974, the Senate refused to pass four key pieces
of legislation: 1) two bills providing for a comprehensive
national health scheme, Medibank, (bitterly contested by
private doctors who feared their schedule of payments would
drop); 2) a bill to reform the electoral boundaries, making all
six sections roughly equal in population, the other giving
electors in the Northern Territory (heavily Aboriginal) and the
Capitol Territory a vote in Senate elections; 3) a bill to
facilitate the amalgamization of small unions into larger ones
(resisted by Liberal Coalition which felt threatened by the
power of Labor); 4) a bill appropriating Commonwealth ownership
238
of coastal sea beds, which would give the government control
over and revenues from all seabeds.
To make natters worse, the Senate also threatened to
withhold funds to keep the government running. According to
the Constitution, in such a "deadlocked" situation, the Prime
Minister would call for a "double dissolution" of Parliament,
meaning that he would arrange for House and Senate elections as
well as one for the Prime Minister. A national election was
set for the end of May, and Whitlam was returned to power, for
inflation had recently fallen off by a percentage point, and
the country expressed its continuing confidence in the Whitlam.
Labor, however, lost one seat in the House (still maintaining a
majority), but gained one in the Senate (the liberal coalition
was still in control). However, when the new Parliament met
August 6, the Senate still refused to pass the legislation. As
per constitutional policy, a simple majority of all members of
Parliament was all that was needed to pass the legislation.
Labor had a majority, and all four bills finally passed.
In November, Whitlam took measure to relieve the effects
of the recession (essentially pump-priming procedures),
instituting a regional employment development scheme, and tax
relief boards to help companies in trouble. In spite of his
efforts, unemployment still increased, and inflation was up
another 15 point by January, 1975, even though the government
had restricted its spending. Government support was very low.
239
However, under its new leader, Malcolm Fraser, the Liberal
coalition was re-organizing.
As discussed earlier, Fraser had begun his bid for power
in 1970 When he had forced a vote of confidence among
Parliament members which caused the ousting of Gorton. Since
that time, Fraser had been garnering support among Liberal
colleagues within Parliament Who admired his polish,
intelligence and aggressiveness. Although Fraser had stated
that a twice elected government (in December, 1972, and May,
1974), should be allowed to govern for its full term of three
years,198 and that he would never force and election by with
holding supply, this is precisely the action he took.
Fraser used the Rex Connor affair to convince the Senate
that this "reprehensible circumstance" gave the Senate no
choice but to withhold government monies. Since the beginning
of 1975, Rex Connor, Minister for Mines and Energy had been
making inquiries on behalf of the Australian government about
raising loans from overseas bankers (primarily old rich Middle
East Sheiks) to buy out overseas interest (American and
Japanese) held in Australia; these inquiries were all part of a
plan to regain ownership of Australian oil and mineral
industries. Connor had been chided by Whitlam to stop
inquiring, for the massive amounts he had been requesting in
loans ($20-40 billion) had leaked to the press, making the
public nervous about the new plan to borrow money from Arabs,
ostensibly making the country dependent on the Middle East.
240
Connor pursued inquiries after his authority to do so had been
withdrawn by Whitlam in April, "though not a cent of public
money ever changed hands.1 ' 199 Connor's continuing involvement
in loan inquiries was soon singled out by Fraser as sufficient
to withhold government supply monies in the Senate, and the
government began to run out of money in November, 1975.
Governor General Sir John Kerr was called to intervene in this
"crisis," his role to serve as chief arbitrator in government
impasses. Kerr was heavily influenced by Fraser (though Kerr
had originally been appointed by Whitlam), who told Kerr that
if another election were called, "Australia's future would be
permanently changed in Labor were to win control in the Senate
and the House."200 Instead of asking the Senate to do its
duty, and pass the bills, and, if it refused, ask the Prime
Minister's advice, which would have been to call an election
for half the Senate (which would be happening anyway in a few
months), Kerr dismissed Whitlam and placed the Prime
Ministership in the hands of "caretaker Minister Fraser,"
pending a general election to follow a double dissolution of
both House of Parliament. Though the Australian Constitution
gave the Governor General the power to dismiss a Ministry or
Minister, (not mentioning, however, the specific circumstances
or guidelines),201 Kerr's action was unprecedented in the
history of Australia. Clearly, (as Ward and other historians
have pointed out) Fraser used the Connor affair to deadlock the
Senate and achieve his own political aspiration — head of the
241
Australian government.
After Fraser was installed, the Senate rapidly passed the
supply bills, alleviating the crisis, and a general election
was set for December 13. Fraser led a Liberal campaign that
promised a "retrenchment in government spending, with massive
subsidies and incentives to farmer and businessmen which would
cure inflation and employment."202 The Conservative papers
were bombarded by stories partial to Liberals attesting to job
labor government incompetence, bungling and corruption.203
Hence, the public assumed that Kerr's action had been correct,
and that a change in government was necessary to bring them
relief from economic problems and an irresponsible Labor
administration: the electorate overwhelmingly voted for the
Liberal coalition, which now held majorities in both houses.
Fraser was the new Prime Minister.
Within a few months, the Fraser government had rescinded
many of Whitlam's reforms, legislating massive cuts in spending
for Aborigines, the unemployed, the poor, women's causes,
education and the arts. Consistent with liberal policy, Fraser
instigated increases in defense-spending, and allowances to
business and farming interests. Ward comments,
So Australia entered the last quarter of the twentieth
century again governed, as she had been for most of its
course, by a Coalition primarily concerned with resisting
or minimizing the change and with preserving or maximizing
the possessions of the rich.204
However, whatever Fraser did to diminish reforms in the arts,
he could not change the AFC Bill, its policy or budget.
242
Notes
1Ina Bertrand and Diane Collins, Government and Film in
Australia (Sydney: Currency Press, 1981), 150.
2Australian Film Development Corporation Annual Report
(Canberra, Australian Government Publishing Service, 1971), 2.
3Brian Adams and Graham Shirley, Australian Cinema: The
First Eighty Years (Sydney: Angus and Robertson, 1980), 242.
4Adams and Shirley, 242.
Australian Film Development Corporation Annual Report,
1971, 2.
^Russell Ward, The History of Australia. The Twentieth
Century (New York: Harper and Row, 1977), 388.
7Ward, 387.
Sward, 391.
%ard, 391.
10Ward, 391.
11David Stratton, The Last New Wave: The Australian Film
Revival (Sydney: Angus and Robertson, 1980), 13.
12Bertrand and Collins, 153.
13Bertrand and Collins, 152.
14Paul Beale, ed., Dictionary of Slam and Unconventional
English (New York: MacMillan, 1984), 1390.
15A larrikan is an Australian term for a boisterous, rowdy
rude male. Hogan moved from television to international
commercials sponsored by the Australian Consulate, and made his
feature film debut in 1985 with Crocodile Dundee, playing a
rather subdued ocker character.
16Beale, 1390.
17Harry Oxley, Australian Popular Culture (Sydney: Oxford
University Press, 1984), 193.
243
18Andrew Pike and Ross Cooper, Australian Film 1900-1977. A
Guide to Feature Film Production (Melbourne, Oxford University
Press, 1980), 340.
19A1so screening at Cannes that year was another film about
Australia, Walkabout (financed by the American studio,
Twentieth Century Fox, and directed/photographed by British
filmmaker, Nicolas Roeg). Like Wake in Fright. Walkabout
focused on a purely Australian theme, the uneasy relationship
between contemporary Aborigines and white Australians. If Wake
is ruthlessly brutal in its depiction of outback life, then
Walkabout uses a romantic mode to evoke the magical qualities
of the land and its agent, the young Aborigine featured in the
film. Like Kotcheff, Roeg examines the effects of an
encroaching white civilization destructive to itself and to the
environment, but Roeg extends this dynamic one step further to
include another set of victims, the peaceful Aborigines.
20Peter Cowie, ed., International Film Guide (New York:
MacMillian Press, 1975), 53.
21Bertrand and Collins, 147.
22Stratton, 22.
23Cultural cringe is a term first coined by Phillip Adams,
referring to an Australian inferiority complex to mentors
Britain and America, who seem superior in every way to
Australia and Australians.
24Thev're a Weird Mob netted $3 million from Australian
screenings, but distributor Greater Union took 80 percent of
the proceeds, leaving only $500,000 for the film's producers.
This was one reason Adams, Burstall and Thornhill chose to
directly distribute their films.
25Rod Bishop, Lumiere. November, 1973, 13.
26Bishop, 14.
27Bishop, 14.
28Barrie Patterson, Film. January, 1974, 15.
29Stratton, 44.
30Pike and Cooper, 325.
33A bunyip is a mythical animal, a cross between a rabbit
and a kangaroo.
32Stratton, 44.
33Stratton, 45.
34Pike and Cooper, 340.
35Australian Film Development Corporation Annual Report
(Canberra, Australian Government Publishing Service, 1973-74),
13.
3®Stratton, 44.
37Bertrand and Collins, 157.
38The Village Theatres Group began with drive-ins,
gradually moving into "hard-top1 1 cinemas. During the 60's
Greater union purchased one-third interest in Village, though
the two companies were in competition. By early 1975, the
company owned approximately 85 cinema houses and drive-ins.
Village's allied Roadshow was established in 1968 in order to
acquire access to overseas films, consisting of Roadshow Inter
national (handling the franchise for Warners) and Roadshow dis
tributors (handling films bought from independent producers).
The films purchased by Roadshow reflected a greater diversity
of world production than those of Hoyts and Greater Union.
After 1969, Roadshow virtually outstripped its rivals in the
number of feature films it handled. Roadshow provided films to
both Village and GUO, and in turn, had access to films
distributed through or in association with the Rank
Organization.
39Private Collection after a premiere, had a run of three
weeks.
40Co-ops are local organizations supported by filmmakers
and activists seeking to provide alternative means of
distribution.
4Australia Council funded all cultural activities, but
gave several small grants to filmmakers.
42The other film was Between Wars.
43Pike and Cooper, 336.
44Pike and Copper, 336.
45Adams and Shirley, 246.
4Melbourne Age, September 8, 1971, 23.
245
47Tariff Board Report: Motion Picture Filins and Television
Programs (Canberra, Australian Government Publishing Service,
1973), 41.
48Tariff Board Report. 41.
49Tariff Board Report. 41.
50Adams and Shirley, 247.
51Tariff Board Report. 40.
52Adams and Shirley, 248.
53Bertrand and Collins, 156.
54Tariff Board Report. 23.
55Tariff Board Report. 23.
56Adams and Shirley, 249.
57Adams and Shirley, 249.
58Sons of Matthew. 1947, Sunstruck. 1962, and City’s Child.
1972.
59Bertrand and Collins, 157.
63Adams and Shirley, 248.
64Tim Burstall never received funding from the AFDC, except
for a small loan ($2,000) for his script development for Alvin
Purple, which was paid back before the film's release. He was
tired of having his projects "kicked back" so with the forma
tion of his own production company, he had the independence he
wanted. Hexagon lasted from 1972-1977.
65Tariff Board Report. 64.
66Tariff Board Report. 64.
67Australian Exhibitor. November 13, 1969.
68Showman. February 2, 1970.
69Adams and Shirley, 248.
70Bertrand and Collins, 157.
246
71Scott Murray, ed., The New Australian Cinema. (Melbourne:
Nelson Press, 1980), 133.
72Tariff Board Report. 36.
73Tariff Board Report. 23.
74Tariff Board Report. 33.
75Tariff Board Report. 33.
76Adams and Shirley, 249.
77Ward, 394.
78Ward, 399.
79This practice has carried on to present day. There are
no private universities or colleges in Australia. All tertiary
education is subsidized by the state and federal governments.
Students receive stipends and allowances for living.
80Ward, 403.
8%ard, 403.
82Tariff Board Report. 14.
83Tariff Board Report. 47.
84Tariff Board Report. 13.
85Tariff Board Report. 13.
86Tariff Board Report. 13.
87Tariff Board Report, 23.
88Tariff Board Report. 22.
89Tariff Board Report. 23.
90Tariff Board Report. 23.
91Tam O'Reagan, "Australian Film Making: Its Public
Circulation," Framework. 22/23, 33.
92Tariff Board Report. 19.
93Tariff Board Report. 20.
247
94Tariff Board Report. 20.
95Tariff Board Report, 20.
96Tariff Board Report. 47.
97Tariff Board Report. 20.
98Tariff Board Report. 21.
"Tariff Board Report. 21.
l°°Tariff Board Report. 40.
101Tariff Board Report, 22.
102Tariff Board Report. 22.
103Tariff Board Report. 22.
104Adams and Shirley, 252.
lOSfiarrett Hodsden, Cinema Papers. January 1974, 37.
lO&Tariff Board Report. 46.
107Hodsden, 37.
108Tariff Board Report. 8.
109Whitlam's other 27 Cabinet members, like McClelland,
operated with his full trust and an independent status.
Whitlam was often out of touch with his large Cabinet, naively
believing that they operated in Australia's best interests.
Cabinet was the site of many leaks to the press, the most
serious of which contributed to Whitlam's downfall— the Rex
Connor mineral affair.
111Bertrand and Collins, 162.
112ijhis organization made up of all major American
production and distribution companies, including Paramount,
MQYI, Universal, Warners, Twentieth Century Fox, Columbia,
represents a powerful lobby on behalf of the interests of
American film companies.
113Adams and Shirley, 250.
114Adams and Shirley, 250.
115Bertrand and Collins, 165.
248
116Adams and Shirley, 250.
1170'Reagan, 35.
118Letter to the author from an anonymous source.
119Bertrand Collins, 166.
120Adams and Shirley, 271.
12-'-Adams and Shirley, 271.
1220'Reagan, 36.
1231he Melbourne Age. April 11, 1975, 1.
124The Australian. April 12, 1975.
125Adams and Shirley, 272.
32®Bertrand and Collins, 167.
1271his was the only distribution/exhibition recommendation
from the Tariff Board Report to survive Cabinet dismantling.
128Bertrand and Collins, 167.
129Bertrand and Collins, 169.
130Bertrand and Collins, 169.
131CReagan, 35.
132Australian Film Commission Act (Canberra: Australian
Government Publishing Service, 1975), 6.
133Australian Film Commission Act. 7.
134Australian Film Commission Act. 7.
135Australian Film Commission Act. 8.
136Australian Film Commission Act. 7.
137Adams and Shirley, 272.
138The Australian. April 16, 1975, 2.
l39The Australian. 2.
140Adams and Shirley, 273.
249
141rhe Australian. April 16, 1975.
142Report of the Interim Board of the Australian Film
Commission (Canberra, Australian Government Publishing Service,
February 14, 1975), 6.
143Interim Board Report. 7.
144Interim Board Report. 8.
145Interim Board Report. 15.
146Figures compiled from Pike and Cooper's Australian
Cinema: The First Eidhtv Years. 100-102.
- * - 47Letter to the author from an anonymous source.
148Interim Board Report. 12.
149Interim Board Report. 41.
151Australian Film Commission Policy Statement (Canberra,
Australian Government Publishing Service), 1975, 2.
152Australian Film Commission Policy Statement. 2.
153Australian Film Commission Policy Statement. 3.
154Australian Film Commission Policy Statement. 3.
155Australian Film Commission Policy Statement. 3.
156John Darling, Lumiere. August, 173, 4.
157Cinema Papers. April, 1974, 139.
158Cinema Papers. 139.
159Cinema Papers. 142.
160Cinema Papers. December, 1974, 367.
161Ward, 194.
162Cinema Papers. December, 1974, 362.
163Stratton, 88.
164Stratton, 101.
165Stratton, 101.
250
156Stratton, 102.
167Stratton, 102.
168Stratton/ 104.
169Pike and Cooper, 364.
170This was the first year that the AFDC and Media
Department organized an official delegation to Cannes,
sponsoring several films, Sunday being the only one to be
officially shown. Other Australian produced films were screened
for potential buyers: The Man from Horn Kona. Stone. Petersen.
171Edward Moskowitz, Variety. May 16, 1976, 18.
172Cinema Papers. July-August, 1975, 154.
173Adams and Shirley, 277.
174Cinema Papers. March-April, 1976, 299.
175Stratton, 69.
176Jan Dawson, Sight and Sound. Spring, 1976, 83.
177Dawson, 83.
178Stratton, 72.
179Stratton, 72.
180Tam Milne, Monthly Film Bulletin. January, 1976, 257.
181Stratton, 70.
182Stratton, 70.
183Anne Crittendon, Meanjin, Winter, 1976, 167.
184Plke and Cooper, 367.
185The Australian Film Commission handled publicity and
sales, aided by Lovell and the McElroy's.
186Stratton, 73.
187Stratton, 72.
188Stratton, 29.
251
189Stratton, 30.
190Derek Elloy, Filins and Filiriim, July 1974, 45.
191John Tittensor, Cinema Papers. September, 1974, 21.
192Stan Anson, lumiere. November, 1973, 14.
193Stratton, 30.
194Anson, 14.
195Literally, "blade film" — a style and genre of
filmmaking appearing in American films in the early 40's,
exuding rich black and white photography, usually focusing on
the violent underworld of crime and its perpetrators in an
urban environment, examining the darker sides of men and women.
196One of a four-part, two-hour film, produced by the
Melbourne branch of the Producers and Directors Guild, (with
financial aid from Australia Council).
197Stratton, 31.
198Ward, 414.
199Ward, 415.
200Ward, 415.
201Marie Clark, Meaniin. no. 1, 1970, 56.
202Ward, 416.
203Meaniin. 57.
204Ward, 418.
I
J
THE AUSTRALIAN FILM RENAISSANCE, 1970-86
AN IDEOLOGICAL, ECONOMIC AND POLITICAL ANALYSIS
by
Susan Torrey Barber
Volume II
A Dissertation Presented to the
FACULTY OF THE GRADUATE SCHOOL
UNIVERSITY OF SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA
In Partial Fulfillment of the
Requirements for the Degree
DOCTOR OF PHILOSOPHY
(Cinema — Critical Studies)
May 1988
Chapter Four
Throughout the six-year period after the establishment of
the Australian Film Commission (July, 1975-June, 1981),
approximately 60 films were produced wholly or in part by the
Commission. Six of these films will be examined in this
chapter, which most dramatically play out the Imperial-colonial
dynamic: five focus on the historical British-Australian
relationship, which is reflected on the domestic level in terms
of gender and race. The sixth film signals the end of the
British period and the beginning of Australia’s new relation
ship with Imperial United States. These six films also best
demonstrate the cultural and artistic goals of the Commission:
"quality" films foregrounding Australian themes and exempli
fying excellence in craft and technology.
Caddie and My Brilliant Career (1979), focus on women
resisting their positioning in patriarchal society during
Depression years and tum-of-the-century (respectively), Career
also working in the larger context of Australia opposing
British domination. Chant of Jimmie Blacksmith (1978) and The
253
Last. Wave (1979) examine white Australian-Aborigine tensions at
the turn of the century and in the present, Blacksmith
comparing these internal conflicts to the greater Australian-
British dynamic, as Australian soldiers are called upon to
fight in another British Imperial war in South Africa-the
subject of Breaker Morant. Newsfront (1978) focuses on a new
chapter in Australian history during the post-World War II
years, as the United States assumes a dominant role in shaping
Australian politics and foreign policy, as well as American
izing native Australian culture.
This chapter will examine in detail the ideology inscribed
within these films in terms of the colonial-imperial dynamic,
as well as their impact on the development of the native
industry.
C addie
caddie was one of the first government-backed films of the
Renaissance to feature a woman. Producer Tony Buckley began to
consider the project in 1970, when he first read the auto
biography entitled caddie, the Story of a Barmaid, a woman's
account of raising her children and working in Sydney in the
1920's and 1930's. Buckley asked his friend Joan Long (then
president of the Writer's Guild and who also had written
scripts for Film Australia) to consider writing the
screenplay.1 After reading the book, long was enthusiastic
about adapting it for the screen and immediately began work on
254
a draft. Buckley received $2500 in script development money
from the Interim Council for the Film School (a government body
in charge of organizing the Film and Television School and also
delegating small grants for script development). When Long's
first draft was completed, Buckley showed it to his friend and
former colleague, David Croitibie, a documentary filmmaker who
had worked with Buckley on a Film Australia project about the
Sydney Opera House in 1973 (entitled The Fifth Facade). Though
Crombie was reluctant to enter a project with an unknown writer
and producer2 he very much liked Long's screenplay and agreed
to direct.
Buckley had a difficult time raising the money, and
approached 46 potential investors-influential and wealthy women
and many large companies, including major distributors.3
According to Buckley, one distributor told him to use an
international star for the role of caddie, suggesting British
actresses Julie Christie and Sarah Miles, or American actress
Faye Dunaway. Finally Buckley was able to obtain a promise of
$250,000 from the Australian Film Development Corporation just
before it was disbanded, a commitment which the AFC stood
behind. With the stake of a major government agency, the
project had legitimacy, and Roadshow, which would distribute,
put in $25,000, and later channel 9 invested $60,000 for
television rights. Another $50,000 was contributed by the
Labor government on behalf of International Women's Year
National Advisory Committee4 (its policy that any profits from
255
this investment be put back into other "worthy projects" about
women's roles in society and history). The final budget for
the film was $385,000.
Joan Long had written the role of the "dandy" Ted (one of
Caddie's suitors) with Jack Thompson in mind (this after his
1
i
j performance in Sunday Too Far Away) and he was immediately cast
I
! by Buckley and Crombie. For Peter, Caddie's Greek lover,
Crombie chose Takis Emmanuel, who had come to Australia from
his native Greece to appear in Tom Cowan's Promised Woman
(playing the brother of a Greek man who sends for his "mail
order" bride from Greece).
After a long search, Buckley, Crombie and Long chose Helen
Morse for the role of Caddie. (Morse had played the role of
Miss Poitiers in Weir's Picnic at Hanging Rock). Morse even
contributed to the final re-write of the script, changing the
dialogue "that would work best for the character as (Morse)
perceived her."5
Caddie focuses on several years of a young woman's life
from 1925-30, and foregrounds the problems of a single mother
raising a family in patriarchal society shortly before and
after the Great Depression. The film opens up one of the
periods explored in Thomill's Between Wars, presenting (urban)
I Australian society from a woman's point of view. The film
demonstrates the extreme hardships facing women at the time —
victims of physical and sexual abuse, under the male dominated
| capitalistic system. Caddie leaves a comfortable middle class
256
marriage and joins the working class, surviving on her wits,
perseverance and diligence, demonstrating that she can use the
capitalistic system and make it work for her. She is courted
by two agents of the patriarchy who wish to position her in
traditional female role — wife, sexual object, commodity —
but she resists this positioning, demonstrating that she
doesn’ t need a man/husband to make her life rich and
meaningful.
At the beginning of the narrative, caddie leaves her
philandering husband, taking her two children with her. She
has very little money and must pawn her wedding ring to pay for
their first night at a seedy hotel. The prostitute down the
hall, who eyes them demonstrates the role that many women have
had to assume amidst the bad economic times: her face is
bruised and cut, suggesting how easily women in this position
are abused by men, as they play out their authority in violent
ways. As Caddie's flashback suggests, her husband struck her
when she discovered him and his lover.
Caddie's new life begins when she joins the work force as
a barmaid in a working class pub. Her job demonstrates women's
positioning in the patriarchal society, as servants and objects
of men's visual pleasure. Behind the enclosed bar Caddie and
the other women are trapped by the small working area,
scurrying to accommodate the crowds of men havering over the
counter, demanding re-fills, their eyes either focused on the
booze they guzzle down or luridly fixed on the barmaids. This
257
bar, like others in Sydney (as well as the rest of the country)
is segregated, reinforcing the hierarchy. The women who wish
to drink must sit in a separate room in the back. It is a
refuge for battered women, the unemployed, those on welfare.
Caddie's first suitor is Ted, the bookmaker, who lives on
illegal bets. The police look the other way, probably with
pay-off's, demonstrating the law's complicity in an (alternate)
economic system favoring men. Ted not only perceives Caddie as
a possession, which like his Cadillac, has beauty and class,
but also as a means of support, representing a whole strata of
men who use women to support them through bad economic times.
Although he professes his "love" for her, his plan to marry her
is a convenient set-up for him, just as his common law wife,
Maudie, has functioned as "bank" for his "business deals" over
the last several years.6
Maudie is compared to Caddie's friend and co-worker,
Josie, whose live-in boyfriend has gotten her pregnant and
skipped town. Just like Ted, the boyfriend has used Josie for
sexual favors and economic support. When Josie needs money for
an abortion, her boyfriend's mates keep his whereabouts a
secret. Likewise, Caddie must fend for herself, with a parent
to help when her daughter comes down with diphtheria, rushing
her to the hospital, and keeping an all-night vigil until her
daughter recovers, having to foot the bill herself.
With several months of experience, Caddie is able to move
up and work in an elegant bar catering to middle-class men.
258
Though she is treated more politely by the clientele, she still
functions as a sexual object. Her boss urges her and her
colleague Leslie to shorten their skirts, ostensibly "to be
more fashionable" but essentially, as he admits later, this
practice is to encourage customers to come in and get look at
"a well-turned leg." Leslie, glamourous and sophisticated, is
mainly interested in finding a rich man to marry. Unlike
Josie, who was looking for a laving relationship, Leslie is a
gold-digger, hoping to marry into a life of leisure, work is
merely a temporary measure. Caddie has played out Leslie's and
Josie's aspirations, for as a flashback shews us, she met her
husband while working as a barmaid, a little too eager to find
financial/personal security.
Caddie's second suitor, Peter, a frequent patron of the
bar, is a Greek immigrant who has left his poverty-stricken
country, to start over in Australia as a clothing manufacturer.
They seem to have much in common: both are estranged from
their spouses and represent minorities in a white, male
dominated Australian society. They find refuge in each other -
- Peter acts as a surrogate father to her children, and Caddie
provides him companionship. A generous and kind man, he plans
to set her up with a flat and an allowance so she does not have
to work and can spend more time with her children (whom she
boards).
Yet essentially Peter is no different than Caddie's
bosses, and is part of the local system that keeps women in a
259
subservient and dependent position. Peter has assumed the
practices of patriarchal capitalism which subjugates women —
he will only hire women to the cutting and sewing for lower
wages than a man would be paid. Caddie realizes her position
one afternoon, during an outing when Peter tells her how
demeaning it must be for her to work in a bar (implying also
his embarrassment that a man of his stature associates with her
publicly). She lashes out at him, angry at him and the society
he represents — "How do you think I feel when they say, 'She's
just a bloody barmaid?"' Clearly, his plan to set her up will
be a (sexual) convenience making her dependent on him for her
means of support, just as her husband did.
Since Peter prefers to assume the lifestyle of white
Australia, he has removed himself from his transplanted Greek
countrymen.7 He flippantly remarks to Caddie that all the
other men he knows have opened Greek restaurants, which serve
the Greek populace (unlike Peter, who caters to middle-class
Australians by designing expense and chic clothes.) Though he
will eat at the restaurant of his Greek comrades, (where he
takes Caddie on their first date), it appears that he is just
trying to impress her, by giving her a glimpse of an "exotic"
was of life that he essentially disdains.
Yet, no matter how hard he tries to fit into white
Australian society, Peter is still alienated from it. Tall,
dark, with olive skin, he is in stark contrast to (and aloof
from) the fair Australian men who frequent the bar and who seek
260
the company of their own countrymen. When a telegram arrives
with news of his father's illness, he is almost relieved; it is
evident that his real ties are to his Greek family, for he
quickly departs from Australia abandoning Caddie without money
or the flat he promised her.
The worsening economic conditions climax when the
Depression hits in 1929, devastating the area where Caddie
lives, demonstrating that poverty transcends class and sex;
hundreds of men and women wait in long food and welfare lines,
warming themselves over oil drum fires. Though she has lost
her job (the last one hired, the first one to be let go), she
adjusts quickly to the new system, arriving in the morning to
find the few jobs available on a posted list, and shewing up as
the first in line. But the demands of her job and child
raising cause her to have a breakdown from nervous exhaustion
and malnutrition. Her friends Bill and Sonny (who sell
rabbits) demonstrate a working class solidarity and a genuine
concern for her welfare, when they offer her and her children
lodging at their house, and raise money to pay the doctor, not
bailing out on her, as self-serving Peter did. Caddie returns
the favor, reinforcing the bond, when she recovers, buying Bill
a pair of working boots so he can be better equipped for more
jobs.
Caddie is contrasted to Esther (her husband's lover) who
happens to stop at Caddie's bar. Esther's bout with
tuberculosis has left her weak and gaunt, not healthy enough to
261
find work, living a poverty line existence. Unlike Bill and
Sonny, who stood by Caddie during her convalescence, Caddie's
husband left Esther, years ago, leaving her to fend on her own.
Her health restored, Caddie exhibits intelligence and
shrewdness in making the economic system work for her. She
serves as a runner for a local horse racing bookie (apparently
having learned a few tricks from Ted), secretly taking bets at
the bar, earning a percentage of the profits. She also goes on
the dole, setting up a plan to subvert the system that favors
married women and punishes those who are single, (as if the
latter have not accepted their proper positioning in the male
order). She pretends to be married to "John Jones, laid off
from the railroad." (If she gives her real name her husband
will be contacted; only wives of husbands without jobs can be
supported.) Caddie knows that the understaffed social services
never will be able to sort through all the Jones to check up on
her. Her tactics also indicates that she has dissolved links
with her husband for good, and assumed a new independent
status, which she intends to keep. This is demonstrated when
Peter writes and asks her to join him in Greece (He is divorced
and another marriage would be convenient and timely.)
Caddie, however, needs her estranged husband's consent to
take the children out of the country, the patriarchal state
recognizing the man as head of the family (Accordingly, a
father would not require the consent of the mother to take the
children.) Further, a divorce could take a year (the waiting
262
period intended to make the woman's desire for an independent
status as difficult as possible). Caddie refuses to contact
her husband and chooses to remain in Australia preferring to be
a single mother rather than a wife, demonstrating that she
doesn't need a man/husband to make her life complete. In the
film's final scene, Caddie laughs and plays with her children,
celebrating her new nuclear family.8
An epilogue tells us that Peter did eventually come to
Australia to be with Caddie, but that he was killed in a
motorcycle accident before they were married, and that she died
in 1960. Though the news of Peter's accident is surprising, we
presume that Caddie, who prized her independence and her
children lived her next thirty years happy and fulfilled.9
Roadshow released Caddie through Greater Union Theatres on
April 8, 1976, in the new Pitt Street Theaters complex in
downtown Sydney, and later in Adelaide and Melbourne. Despite
an unenthusiastic advertising campaign,10 the film proved to be
quite popular with local audiences, and within two years,
grossed almost four million dollars, making Caddie one of the
top-grossing films of the period 1970-77, and demonstrating
that there was a market for films featuring a female
protagonist. The AFI heartily endorsed the film, selecting
Helen Morse as best actress, Jackie Weaver (Josie) and Melissa
Jaffer (Leslie) as best supporting actresses and Drew Forsythe
(Bill) as best supporting actor.
Caddie was chosen to open the San Francisco Film Festival
in 1976 (replacing the usual American premier every year), and
won the Jury award for best film in the San Sebastian Festival
in Spain, which also landed Helen Morse as best actress.
Within a year of its release, Caddie was sold to several
European countries, (including Britain, West German,
Switzerland, Spain, France, Scandinavia), as well as Argentina
(where it ran for fourteen weeks), Mexico and Canada. An
American sale, however, did not come until 1981, when the newly
formed Atlantic Releasing brought the rights for the United
States. According to Stratton, the film failed to achieve an
initial sale in the United States, because of the ending:
If only, it was said, there had been knock at the door (at
the end of the film), and there had been Peter or Ted or
almost any one else, the film could have succeeded in the
u.s.n
The "rationale" suggested that American distributors were not
willing to take a chance on a film that resisted a traditional
happy ending that they presumed was necessary to satisfy
audiences.
In general, local critics praised the film, complementing
it for its heart and intelligence, Jack Clancy writing in
Cinema Papers that Helen Morse "suggested vulnerability and
fear without soppiness or weakness, and realism and toughness
without cynicism or insensitivity."12 Several reviewers
however (local and overseas), thought the film, and even Helen
Morse, too restrained. One critic suggested that the film
264
needed more melodrama,13 another pointed out Morse's "narrow
range,"14 still another Morse's stoicism.15 Yet Crombie's
tight control of tone and Morse's dignified performance creates
an unsentimental film that eschews an excess of emotion.
Further, Crombie is clearly interested in the greater economic
and political context in which Caddie is positioned, demon
strating her working within a system that repressed women.
Though Caddie is not a militant, she manipulates and subverts
the economic so she can survive.
In her review of Caddie. Pauline Kael quoted a "visiting
Australian dignitary involved in the Renaissance of his
country's film industry" who commented to her when she asked
for reasons for Caddie's success at home:
Australians don't like confrontation; they like nostalgia
and mood pieces. They want a slice of life set retro
spectively— .Typically, in Australian films the central
character has no idea what he (sic) wants to do, and is
easily diverted. The films say, 'You won't change events,
events will change you.'15
His statement would seem to implicate all period films
including those featuring female protagonists. Caddie.
however, challenges the dignitary's assumption, and the film's
major strength is Caddie's strong, unflagging sense of
conviction and purpose. She continually proves that she is
able to intelligently and responsibly manage her life as well
as that of her children, qualities local and overseas audiences
found admirable. Further, the tone of the film is hardly
nostalgic and is closer to social realism.
265
Caddie's success in Australia and abroad facilitated the
funding of more films focusing on women and their roles in
Australian history and society, for example, The Getting of
Wisdom. Journey Among Women17 (both made in 1977), and My
Brilliant Career (1979) all signaling a shift away from the
funding of predominantly male-centered films, which dominated
the years 1970-76.
Donald Crombie made three more feature films, all
examining "underdogs" at odds with a seemingly alien society.
The Irishman (1977) the livelihood of an Irish immigrant living
in the 20' s is threatened by the invention of the motor car.
Cathv's Child (1978) focusing on a Greek woman who appeals to a
local paper help her find her child kidnapped by her husband.
The Killing of Angel Street (1981) was based upon an actual
happening about a group of activists who protest the tearing
down of their neighborhood (Ehillip Noyce would focus on this
story too in Heatwave. 1984.)
Caddie opened up Helen Morse's career. She was chosen to
play the friend of Agatha Christie (played by Vanessa Redgrave)
in the 1978 feature film, Agatha. Two years later, she was
cast in the Australian television mini-series A Town Like
Alice. (1981) which examined ten years of a young British
woman's life during and after World War II, and her rela
tionship with an Australian soldier while both are prisoners of
the Japanese in New Guinea. Morse was also featured in Far
East (1983) again with Australian Bryon Brown, (her co-star in
266
Town), an action adventure situated in present day South
Vietnam.
My Brilliant Career
My Brilliant Career was a unique feminist project — the
first feature film in 50 years to be directed by a woman,18
with a woman also serving as producer, its focus on a female
protagonist who chooses to pursue a writing career on her own,
declining marriage and a comfortable middle class lifestyle.
The film was based on a tum-of-the-century semi-autobiography
by (Stella Marie Sarah) Miles Franklin, and was a radical book
in its day.19 For a woman to be published, let alone pursue a
career at the time was an almost unprecedented event.
Producer Margaret Fink had first read My Brilliant Career
in 1967 and made a commitment to someday get the film version
"of this prototypal feminist" on the screen. In the early
70's, Fink wrote and directed three short films, and in 1974
produced her first feature, The Removalists. a wry examination
of local police brutality which takes place when a group of
movers or removal ists attempt to help a woman move out and away
from her abusive husband.20 During the shooting of the film,
Fink became friends with the film's assistant art director,
Gillian Armstrong, just out of the National Film and Television
School, after a one year program. (Armstrong had been a member
of the first class of twelve.) Find had admired Armstrong's
film,21 particularly her short black and white film, 100 a Day.
267
one of three she made at school, which examined a young girl's
struggle (in mid-1930's) to survive a working day after a back-
alley abortion. Fink gave Armstrong the book to read, which
she loved, and when it appeared that the funding could be
arranged, Fink asked Armstrong to direct, always having
believed that the film should be directed by woman. (For the
record, Armstrong had reservations about directing a feature,
and thought she should do a few low-budget features first. But
as "time passed [she] became very involved with the screenplay
...determined to follow it through to a finished project."22)
Though Fink had approached the AFDC three times in 1975
for funding, the project was kicked back every time. (Fink
accounts for this by referring to a dispute with the AFDC over
whether the financing of The Removal ists was an investment or a
loan). She was however, able to obtain script development
money from the Victorian Film Commission in 1976 to pay writer
Eleanor Witcombe (who had scripted Bruce Beresford1 s The
Getting of Wisdom) to prepare a first draft. By that time,
Armstrong was fully committed to the project. Like Fink, she
was attracted to Sybylla, the female protagonist, and was
"impressed that the book was written by a sixteen year old girl
[whose] thoughts were so far ahead of her time."23 Eighteen
months later, Witcombe produced her first draft; however,
Armstrong was wary not only of the length of the script (which
translated to about three hours of film), but also its focus on
Sybylla, almost to the exclusion of her Australian suitor,
268
Harry Beachum. Fink then hired a script editor to make
revisions, who worked closely with Armstrong. The final draft
began at Sybylla's 14th year (Witcombe1 s draft had included her
childhood years), and strengthened the romance between Sybylla
and Harry, also making him a more central and more likable
character, enhancing his sexuality and diminishing his
frightful temper (which Franklin referred to frequently in the
j book). Armstrong and the script editor also changed the film's
! ending, adding a scene where Sybylla sends off her manuscript
j to publishers in Scotland, followed by an epilogue stating that
1 the book was published four years later. • (In Witcombe's
I
j version-true to the book-Sybylla refuses Harry's second
j proposal of marriage, and has very little hope for her future
i as a writer or musician. Armstrong though this was too
; downbeat for the film.)
In 1977, Fink finally obtained a commitment of $50,000
! from David Williams, managing director of Greater Union, which
would also distribute. With the legitimacy of a private
company (which were investing in more projects in the latter
! half of the 70's — including The Chart of Jimmie Blacksmith.
News front. The Last Wave and Breaker Morant), Fink received
almost half the film's $890,000 budget from the New South Wales
Film Corporation, formed in 1977 under the auspicious of
Premier Neville Wran's Labor government. Under the
directorship of Michael Thornhill, the corporation, like the
269
AFC, was interested in quality projects, and helping the
industry grow.
Like the South Australian Film Corporation, the NSWFD was
government sponsored and managed, not directly investing
taxpayers1 money but encouraging the participation of private
financiers. The Corporation was high on the success of
News front, and was anxious to invest in another period project.
The remainder of the budget was from private sources; thus
Career was one of the few films of the period without some
input from the AFC.
Fink also wanted to get a feel for public tastes for the
book and the film, and consulted her friend Ita Buttrose at
Women * s Weekly.24 a "Barometer for women's tastes." Buttrose
told Find she loved the Book (Women's Weekly later serialized
portions of the book), and Fink felt that, based upon
Buttrose's enthusiasm, readers of Women's Weekly were ready for
the film. Angus and Robertson also reprinted the book at the
time of the film's release with scenes from the film on its
cover.
The film was fully cast in January, 1978, but when the
lead actress who was to play Sybylla was shot in full costume
in a 35mm test (at the advice of Michael Thornhill), Fink and
Armstrong realized that she was all wrong for the role, and
they began frantic search for another lead. They found Judy
Davis, a recent graduate of the National Institute of Dramatic
Arts, who had extensive stage experience, and had played a
270
small part in Hicth Rolling.25 Davis was auditioned on video,
and see was deemed 'perfect' for the role. By casting this
intense, passionate actress, with striking red hair and blue
eyes, Fink and Armstrong enhanced the film considerably, for
Davis was able to convincingly portray a complicated woman, who
is fiercely determined to maintain her independence, yet who is
strongly attracted to Harry (played by New Zealand actor Sam
Neill).
My Brilliant Career functions on two levels: Australia
breaking away from England at the turn-of-the-century (the time
of Federation), and a woman's struggle for independence from a
patriarchal system. Sybylla Melville resists agents from
British and Australian society who both offer her marriage and
a comfortable middle-class existence. Instead she chooses to
maintain her independence and pursue a career.
Throughout the narrative, the various tum-of-the-century
roles for women, as defined by the patriarchal society are
examined — wife, mother of a man's children, sexual object,
commodity in capitalistic enterprise. Sybylla resists these
roles, and defines her own — sexual aggressor, artist,
teacher, published writer.
When the narrative begins, Sybylla is living with her
working class father and mother who are struggling to raise
several children, and keep their small station going in the
midst of a drought. By sending Sybylla away to live with her
grandmother on her estate, Sybylla's mother hopes not only that
271
her daughter will marry into the landed gentry (and have an
easier life than she did), but also that Sybylla will abandon
her aspirations to be a writer or musician, unacceptable
vocations for a woman at the time.
At Caddagut, Sybylla's grandmother Bossier and her Aunt
Helen function as agents of the patriarchal society, urging her
to pursue the only respectable role for a woman at the time —
marriage into wealth, a positioning that Sybylla opposes,
perceiving it as a denial of a woman's own identity. She has
seen her mother struggle for years as a mother, laborer, wife
with no control over her life; further, her aunt Helen,
abandoned by her husband, is a non-entity — "neither wife, nor
widow nor maiden."
Instead, as Sybylla tells her grandmother, she will have a
career in literature, art, music or opera. "I'd rather see her
with her hair shorn off and shut up in a convent, Bossier
comments, underscoring the ideology of the patriarchal society
that perceives her career choices as sacrilegious — the
punishment for such subversive thinking to be sealed away in a
nunnery as a celibate, and under the control of another
patriarchal system, the Catholic church.
Sybylla perceives her first suitor, Briton Frank Hawley,
an unwelcome invader of the Australian bush. To demonstrate
that he does not belong, and to play out her/Australia's
independence from British influence, she races the horse
carriage, grabbing the reins from Frank, almost knocking him
272
off later dropping him off four miles from home so he must walk
the distance. Worse, his courtship of her interferes with her
writing, and threatens her career plans. Frank's proposal of
marriage foregrounds the tum-of-the-century positioning of
Australian women in British patriarchal society. Though
Australia is technically independent from Britain, and the land
controlled by white Australian males, Britain still perceives
Australian women as another form of property, a "claim." By
rejecting his proposal, Sybylla repositions Frank, sending him
head first from the fence where they both sit into a pen of
milling sheep, humiliating him and reversing the hierarchy; the
superior Englishman is in a subservient position at her feet in
sheep dung.
Sybylla' s next suitor, Harry Beachum, is a wealthy
Australian landowner, who lives near Grandma Bossier with his
aunt at Five Bob Downs. Unlike the prissy Frank, Harry is an
outdoors man, an excellent horseman and tends his land himself,
demonstrating the rugged pioneering qualities of Australian men
settling the new nation. Sybylla and Harry are immediately
attracted to each other, and the problems that develop in their
relationship are a function of her challenging the traditional
roles of women in the Australian patriarchal society, and
Harry's subsequent confusion with this "modem" woman who is
charmingly aggressive, fiercely independent, and career
oriented. Their personal dynamics operate in the greater
context of the shifting relationships between men and women as
273
each component of society responded to Australia's new era of
nationhood. When Sybylla meets Harry, she breaks all the rules
of middle-class propriety for a lady, singing vulgar pub songs
and dancing wildly (thus challenging the strict rules of her
grandmother's house) later playing the sexual aggressor in a
pillow fight.
Though Harry is looking for a wife, and is fascinated by
Sybylla, he is also a flagrant womanizer, and operates on a
double standard with regard to lower and middle-class women (a
practice which correlates women with commodities, as Frank has
demonstrated). This dynamic is demonstrated when Frank first
meets Sybylla. He thinks she is a peasant girl, and comes on
to her strongly, pulling her out of the tree when she sits
writing (No middle-class woman would be out alone, unsuper
vised. ) Sybylla goes along with the game, delighted with the
opportunity to flirt, disguising her identity with a Scottish
brogue. Because Harry thinks she is from the lower class, he
treats her like common property, which he can "take" at will,
hugging and kissing her. Later, when finds out who she really
is (they are formally introduced at her grandmother's house),
he pulls back, treating her with respect. Sybylla is private,
"middle-class property" possessed only through marriage.
Sibylla's disguise (and ability to more freely from lower to
middle-class) not only demonstrates that a man's treatment of a
woman is a function of her class standing, but that she is on
to his game and can beat him at it.
274
However, Sybylla"s attraction to Harry foregrounds her
ambivalence about his ultimate role in her life — friend?
lover? husband? But the implications of these possibilities
also demonstrate the reasons why patriarchal society permits
only marriage for a respectable middle-class woman. Marriage
positions a woman to be a wife and mother, defined in terms of
a man, denying her own intellectual or creative pursuits. This
is why Sybylla sees marriage as incompatible with a career,
marriage would deny her all the freedoms of a career. If she
and Harry remained friends, they would be equals, society
seeing this relationship as an intolerable position; as lovers,
that would be another impossibility, for Sybylla would be
breaking the Victorian moral code of chastity before marriage
(and freely expressing her sexuality). Though, as Harry has
demonstrated, men are permitted the sexual license to 'sow
their wild oats," especially with lower class "waifs."
The dance at Caddagut, however, enables Sybylla to resolve
her confusion about Harry's role in her life, for it
dramatically demonstrates Harry's duplicity as he plays out
his authoritarian patriarchal role; she is able to break free
of him/the middle-class he represents. Harry brings another
woman with him to the dance, but ironically asks Sybylla to
marry him, later in the evening, suggesting that marriage would
position her for his convenience, while still enabling him to
operate on a double standard. Appalled at his flaunting another
lady, Sybylla refuses to dance with him, choosing instead to
275
dance with a ranch hand, playing out her rejection of Harry and
his middle-class standards- Angered with her "impudent" snub,
he drags her off the floor and confronts her in the tack roam
roughly grabbing her arms. Seeing his true colors, that he is
not different than other agents of the society, she strikes him
across the face with a horse whip, resisting him with equally
aggressive behavior. With her subsequent decline of his offer
of marriage, she knowingly rejects his land, wealth and status
(the usual spoils offered by a man to entice a woman into
marriage), affirming her intentions to work on her writing and
be published.
Sybylla makes her choice despite the warning of Harry's
aunt, the spokesman for Harry/the patriarchy, linking the
"consequence" of loneliness with her independence — an
"impossible dream." Harry's aunt speaks from her own
experience, an unsuccessful attempt to pursue her own career as
a pointer, pushed out perhaps by the male establishment
(painting an unrecognized female vocation, like writing) which
now supports her. She lives on her nephews ranch, and on his
income.
However, Sybylla's new independent status is challenged —
subsequently she is 'exiled' from Caddagut, punished for her
defiance of the patriarchal practices. Another agent of the
patriarchy, her father, re-asserts control over her, using her
to pay off the interest of a debt to a fellow rancher, Mr.
McSwat, demonstrating her re-positioning in more proper roles
276
in the male capitalistic system — as a commodity, and as a
governess (surrogate mother) to the rancher1s several children.
However, Sybylla ingeniously teaches the illiterate
children to read (by having them scan the newspaper covered
walls of the shack) suggesting that she is educating a
generation of literate (and well-informed) you men and women,
who can learn together and co-exist as friends, equals — the
basis of a hopefully egalitarian society. Sybylla is also
raising a generation of women in her image, who can learn from
her example, embody her independence and passion for self-
determination. She resists her "indentured servitude" by
writing in her journal and also playing the piano. Sybylla is
contrasted to her sister, Gertie, who has filled Sybylla's role
as the new guest at Caddagut, courted by Frank and Harry,
destined to follow the role that has been designated for her
with no resistance.
Like the Melvilles, the McSwats have encouraged their
eldest to date representatives from the middle-class. Their
son's subsequent engagement to a rich woman from the city
demonstrates the fulfillment of the aspirations of a (rural)
lower-class member to move up the socio-economic scale by
marriage. But the lower class has a double standard regarding
women, demonstrated when the McSwat's misinterpret Sybylla' s
friendship with their son as a romantic interest. A lower-
class woman can work for them, but cannot become integrated
into the family. Unlike his fiance, Sybylla does not promise
j
Ill
him class. She must leave to avoid complicating the "pact."
In return, the McSwats will absolve the remainder of the
interest owed, showing she has successfully fulfilled her
contract (just as their son's finance will successfully fulfill
her marriage contract with a land dowry).
Back heme, Sybylla resumes her role as a working member of
her family; the bush is clearly where she is most comfortable,
for she has the freedom to write unhampered. However, Sybylla
is still at odds with her mother, their uneasy co-existence
emblematic of two generations of Australian women, one serving
in a traditional male-defined roles as wife and mother (her
mother has had another baby), the other seeking a more
progressive vocation independent of man. When Harry again
appears to repeat his offer, Sybylla declines. An epilogue
tells us that Sybylla was indeed successful in realizing her
aspirations, for her autobiographical manuscript (the events
portrayed in the narrative) was published a few years later in
Edinburgh, Scotland in 1901.
Hence, the film ends on a triumphant note, Sybylla's book
a celebration of her feminist ideals and successful resistance
to an oppressive patriarchal society, whose male and female
agents sought to contain her through its institution of
marriage, preventing her realizing her intellectual/artistic
talent and goals. The film endorses writing as a female
activity, just as the film itself is living proof that
filmmaking can be a female undertaking. (The publishing of
278
Sybylla1 s book also suggests that the male owned and dominated
publishing establishment can "tolerate1 1 a woman in its ranks.)
Neither profession, then filmmaking or writing, is only in the
realm and under the control of the male.
My Brilliant Career was chosen to compete in the Cannes
Film Festival in May, 1979 (after David Roe, NSW Film Corpor
ation representative, submitted it for Jury consideration).
The film was lauded for its feminist themes, and Judy Davis
just missed out on winning for best actress (losing out to
Sally Field for Norma Rae). On the basis of the Cannes
screening, Career was also chosen to participate in the London
and New York Film Festivals,26 and rights were sold to the
United States, Canada, and Europe. The film opened locally in
October, starting "soft" but building on word of mouth, doing
especially well in Melbourne, establishing an all-time box
office record the second week, and playing solidly into the new
year. Career also won several AFI awards for best film,
cinematography, screenplay, costume design and art direction.
Ultimately, it grossed $1.1 million from local and overseas
screenings, and became one of the most successful films of the
decade.
Career received uniform praise locally and overseas;
several critics, however, focused on the tensions in the
narrative between Sybylla1s modem ideas, her healthy sexuality
(Davis's intense fiery performance notwithstanding) and the
good taste of the script (reflecting, of course the restraints
of the Victorian times on sexual expression), including the
romanticized tone of the film-reinforced by the film’s
theme song by Schumann which complements the stunning beautiful
images of the Australian countryside.
As many reviewers noted, the dance scene is bewildering,
for up to that point Sybylla has demonstrated her strong
attraction to Harry; she also regards him as her mate (used
between a man and a woman, it means a strong bond of friend
ship) . Harry's proposal to her while at the dance with another
woman is confusing, for he has seemed devoted to Sybylla.
Their angry outbursts are surprising in light of their gentile
natures. It's as if their only way to release sexual tension
is through violence. (They are allowed only a few scenes
together to exchange a few light kisses or to look longingly at
each other after a fierce pillow fight.) Perhaps neither
Armstrong, or Fink had any idea that Davis would bring such
passion to her role not only for Harry but also for
independence and pursuit of a career. Davis, herself, seems
constrained by the script and the period, and as Sybylla seems
more than able to handle both marriage and a profession.
Finally, the filmmakers do not really analyze her
lingering ties to her family as a means of support. Sybylla is
not completely independent, by the film's end she must still
live with her mother and father, her career made possible in
part by their providing her room and board, suggesting that her
280
career functions in the traditional nuclear patriarchal
dominated family.
Significantly, the film's reception boosted the careers of
Gillian Armstrong and Judy Davis. Within a year, Armstrong had
three offers to direct from Australian producers, and was
invited to Hollywood to consider working on several projects.
She chose, however, to stay in Australia and work on her own
project, Starstruck (1982), a musical about a working class
Sydney girl who wants to be a rock star. In 1984, Armstrong
was invited to direct an American film, Mrs. Soffel for MGM,
starring Diane Keaton and Mel Gibson, focusing on a tum-of-
the-century woman who leaves her family to run off with a
convict. Thus, within six years, Armstrong had accomplished
what few women (or men) have done — directing three major
features in two countries, one in Hollywood.
Judy Davis was featured in several Australian films,
including Winter of Our Dreams (1982), playing a junkie/
prostitute, and in Heatwave. (1984) Phillip Noyce's second
feature (after Newsfront), playing an activist trying to save
condemned houses in an urban area. In both films, bringing
the same intelligence and passion to two roles very different
from Sybylla in Career. David Lean (after seeing Davis in
Career), cast her in Passage to India (1984), and she played
the young English girl who accuses her Indian companion of
rape. Davis also played the young Golda Meir in the American
television special. Most recently she co-starred with her
281
husband, Colin Friels, in the film directed by Tim Burstall,
based on D.H. Lawrence1 s novel, Kanctaroo. playing Collins
German wife Hilda (and receiving an AFI award for her
performance).
Margaret Fink was not able to produce another film for
several years, blaming the declining involvement of state and
federal institutions, and "too much money in the wrong hands —
men" with the creation of the tax incentives in 1981. Her 1986
project, For Love Alone again focused on a feisty young woman,
in the context of the 30's, who leaves a tyrannical father,
limited options in Australia, to work and live in England.
The Chant of Jimmie Blacksmith
Fred Schepisi, a producer of newsreels and television
commercials,27 had wanted to make the film version of The Chant
of Jimmie Blacksmith, a novel by Australian writer, Thomas
Keneally, ever since he read it in 1975. Keneally had based
his book on the actual tum-of-the-century incident where a
half-caste Aborigine (Jimmy Governor) had gone on a rampage
and murdered several white women and men. Schepisi had become
acquainted with Keneally in 1972 when he had made a film of
Keneally's short script The Priest (one of four segments of a
film called Libido, produced by the Victorian Branch of the
Producers and Directors Guild, which wanted to utilize local
writers with no film writing experience), which focused on a
young priest and a nun who fall in love, but who cannot forsake
282
also examined by Schepisi in his first feature film (based on
his own experiences in a seminary), The Devil1s Playground
(1976) which Schepisi wrote, produced, and financed with his
own money and a grant from the Australian Film Commission.
Playground examined the problems of a teen-age boy who resists
the harsh structure and rules of a Catholic Boys Seminary.
The film was chosen for Director's Fortnight at Cannes and
played to enthusiastic audiences and was later chosen for the
London and Paris festivals.
Locally, Playground was quite popular and made almost all
of its $300,000 investment back, as well as receiving the AFI
award for best film. With such an auspicious beginning in
feature films, Schepisi had little trouble raising the money
for Chant of Jimmie Blacksmith, though the budget, $1.2 million
was the highest ever for any Australian film at the time. The
AFC provided $350,000, (plus a $50,000 loan,) this investment
matched by the newly formed Victorian Film Corporation,28 Hoyts
investing $200,000 — the first production investment for the
distributioiyexhibition company, under the new management of
Terry Jackman. The final $250,000 came from Schepisi's own
resources. As he had done with Playground. Schepisi produced,
and also wrote the screenplay, with Keneally providing advice
whenever Schepisi needed it. "I think it is a great story, one
that is extremely relevant today, "Schepisi commented during
pre-production, "...the kind of story that can reach people on
a mass level, and also say something that needs to be said in
283
this country.. .Though we are a lot better educated now, we
still treat the Aborigines just as badly."29
Schepisi also wanted to humanize the whites (unlike
Keneally, who "painted them as out and out rats") "showing they
could have been you or me,"30 functioning within the social
practices of that period. He also wanted to demonstrate, as
Keneally had, that the whites were merely following the British
Imperial-colonial model. The British treated the white
Australians as prisoners, so it followed that the whites
treated the colonized Aborigines the same way.
Unlike most of the cast, which was composed of trained
actors and actresses from stage or film, the roles of Jimmie
and Mort, (his half brother) were played by two Aborigines who
had never acted before. Schepisi and his wife Rhonda had first
seen Tommy Lewis at the Melbourne airport (at the time he was a
business student at a Melbourne University, Swinburne Tech),
and Rhonda thought he looked "fantastic" for the part of
Jimmie, so she walked up to him and asked if he wanted to be in
their film. Lewis later contacted Schepisi, expressing a
strong interest in the role, and Schepisi put him through a |
grueling several hour screen test at Schepisi's studios — i
i
Schepisi and his wife then decided that Lewis was perfect for j
the role.31 They later found Mort (Freddy Renolds) at a party j
that Tammy hosted. Schepisi was worried about the authenticity j
of the Aborigine performances, and to prepare both men for j
their roles, he hired Michael Canefield (who had worked before j
284
with Aborigines, such as David Gulpilil) who gave Lewis and
Reynolds exercises on the emotional areas.
Chant of Jimmie Blacksmith focuses on a young Aborigine
half-caste who strives to integrate himself into white society.
Like generations of Aborigines before him, he suffers scorn,
injustices and rejection from the white Australian community.
Ultimately, he declares war and goes on a white killing spree,
only to be caught and hanged. Though the narrative primarily
examines white-Aborigine conflicts, it also functions within
the greater context of tum-of-the-century British Imperialism.
While Britain grants Australia independence through Federation,
it fights another colonial war in South Africa (the Boer
War).32 Simultaneously, white Australians perpetuate the
Imperial order by continuing to deny colonial Aborigines their
rights as Australian citizens.
Throughout the narrative, the agents of the white state —
the police and the landowners — and its institution, the
church, play out their power and authority over the Aborigines,
repressing them through violence. The conditions under which
Jimmie's tribe lives demonstrate the disintegration of the
Aborigine culture since the whites came to Australia, the
landowners and the police complicit in the colonization of the
Aborigines. Forced off their land by glaziers, corralled into
an unnatural existence in black camps, and forced to live in
subhuman conditions in tents and shacks, the Aborigines have
not been able to work the land, and pass the days and night
285
drinking. The police routinely invade the compounds to round
them up and throw them into jail, playing out their authori
tarian role to remind the colonials who their masters are.
Jimmie is essentially caught between two cultures.
Although raised and educated by a white Methodist minister, he
has strong spiritual bonds to his Aborigine tribe, as well as
the physical features of an Aborigine, bom a "pale child."
Jimmie's white guardian, Reverend Neville, who works as a
missionary among the Blacks, demonstrates the role of the
church in ruling over and repressing the black community.
Neville has educated the Aborigines to be subservient and
docile; they must answer to their white God. When Neville's
authority is challenged, he resorts to violence to restore his
control. This power dynamic is demonstrated when Jimmie "skips
out" on choir practice to return to his tribe to undergo his
rites of manhood. Neville is humiliated and angered by what he
interprets to be Jimmie's defiance of his authority. He makes
an example of Jimmie, turning him into the "whipping boy" for
all the tribe to see so no one else will make the same mistake.
For Neville, Jimmie has a higher calling — he has taught him
to read and write so Jimmie can enter white society, work, and
earn money to buy land, and marry a white girl. Hence, as
Neville and his wife tell Jimmie at dinner one night, his
children will be "one-fourth caste, his grandchildren one-
eighth, scarcely Black at all." By diluting Aborigine blood,
the whole race will be gradually phased out, this compatible
286
with the historical white genocide practiced by the white
state. Jimmie, respectful and polite, misses the latent racism
of this argument, having no reason to doubt Neville’s
prediction that his "good breeding" will be his ticket into
white society.
Out in the white world, Jimmie aligns himself with the
two symbols of white power to give him status — the landowners
and the police. As a fence builder, Jimmie works long and hard
to make the fences straight and solid (ironically setting up
boundaries on land taken away from Aborigines). However, his
white bosses (Healey and Lewis) refuse to pay him full wages;
to do so would be treating Jimmie as an equal, like a white
man. To deny him a substantial part of his wage is to keep him
in his place and maintain the white order. Both men are of
Scottish descent, so their legendary thriftiness turns into a
snide racist joke. Healey, for example, is illiterate, and
cannot write Jimmie a recommendation for his next fence job.
His authority threatened by Jimmie's ability to read and write,
he resorts to violence (like Neville) knocking him on the
ground, putting the Black (back) in his place.
Undaunted, Jimmie gets a new job as a stable boy for the
local police chief, Farrell, whose role enables him to act out
his disdain for the "black bastards." However, he admires
Jimmie's diligence, as well as his ingratiating and friendly
manner — "You show a lot of talent, take you orders, know your
place," he comments. Farrell puts into perspective the
287
positioning of the Aborigine in the new Federation scheme,
reminding Jimmie that even though Australia will be unified
with a common purpose and common front, the "common-wealth"
will only benefit the white Australians: Aborigines "will have
the same rights — none."
As a result of a murder of a white man in a black camp,
Farrell restores the white order, which dramatically
demonstrates the sexual politics of the state regarding black
men and women. The white men frequent the black camps,
"rolling" the black "gins" (women) which their husbands give
freely to the whites in exchange for liquor (as if a peace
offering to mollify the whites). (Jimmie has functioned within
this practice, after being gupped by Healey. He screws Mrs.
Harrington, calling her a black bitch, thus playing the role of
the white boss-man entitled to abuse and dominate a black
woman, just as he has been "screwed over" by Healey.)
To ferret out the "murderer," Farrell, accompanied by his
tracker, Jimmie storms into the black camp. Like Farrell,
Jimmie is cruel and menacing to the blacks (many of them
friends or relatives) clubbing and running them down on his
horse. Jimmie even finds Harry, who killed the white man, an!
turns him over to Farrell, later assuming Farrell's role by
chastizing the black man for starting the whole business,
implying that he deserves whatever he is going to get. That
night, Farrell tortures, rapes and kills Harry (by breaking his
neck (as if his earlier fondling of Jimmie's cheek was the
288
foreplay for this vicious act), demonstrating that Blacks are
for fucking (as Jimmie and the white visitors to the camps have
demonstrated), and killing to restore white power. This dynamic
explains why the ranch hands are so sensitive about Jimmie
using the word "fucking" for emphasis, as they do in their
conversations. This "self-conscious token of Jimmie's
worldliness earns him a rebuke from them for trespassing in
forbidden territory.33 They make fun of him to put him back in
his place, as if they only have the privilege of using the word
and acting it out, their sexual prowess another way to
reinforce white supremacy. To deny blacks any expression of
sexuality is to deny them power.
The restored white Imperial order within Australia is
placed in the greater context of the practices of Imperial
Britain, as if Australia is following the example of their
former oppressors now engaged in another colonial war in South
Africa. At his new job as a ranch hand at the Newby station,
Jimmie listens to several of the shearers discuss with the cook
Britain's declaration of war on the Boers, killing all who
resist. The cook exclaims, "Britain hopes that military might
well prevail where common sense fails." The shearer
sarcastically qualifies this, "Kill'em, maim'em 'til they agree
with you," turning to Jimmie, smugly and ironically commenting,
"It's not our country, is it iacko (which means monkey) clearly
designating the subservient positioning of the Aborigines in
Australia.
289
At the Newby ranch, however, Jimmie finds that everything
seems to finally fall into place for him, as if the former
indignities were his rites of passage to this stage of his
life. His boss, Mr. Newby, who raises sheep and grain is fair
to Jimmie, and pays him his full wages for his work; even the
station hands accept Jimmie, inviting him to play cricket with
them on their days off. Jimmie finally finds a white girl,
Gilda. However, she is not the nice respectable girl of his (or
the Neville's) dreams, but a dim-witted loose waif who lives
with the Newby1 s as a maid and kitchen hand. When Gilda
becomes pregnant, Jimmie does the honorable thing and marries
her, realizing his direct access into the white society; now he
can father generations of children with diminishing amounts of
Aborigine blood, just as the Nevilles told him to do. Gilda is
contrasted to the Newby1 s governess, Miss Graf, who is
educated, member of the middle-class, "saving herself" for a
marriage of convenience to a nearby landowner, her access to
landed wealth. She gives her fiance status in middle-class
society, just as Gilda will give Jimmie a position in the white
community.
The birth of Gilda's white baby becomes a cruel twist of
events for Jimmie, as if his white progeny have arrived
generations to early. Instead of a joyous event, the birth is
a humiliating occasion — the Healey boys burst into peals of
laughter, and Miss Graf, smirking, holds the baby as if he
belongs to her. The event enables the white society to re
290
establish the purity of its white community. Healey takes his
land back, calling it a Blacks camp. (Jimmie's half-brother
Mort and uncle Tagidgi are frequent visitors.) The whites also
re-incorporate Gilda into their midst — Miss Graf, with Mrs.
Newby1 s blessing, asks Gilda to come live with her. Furious,
Jimmie storms the Healey ranch with his uncle, and demands to
be reinstated. When Mrs. Healey denies him access to her
house, he and Tabadgi burst into the front room and murder her,
her daughters and Graf with hatchets, taking away from Healey
what Jimmie himself cannot have — the white women, the white
man's prized possession.
Though Mrs. Newby is the first one Jimmie attacks34 Miss
Graf is the one he is really after. All her tauntings have
been like a sexual tease, so she can have the pleasure of
keeping him at a distance, and condescend to him. By cutting
her down, a symbolic rape, he overpowers her and she "submits"
to him; he finally gets rid of the spector of white female
respectability — the "right" girl for him, an ideal he has
cherished since his days with the Neville's. Further, by
killing Mrs. Newby and her daughters, Jimmie exorcises the
older and younger versions of Miss Graf, two generations of her
image.
Jimmie's killing spree only whets his appetite for more
violence, his subsequent "declaration of war"35 on the white
society means that he plans to return to all the ranchers who
cheated him, murder their wives and daughters, as if avenging
291
the genocide inflicted on his people for over a century*
Jimmie is compared to Mort, who accompanies him for a lark, not
realizing what Jimmie has done. Mort is easy-going and
gregarious (he helped Jimmie on one of his fence-post jobs) but
has never aspired to integrate into the white community.
Instead, he has been content to stay in his place with his
native tribe, never expecting anything from the whites,
essentially avoiding contact with them. In this respect, he is
more at peace with himself and more civilized,-*6 not burdened
with the infuriating confusion felt by Jimmie, who expects
acceptance from the white community. Mort is horrified when he
sees that Jimmie has murdered Healey's daughter and baby girl.
Not only is it cold-blooded murder, but Jimmie has violated a
sacred taboo in the Aborigine community for killing women is
against Aborigine laws. As if pulled into Jimmie's madness,
Mort accidentally shoots Mrs. Healey in the shoulder, and
later, in self-defense, kills a white policeman.
Jimmie has been buggered (screwed over) by his white
Christian upbringing just as his hostage McCreadie, a school
teacher instructs him, implying that Jimmie has been fooled by
the agent of Christianity, Neville, and corrupted by his naive
acceptance of "Christian" virtues. Brotherhood, peace and good
will among men are, however, myths, serving and applying to
whites only. Neville has perpetrated the double standard by
acting as if he and his society were color blind. Jimmie,
desperate for retribution has assumed the white mode of power
292
— violence. As Neville comments to his wife, (hearing of
Jimmie's murders), "He's half white you know."
McCreadie's presence also enables Jimmie to reverse the
power structure? Jimmie plays the black boss man to the white
slave boy, taunting McCreadie, accusing him of turning the
Aborigine bush into a white camp, a reference to all of
Australia which has been infiltrated by the whites. This is
demonstrated when Jimmie, Mort and McCredie visit an Aborigine
sacred site, now littered with graffiti, the sacred ceremonial
stones smashed and scattered.
Close on the heels of Mort and Jimmie are the agents of
the police, Dowie Stead (Miss Graf's fiance) and his friend Dud
Edmonds, who share Farrell's disdain for the "black bastards."
Stead's avenging of his fiance's death is fueled by his own
racism. Their guerrilla tactics on the bush operate in the
greater context of the British offense against the Boers in
South Africa, for they "kill and maim" the colonial enemy with
a vengeance to act out white sovereignty. Suspending justice,
not bothering with a trial, they shoot Mort in the back several
times and then mutilate him, by shooting him in the eye. Like
wise, when Jimmie is captured, the vigilante townspeople punch
his face and jam his body with their rifles, his face already
disfigured by Stead's bullet. Like the police, the church
(again) serves the state — the nun who finds Jimmie hiding out
in a bush convent simply turns him over to the state
authorities. Like Mort, Jimmie will have no trial, he will
hang, quickly and quietly. The government officials have
bribed the executioner with Royal Honors, not wishing to mar
Federation festivities, demonstrating that Federation, like
justice serves the white community and operates on a double
standard, celebrating not only the power of the white
patriarchal state but with Jimmie's death the destruction of
the Aborigine race.
As he had done with The Devil1 s Playground. Schepisi
wanted to establish an international reputation for Chant at
Cannes first, before opening the film locally. As it turned
out, Chant was the first Australian produced film ever to be
accepted for competition. Subsequently a large publicity
campaign was set up which convinced Australians audience that
Chant would certainly win a prize. As Stratton points out,
there was unprecedented media coverage about the Cannes
screening at home. The Australian press was filled with
"stories of the honor bestowed upon the local film industry by
the selection of the film":
Geraldine Pascall of The Australian (a Melbourne based
newspaper with national circulation) travelled to Cannes
and for several days of mouth-watering anticipation
readers were fed with intimate details of the festival and
Fred Schepisi's reaction to it.37
After the screening, audiences gave the film a five-minute
standing ovation, but ultimately Chant did not win a prize.
The film received excellent notices and generated a great deal
of praise, one critic commenting that Chant was the first major
Australian film to treat the Aborigine 'problem' as more than
294
exotic cultural baggage."38 Fox bought the British
distribution rights, and New York film rights for the United
States. In Australia, however, Chant took on the reputation of
the film that failed to win at Cannes.39
Hoyts, however, put on a huge publicity campaign before
the film's opening in Melbourne in June, 1978 (it opened a week
later in Sydney). Chant took in nearly one million in twelve
weeks, receiving glowing reviews from critics, but during the
thirteenth week, it "stopped dead," ultimately returning only
$50,000 because of publicity and promotional costs. Schepisi
also lost his $250,000 investment, and the film was deemed a
commercial failure. In retrospect, Schepisi has commented,
It's one of those pictures that everyone says is a great
piece of filmmaking, but they don't know how to market it
and how to get people to see it. I really thought it
would work. I really set out to make a picture for a lot
of people, .and I thought my film would have enough
excitement to capture the imagination of a wide public,
especially at this time in Australia.40
Schepisi has also acknowledged that the film boldly and
directly confronts audiences about the issue of white racism:
"Maybe that's why it didn't make it as a piece of commercial
cinema.. .Audiences see a black guy doing ordinary things we
white people do, and that stirs something. "41
Schepisi came under fire from his own colleagues and
journalists about his expensive failure:
...I feel very guilty about its effect on the Australian
film industry, and very angry about the treatment handed
out to it by some fellow filmmakers trying to use it as
same personal stepping stone for them and not giving a
stuff about the industry at all.
2 9 5
Though he had filmmaking commitments in Australia, Schepisi
moved to the United States in 1981, and made two films
Barbarosa (1982) and Iceman (1984) the former a Western
featuring Willy Nelson as a legendary "gringo" hero in Mexico,
and the latter (following in the commercial footsteps of Quest
for Fire) focusing on a primitive man unearthed by modern-day
scientists, who wish to use him as a guinea pig in their
experiments. Most recently, Schepisi made a film version of
David Hare's play. Plenty (1985) ,also American financed
starring Meryl Streep as a feisty English woman who resists and
questions Imperial politics in post-war Britain. Though all of
Schepisi's films after Chant of Jimmie Blacksmith have
continued to focus on outsiders, or incorrigibles in a
repressive and cruel society, none of his subsequent films
(though intelligent and well-crafted) have come close to the
power and scope of Chant. Because of the commercial failure of
Chant, the AFC and state commissions have since been reluctant
to finance a feature film that examines the role Aborigines
have in white Australian society. Peter Weir's The Last Wave
is the exception, but his tone and focus are quite different,
as he has chosen to mystify and romanticize them, avoiding
Schepisi's rigorous political analysis.
The Last Wave
The Last Wave was based on an original idea by Peter Weir,
derived from an experience he had in Tunisia in 1971, when he
2 9 6
The Last Wave was based on an original idea by Peter Weir,
derived from an experience he had in Tunisia in 1971, when he
was walking among the ruins. He was suddenly seized with a
strange feeling that he was going to find something:
I even saw what I was going to see. And there it was, on
the ground, a carving of a child's head. I brought it
home and I thought about it for ages afterwards. What was
that experience? Why did I see the head in my mind before
I saw it in actuality?43
Weir then began to consider, "What if a very rational person —
a lawyer, say — had the same experience? How would he cope
with it? And that was the beginning of The Last Wave."44 Weir
developed the script himself, which focuses on a contemporary
Sydney lawyer who envisions the future destruction of the
world by a huge tidal wave through his dreams — his links to a
group of tribal Aborigines. Weir also collaborated with David
Gulpilil, whom he cast in the role of Chris, the lawyer's
Aborigine contact, and who had been featured in Roeg's
Walkabout.45 Weir had first met Gulpilil in 1973 while
shooting an episode for a British television series, and
through long conversations with him, he realized the following:
Everything I had been taught in school about the
Aborigines was total hogwash...The absurdity of history
books which teach that the Aborigines were a kind of Stone
Age people in the dawn of time, nomadic, without any
culture of significance, that they collapsed in contact
with a more advanced superior and complex culture...1
realized that the Aborigine culture was very much alive,
if underground, so to speak.46
During script development, Weir tailored his project for
the commercial market locally and overseas, not wanting The
------------------------ 2 9 7
McElroy to produce Last Wave, and they were able to get a
$120,000 commitment from the South Australian Film Corporation
(eager to do another project with Weir after the success of
Picnic) a sum matched by the AFC. (Hie AFC had been reluctant
to enter the project before because the "budget was too big,
the special effects too difficult, and the film too hard to
sell.")48 Another $50,000 was invested by Janus Films (a West
German company which thereby obtained distribution rights for
Germany, Austria, areas in Switzerland and Scandinavia) ,49
Head of Janus, Klaus Helwig, with the help of Jeannie Seawell
(an international film sales agent with links to the Australian
film industry) was able to interest United Artists. (Helwig's
friend Ernest Goldschmidt was head of international production
for UA.) While United Artists was considering involvement in
Taa-h Wave. Weir was considering several international stars,
including Richard Chamberlain, for the lead role for the
lawyer, David Burton. Chamberlain had seen Picnic at Hanging
Rock, and liked it very much, and when Weir approached him,
Chamberlain agreed to do the project. According to Seawell,50
Chamberlain's casting probably helped to seal the deal with UA,
who finally put in he largest portion of the $640,000 budget
— $350,000. For Weir, Chamberlain "carried the 'through line1
of his concept:"
I always found him very interesting as an actor and felt
that there was something he hadn't done yet, and I thought
this film was that... .Richard is a sunny day person, but
there's a shadow in his face...a half light...Some sort of
2 9 8
darkness. I knew he had that quality and I knew it hadn't
been used, and I thought that's what I can capture.51
As in Picnic at Hanging Rock. Weir examines a political
dynamic amidst a "mysterious atmosphere." Instead of sexual
mysteries, however, the Last Wave explores the mysteries of
tribal Aborigines. A white lawyer, David Burton, is asked to
defend a group of Aborigines who are implicated in the murder
of another Aborigine. Through his association with a member of
the group, Chris, David not only learns that he is a
descendent of an ancien trace of South American priests who
have spiritual links with Chris's tribe, but also that Chris
has been trying to warn David through his dreams of the coming
Apocalypse. David, however, has been indoctrinated by his
society and its institutions (including the Law, Christianity
and Science) and resists his role, thereby acting as an agent
of the white community which continues to suppress the
Aborigine culture-lined to nature's rhythms and cycles via the
Aborigine conception of creation and existence — the
Dreamtime.
A sudden and powerful hail storm at the beginning of the
narrative, later followed by rainstorms of increasing
intensity, suggests that the head of Aborigine tribal group,
Charlie, who possesses tremendous supernatural powers, has
conspired with nature to seek revenge on the white civilization
for its two centuries of crimes to the Aborigines. While the
storm wreaks havoc on an outback school run by a white teacher
2 9 9
and attended by primarily white children, nearby, Charlie
paints a series of concentric circles (the Aborigine sign for
water) on an overhanging rock, as if to welcome nature's
destruction of the white institution, and seal a secret pact.
Though he lives in Sydney with urban Aborigines in run-down
tenements, Charlie still practices ancient Aborigine rituals
under the city with a small group of tribal Aborigines,
speaking their native Aborigine language. The location of the
sacred secret site demonstrates the traditional positioning of
the Aborigines below (i.e., inferior to) the whites. The site,
however is cleverly hidden near the city's sewer system, the
one place a white person would never go. Charlie is fiercely
protective of the underground culture. To demonstrate this, he
has killed an Aborigine intruder Bill Gorman, by pointing a
magic bone at him and stopping his heart.52 Billy had invaded
the site and stolen sacred artifacts intending to sell them for
a profit, using the culture as commodity (and demonstrating
his/the Aborigine corruption by association with the white
community). David's investigation into Billy's death threatens
the tribal secrets, for Charlie sees David only as an agent of
the white civilization, an invader of the Aborigine community
and destroyer of its culture. His small tribe, forced
underground, for safety, is the last vestige of several
thousand men and women. In response to David's inquiries, he
moves from a passive to active role. At first he avoids contact
with David, by pretending he does not understand or speak
3 0 0
thousand men and women. In response to David's inquiries, he
moves from a passive to active role. At first he avoids contact
with David, by pretending he does not understand or speak
English. But he soon puts David under surveillance — his
supernatural powers enable him to transform into an owl,
perched in disguise like a sentry outside David's house. His
subsequent warnings imply violent action — he appears in
David's dream dressed like a warrior, and threatens to kill him
should he go ahead with the trial.
Chris, however, (who also has special transformational
powers) is friendly to David, and serves as David's mentor. He
is not linked with the destructive forces that Charlie has
conjured up, suggesting the potential of the Aboriginal
community to enlighten the white society. (He is, however,
protective of the tribe's activities, and fearful of Charlie's
power, and reluctant to discuss the circumstances surrounding
Bill's death.) Chris has the power to communicate with David
two ways — through conscious experience (their conversations),
and through David's dreams, a practice his tribe/family
actively use, especially when one of them is in trouble. Chris
actively exercises his unconscious.
David has been encouraged to ignore his dreams by his
step-father, a minister, who has placed God as the supreme and
only spiritual being with supernatural powers, and who
(indirectly) discounted David's special role as Mulcural as
well as his links with other spiritual beings (the ancient
3 0 1
beliefs shaken when David dreamed that his mother was going to
j die months before her actual death. Thus, by repressing
i David's unconscious he could get rid of the inexplicable
J mysteries.
i
• Like his father, David has embraced those institutions
\
that impose logic and order on the world. His choosing to be a
lawyer demonstrates his affinity to the power of reason.
t
I Further, he trusts science to explain (away) nature's
i
phenomena. He listens intently as the weatherman casually
dismisses the outback storm and subsequent torrents rain as
freakish, rare happenings during a 'normal' dry summer. So
David fails to understand the implications of the recurring
bouts of bad weather. Further, he must consult an anthro
pologist to understand what Mulcural means, but she only gives
him basic white textbook information, saying that the Mulcural
were a race of ancient spirits from South America once active
in Sydney (who had contact with the Aborigines), who used the
triangular Mulcural stone in their ceremonies. The Mulcural
had incredible premonitory dreams of cataclysm (a freeze,
flood, big rain) to mark the end of nature's cycle before
renewal and rebirth. She functions as an agent of white
society, which sees itself as superior to "primitive" (non
white) cultures, denying any links between South American
culture and the white community, commenting that the Mulcural
cannot be a white man, thereby denying David's special role.
Thus she operates like David's stepfather, discounting dreams
3 0 2
culture and the white community, commenting that the Mulcural
cannot be a white man, thereby denying David's special role.
Thus she operates like David's stepfather, discounting dreams
and ancient links — adding to his continuing bewilderment with
his irrepressible unconscious. As Chris tells him in
exasperation, "You don't know what dreams are anymore!"
His confusion about the role of dreams is most
dramatically demonstrated when his daughter has a dream of
dying and "going to heaven" (she may be clairvoyant, like her
father). Unlike, David, who repressed his dreams as a child,
his daughter verbalizes the dream to her mother which David
overhears. The dream is coded in Christian ideology which has
shaped her perspective of the afterlife. Her vision of heaven
is lovely — containing angels with pink satin robes and Jesus,
her savior. Though this vision re-affirms that David's visions
of a deadly flood of monstrous proportions is imminent, and
that he and his family will certainly die, David resists making
any sense of his and his daughter' s visions, only saying to
Chris, "My dreams are about water, your secret is linked to
water." He sends his family away from Sydney, but he doesn't
know why. The anthropologist also downplays the importance and
richness of the Aborigine culture by giving a simplified mean
ing of the Dreamtime, an a finite spiritual cycle. "Whatever
happens in the Dreamtime establishes the values, symbols and
laws of the Aborigine society." What she fails to say is that
the Aborigine Dreamtime is an alternative version of creation
3 0 3
earth, then disappeared back into its many features, the land,
water, sky. The Aborigines perceive their material world as an
embodiment of their ancestors. Her discounting of the ideology
of another culture demonstrates white society's ethnocentri-
city. The anthropologist's academic simplification and
repression of the Aborigine culture implies the same racism
that Michael Zeidler, David's lawyer colleague demonstrates.
He pretends to be a champion of their rights (just as she
pretends to take an interest in them, but both have made their
careers studying and "capitalizing on" the Aborigines.) Michael
blames the Aborigines for the disintegration of their culture -
- effacing their own language, ceremonies, songs and tribal
laws when history has proven that the whites were the destruc
tive ones. Michael also deprives the Aborigines of their
uniqueness by conveniently referring to them as an extension of
the white civilization, "they are the same as poor whites."
By the time of the trial, David is still clinging to his
society's institutions — he believes the system will exonerate
the accused (because the death was tribal matter and out of its
jurisdiction). However, he perceives Chris as an adversary, a
witness withholding valuable information that could help the
case. Their uneasy relationship functions in the context of
the trial, which plays out the historic white contempt for the
Aborigines and its need to reinforce the authority of the white
state. Ironically, Bill's death did not even effect the white
community; the state merely needs an excuse to dramatize white
3 0 4
Aborigines and its need to reinforce the authority of the white
state. Ironically, Bill's death did not even effect the white
community; the state merely needs an excuse to dramatize white
supremacy. This was demonstrated right after Bill's murder
when the agents of the white state, the police acted out their
authority in an aggressive, hostile manner, jamming the accused
Aborigines into their prison cells causing them to scream out
in pain. Later, the detective in charge of the case plays out
his racist attitudes, as he discusses with the coroner the
reasons for Bill's death. The coroner comments that Bill's
heart "just stopped beating," but that the small amount of
water in Billy's lungs could have drowned him. The detective
then comments, "Didn't you tell me that a cup of water was
enough to drown a sheep?" Then, he snickers, as if providing
the punch line to a joke, "Half a cup ought to be enough to
drown an Aborigine," — as if the Aborigines were just another
group of dumb animals.
The prosecutor's opening remarks to an all-white jury
demonstrate that a trial by peers is a myth for the convenience
of perpetrating the white order, his remarks cynically
encapsulating years of Imperial persecution of the colonials;
Your verdict must not reflect in any way the sympathy we
all feel for a few unhappy survivors of the original
inhabitants of this land, operating until the arrival of
the white man under a system of tribal laws. You must
not let the sorry history of the conflict between
Europeans and Aborigines cloud your judgment.
The trial proves to be a sham, even though the attending doctor
at Billy-'-s-autopsy-gives-evidence~that-could-serve-to-exonerate
3 0 5
river to jail, just as Michael Zeidler predicted — clearly he
has no reservations about the system doing its job. Chris,
wary of Charlie’s power refuses to reveal trial secrets; but he
also realizes the folly of the trial, telling the white court
w h a t , they already believe, that the Aborigines are drunken
savages-”we got drunk, had a fight, that's all."
Chris, however, still regards David as his friend, and
later makes one last attempt to enlighten him by taking him to
the sacred caves, endangering his own life, breaking the laws
of his tribe (His disappearance implies that he dies as a
human, but suggests that he can transform into another form of
life, compatible with the Aborigine belief that life functions
in infinite cycles.) Scanning the walls of the cave, David
realizes his role as Mulcural, as he sees a pointing of a white
man holding the Mulcural stone (he also finds a mask which is
his likeness); nearby are drawings of phases of the moon,
raindrops and large wave. David finally understands the
implications of links between his dreams, visions and the
weather. His need for "concrete evidence," however,
demonstrates the limitations of the white culture. David can
read the manifest content, but is unable to make sense of
latent images from his unconscious and link these to conscious
experience, an ability that the Aborigines actively exercise.
David is confronted by Charlie, who sees him as an invader
and thief (David has gathered up several artifacts) David hits
Charlie over the head with the Mulcural stone, playing out the
3 0 6
violent white genocide of the Aborigines, suggesting David is
programmed with the white instinct to kill, which supercedes
his ancient links with the Aborigines. Overcame with grief and
guilt, realizing he has destroyed the potential for his and his
society's growth by collaboration with the Aborigine culture,
he flees through the sewer drainpipes to the ocean, where a
huge tidal wave curls and soars above him, arching in the same
configuration as the overhanging rock that Charlie painted at
the beginning of the narrative, demonstrating nature's bond
with the Aborigines in its revenge incurred against the white
civilization for its genocide. The wave threatens to wipe out
all of white civilization in Australia.
The McElroys and Weir decided to open The Last Wave
overseas "to build its credentials" there first. The print was
not ready until the middle of 1977 (too late for entry at
Cannes), but was entered in November in the Paris and Teheran
(Iran) film festivals, winning the Jury Prize in the former and
the Grand Prize in the latter. In December, Last Wave premiered
in Adelaide, then in Sydney and Melbourne, doing good business
in the cities, but poorly in the suburbs and the country (where
Picnic had drawn its heaviest support).54
Local critics praised Wave's haunting, foreboding
atmosphere. The United States premier of Last Wave was in Los
Angeles at the film exposition (April, 1978) and audiences were
dazzled by the film. World Northal impressed with the film's
commercial potential, bought the United States distribution
3 0 7
rights for Wave, and screenings were held in Los Angeles and
New York in Spring, 1979. The excellent reception significantly
saved the film from running in the red from local screenings
alone. Last Wave was on Variety's Top 50 Box Office list for
six months, and it grossed one million from United States
screenings alone. As Weir commented in Los Angeles, when the
film opened, the American market was crucial to the film.55
Weir's United States success boosted his credibility, and
Atlantic Releasing picked up the American rights to Picnic.
Richard Chamberlain's international reputation was boosted
considerably from The Last Wave, and a few years later he was
cast in role for the American television mini-series, The Thom
Birds, based on Australian writer Colleen McCullough's novel
(which Weir was going to direct as a theatrical feature, but
eventually turned down).
Weir's mystification of the Aborigines masks a rather
superficial commentary on the Aborigine culture, as though he
included only the most exotic information about the Aborigines
after his long discussions with Gulpilil, not trusting his
presentation of the political conflict to carry the film —
just as his uneasiness about his examination of turn-of-the-
century British-Austral ian tensions prompted him to eroticize
Picnic at Hancrincr Rock. In one of the few reviews local or
international to criticize the film on jxast these issues,
Pauline Kael pointed out that the Aborigines are presented
only in terms of "magic, dream speak, nobility, intuition,
harmony with nature."56 Kael continues, "The modem guilt-
ridden whites see the Aborigines as spiritually superior —
opposed to the white bigots of the past who saw them as
mentally inferior."57
The Last Wave romanticizes its victims.. .instead of seeing
(the Aborigine) as victims of expansionist drives and
colonial policies.. .as people whose rights were violated
and must be restored as quickly as possible.58
She concludes, "Chris and Charlie — custodians of our
consciousness — are what self-hating whites emotionally need
them to be, our betters."59 American audiences clearly bought
the notion of the distant mystified culture, while local
spectators were uncomfortable with the reversed hierarchy, as
well as Weir's indictment against white civilization.
Because Christ and Charlie are so superior, David often
seems downright ignorant. (It's hard to believe that such a
passive man could kill another.) His perpetual inability to
make sense of his dreams, in spite of the information given to
him by Chris, the anthropologist, amidst the increasing inten
sity of the rain is frustrating, especially since the spectator
figures out long before David does that the flood is coming
(unlike Picnic, where the spectator only knew as much as or
even less than the principle characters). Weir's Aborigine
mysteries became excessive, an end to themselves, and the
spectator learns very little about Aborigine life. Further,
the Aborigines are in as much danger as the white community at
3 0 9
the end of the film, as the gigantic tidal wave threatens to
wipe them out also!
Breaker Morant
Since 1976, Bruce Beresford had wanted to make a film
about tum-of-the-century British court martial of an Anglo-
Austral ian, Harry "Breaker" Morant, and two Australian soldiers
for killing Boers prisoners and a German missionary in South
Africa during the Boer Wars (skirmishes taking place, 1899-
1901, between Imperial Britain and Dutch farmers over land
rights and sovereignty). This was a subject consistent with
the anti-British themes inherent in Beresford1 s Barry McKenzie
films in the early 70's, though he was not able to focus on
this project until 1978 (having commitments to make three other
films).60 After approaching several financiers, he was able to
obtain an initial investment of $250,000 from the South
Australian Film Commission. Channel 7 later put of $60,000 (in
return for television rights), and the rest of the $860,000
budget came from private investors.
Beresford then began to do extensive research on
Morant's life and Boer wars, locating a novel written on his
life (The Brave One), yet he discovered that the trial "the
most interesting part" — was only given a few pages at the end
of the book. Some un-produced scripts were in circulation, and
in 1978 a play had been staged in Melbourne which did focus on
the court martial itself, and Beresford became convinced that
3 1 0
the trial should be the focus of his screenplay. Beresford
went to London to continue his research, visiting the Army
Museum in Kensington, reading letters and diaries of Australian
soldiers, and examining historical records of the events
leading up to Morant's trial. He even found photographs which
showed the barracks where the Australian soldiers lived (which
later help his art director capture the period and the
conditions under which they lived). Though Beresford discovered
that there was no transcript of the trial itself61 he conferred
with Kenneth Griffith, a Welsh actor who was an authority on
the Boer wars, and gave him access to a large folder of
information which he had accumulated on Morant's life. As he
dug deeper into his subject, Beresford became increasingly
impressed by the "dignity and pluck of the self-exiled British
officer and his Australian co-defendants.1,62 He and his
producer Matt Carroll, were also interested in the modem day
parallels to the tum-of-the-century Imperial war — namely
Vietnam.63
In preparing his script, Beresford deviated considerably
from the actual accounts of Morant, which depicted him as a
"hot-headed mass murderer64 cheat, bare-faced liar, male
chauvinist pig, racist and sadist,"65 choosing, instead to
romanticize him, and create "a sensitive individualist, both a
poet and a baritone, whose sense of honor is tested in what is
called the first, no-holds barred guerrilla war."66 Beresford
acknowledged a great fondness for the soldiers, wanting
3 1 1
audiences to share his viewpoint and reconsider the sensibility
of someone like Morant67 by creating a more sympathetic
character.
Though bom in England, Morant spent many years in
Australia as a soldier, becoming an expert horseman — hence
his name "Breaker" — as well as an accomplished poet. However,
he led a roguish existence, and developed a reputation as a
flagrant womanizer, which caused his family undue embarrassment
back in England, and they more or less cut off ties with him.
According to one historian, Morant entered the Boer wars to
recover "caste" and looked forward to someday returning to
England in a "blaze of glory" to atone for his Australian
reputation.68 Though he never renounced his British citizen
ship, the British commanders who tried him, regarded him as
Australian, and the film encourages the viewer to think of him
as an Australian.
Beresford structured his narrative by intercutting the
scenes from the courtroom with flashbacks of the actual events
on the veldt alluded to during the trial, opening up the
courtroom drama and putting it in the context of the veldt,
"counterpointing, complementing, or in a few cases contra
dicting testimony given in court."69 One of the producers was
wary of the narrative design, arguing that the film would
either lose audiences (especially when the veldt scenes
contradicted what was said in court), or bore them (presenting
something in flashback that was more or less explained in
312
court) ,70 but Beresford. insisted on the structure, feeling that
if "the context [were] right and intercutting done with a
certain logic, audiences would understand.71
In casting the film, Beresford wanted an Englishman for
Morant. Though financiers and Actors Equity wanted the
character to be played by an Australian, Beresford persisted,
and chose Edward Woodward whose work he had admired from the
British television and in the 1978 film Wicker Man (in which
Woodward had played the powerful head of a biblical cult). For
the role of the inexperienced Australian lawyer chosen to
defend the three accused, Beresford cast star Jack Thompson
against the ocker type he had played in Sunday Too Far Away and
Petersen. A relative unknown Bryan Brown, (who had played a
bit part in Jimmie Blacksmith) was cast as Handcock.
Breaker Morant takes place in 1901 in South Africa during
the latter years of the trial of Captain Harry "Breaker" Morant
and his two Australian colleagues, Lieutenants Peter Handcock
and George Witten for the murders of Boers prisoners and a
German missionary. The men belong to a specially trained
guerrilla force, the Bushveldt Carboniers, brought in by the
British to fend off Boer commands attacks on British settle
ments (which the British troops are unable to do themselves.)
However, the trial is a formality on the part of the British
government, and is intended to appease another Imperial power,
Germany, angered over the missionary's death. Britain and
Germany have royal ties (the Kaiser is the grandson of the late
3 1 3
Queen (Victoria); further, the British wish to prevent Germany
from entering the war on the side of the Boers and are eager to
protect their mineral rights in South Africa. Though the
Australians have served the British, they are now being used as
scapegoats in Imperial politics.
The trial demonstrates Imperial Britain's tum-of-the-
century ambivalence about Australia — ■ theoretically an
independent nation for several months (January 1, 1901), but
still perceived by Britain as a colony. The trial further shows
the insecurity of the new Australian nation-state, which is
eager to please Imperial Britain by complying with the trial.
The government of Australia wants a quick indictment to efface
the country's world-wide notoriety as an uncivilized frontier
land, demonstrating it still lives in the image of its mentor,
sophisticated, "civilized" Britain, and sees itself as a
colony.
At the trial, the British state is represented by the
military establishment which uses court martial to play out its
authority and control over the colonials. The military repre
sentatives use strong arm tactics, duplicity and even perjury
to indict the accused. Though the defense attorney, Major
Thomas, constructs a brilliant defense, demonstrating that the
Australians were only following practices common to the three-
year guerrilla war in their execution of the prisoners, and
were acting on unwritten orders from Lord Kitchener, head of
South African forces, the court decrees that Handcock and
3 1 4
Morant should be shot for their crimes against the Boers (and
Witten imprisoned for life). Ironically, they are acquitted on
the one murder they did commit — that of the German
missionary. British dignity is thus restored in the eyes of
the world, the Imperial control over the colony reinforced.
Morant, Handcock and Witten represent the social, economic
and political climate in Australia at the tum-of-the-century,
each man enlisting for different reasons. Morant is an
adventurous soldier of fortune out for the glory of becoming a
high ranking officer, using the military to boost his status
(Self-educated, he is already an accomplished poet.) With his
friend and mentor, Briton Captain Hunt, Morant has proved
himself a competent leader, cleaning up the Australian
carbonier ranks, destroying their illegal stills, forcing the
men to return stolen cattle to the Boers. The torture/murder
of Hunt, however, has demonstrated the terrible toll that the
war has on Morant, one of its best soldiers, turning the war
adventure sour.
Handcock, a working class in the ranks of the unemployed
during the recession with a wife and small child to support,
simply needs a job. He perceives the war as a macho sporting
adventure, and is not adverse to bedding the wives of Boer men
who are away on duty. Handcock is at home on the veldt, and
ingeniously adopts Boer tactics — he stops their practice of
blowing up British trains by putting car loads of Boers in
front of the trains. He also captures a group of 1 1 surrenderers1 1
3 1 5
figuring out that they intended to ambush his troop with
exploding dum-dum bullets.
Witten is the youngest (in his early twenties), and has
joined at the insistence of his militaristic father "to keep
the Empire intact." Each represents at least two generations
of traditional loyalist Australians tied to Imperial Britain.
On the veldt, Witten is awkward and vulnerable, as if he
thought that the nasty guerrilla war would be like a nineteenth
century gentleman's war. The incident that leads to his
indictment happens because a Boer senses his ineptness, and
jumps him to take his gun and kill Witten, who manages to shoot
the Boer in self-defense. Throughout the trial, Witten main
tains his loyalist sentiments, and believes that the British
system will judge him and his colleagues fairly. He even
chides Morant and Handcock for lying about their complicity in
the murder of the missionary. Only when they are sentenced
does he realize the sham of the trial, his subsequent book
about his experience, Scapegoats of the Empire reflecting his
cynicism intended for future generations to learn from his
naivety about blind obedience to a "noble" Empire cause.
The lawyer from the bush, Major Thomas, epitomizes the
tum-of-the-century image of Australia held by the British Sate
— the unsophisticated country bumpkin — chosen by the British
court precisely because of his inexperience in military courts
(his forte is land deeds) and because he is conveniently
serving as a carbonier in South Africa himself. The court
3 1 6
presumes Thomas will offer no resistance. (To make sure, they
only give him a day to prepare, in comparison to the six weeks
allotted to the slick British prosecutor, Major Bolton.)
However, Thomas proves to be intelligent, clever and skillful
in defending the accused.
For example, he takes Bolton's first set of witnesses —
several soldiers with grudges against Morant and Hunt, and a
disgruntled ex-carbonier commander — and turns their testimony
into supporting statements on behalf of the defense, proving
that there were precedents for shooting Boer prisoners even
before Hunt and Morant took over, immediately deflating the
prosecution. Thomas's real adversary, however, is not Bolton
but Major Denny, the stiff-lipped martinet who represents the
powerful military establishment which defends the Empire at the
zenith of its power — Britain has colonies in strategic places
all over the world, and a powerful navy and army to protect
them. The military perceives itself as having divine links —
on Sundays, the pastor asks God to accompany British soldiers
in war and in peace. As if his power has been challenged in
the early days of the trial by the resourceful Australian,
Major Denny overrules and denies Thomas's motions, and cut his
arguments short to put the colonial in his place and to prove
that the Imperial military might is right.
When Thomas asks that the trial be dismissed on the
grounds that it is unconstitutional, pointing out that
Australia is an independent nation and its citizens are to be
3 1 7
tried by their own courts, Denny re-affirms the power structure
and quickly denies the motion, arguing that Australian forces
are colonial forces under the command of Lord Kitchener. The
absurdity of Denny's/the military’s position is most dramatic
ally demonstrated when Handcock, Morant and Witten single-
handedly defend the fort against a surprise Boer attack, one
morning, saving the fort from a certain take-over by the
commandos, not only proving their skill and courage but
unquestioned allegiance to the British. Accordingly, when
Thomas requests that the men be pardoned in light of their
heroic action, Denny just dismisses the morning's events as if
they never happened, demonstrating that the men were used to do
the dirty work just as they have been used in the Boer war and
(now) as pawns British-German Imperial politics. Though Thomas
finds a passage in military law written by Wellington that
would set a precedent for the men's immediate acquittal, the
very fact that he must consult a Briton "who influenced nearly
all military law" demonstrates his intractable and helpless
position. Denny never investigates the event that precipitated
the Boer attack — the key British sentry guarding the fort was
seduced by a Boer woman, and he may be covering up the incident
completely. Yet, later, when Handcock presents his alibi for
the missionary's death — he was visiting two Boer women at the
time — Denny makes special point to chastise Hancock,
declaring that Handcock's 'offensive' morals should be put on
trial. What may be bothering Denny is the fact that the
3 1 8
British have been cuckolded, and (worse) proven to be
ineffective soldiers, in comparison to Handcocks' Australian
prowess in the battlefield and in bed, undermining the British
power structure.
Denny's double standard foregrounds Britain's duplicity.
Though Britain is officially at war with the Boers, the
commanding officers consort with the Boer leaders; this liaison
is demonstrated right before the trial when the British host a
dinner for several Boer guests (Thomas, who has just arrived,
is also invited.) The officers praise their ' friends,'
reverently listening to a Boer tenor sing several songs after
rigorously condemning Morant, the real enemy, demonstrating
Britain's two levels of operation — military diplomacy at the
dinner table, guerrilla tactics (via their Australian lackeys)
on the veldt. Further, two British agents lie in court. The
Boer scout, Botha (who may be a double agent, working for his
own people and the carboniers), sells out to the British. Botha
may have been responsible for the Boer attack on Captain Hunt's
troop, but as a flashback shows, he quickly sides with the
carboniers, picking up a rifle from a dead Boer to join in the
carhonier firing squad to shoot the prisoner who killed Captain
Hunt. But in court Botha insists that he was ordered by Morant
to shoot the Boers, thus supporting Bolton1 s point that the
carboniers behaved in a cruel and irregular manner. The fact
that Hunt's torture and slow death is never discussed makes the
British complicity with the Boer even more heinous. Further,
3 1 9
Colonel Hamilton, with Kitchener's blessing perjures himself
and denies that he ever relayed orders from Kitchener to Hunt
to shoot Boer prisoners, undercutting Thomas's whole defense.
The British attache, Major Taylor, is the most devious.
As an intelligence officer, he is a carbonier liaison, as well
as a (cover) spy, responsible for filing the report which
implicated the three men in the killings which initiated the
whole inquiry. As the flashbacks show, Taylor himself played a
major role in shooting prisoners, often taking a special,
almost sadistic pleasure in killing them. After Hunt's death,
(when Morant is too overwrought to act), it is Taylor who
orders a firing squad to kill a group of Boers. In court (he
is Thomas's witness) Taylor cavers his duplicity, speaking
well of Morant — "a good fellow and soldier" — and later,
alone with Morant, offers him a horse to get away. Even though
Bolton points out that Taylor is up for a court martial himself
for his role in the Boer killings, (though it is not clear just
how much the British know about the events), Taylor knows he is
in a safe position, immune from prosecution, demonstrating the
British determination to indict only the Australians. "They
don't want me," he flippantly remarks to Morant at the end of
the trial. Accordingly, he is never brought to trial and even
receives a promotion for his "co-operation" — continuing to
serve the British state in a Senior Administrative post in
South Africa.
3 2 0
Denny essentially finishes what Taylor started, as if they
had a "secret" part, for Denny casts the deciding vote to
j indict the three, getting rid of the colonial problem by a
| firing squad and a banishment, paving the way for a peace
t
»
| conference with the Boers, placating the Germans and restoring
i
the British balance of power. As the bodies of Morant and
Handcock are loaded into pine boxes, "Soldiers of the Queen"
j is sung in voice over, re-affirming Britain's dominance over
! colonies in South Africa, Australia, as well as all over the
globe, an ironic tribute to the colonial scapegoats who have
"served" Imperial Britain: "Though when we say England's
master, remember vho has made her so — It's the soldiers of
! the Queen."
\
Beresford and his producers chose to submit Breaker Morant
i
for competition at Cannes, going for international recognition,
1 before arranging for screenings in Australia. The film was
I
j selected for official competition in May, 1980, the third time
| an Australian film had been selected (after My Brilliant
j Career. 1979, and Chant of Jimmie Blacksmith. 1978). The jury
was so impressed with the film that it created a special
category for Jack Thompson, giving him an award for Best
Supporting Actor (the first time this award had been given).72
Because of the excellent response at Cannes, the film was sold
to several countries in Scandinavia, Europe, as well as South
Africa, Britain. New World and Quartet Films bought United
States distribution rights for "a six figure sum" and the film
321
did very well in throughout the country. As several critics
have pointed out, perhaps Breaker Morant took on special
significance for Americans because of its allusions to the
Vietnam war, though the film is a strong statement against wars
of any kind:
.. .wars are dirty.. .honor as conventionally understood is
of a doubtful quality. There are no utterly pure good
guys [and] heroes are inevitably flawed by the very nature
of what they are doing.21
Back in Australia, distributors Roadshow used the Cannes
accolades to publicize the film (with elaborate press kits
about the 'obscure ' war containing maps of South Africa,
sections from historical texts on Morant, and a several page
essay on the Boer wars by Beresfond himself). Morant opened in
Adelaide in late May to strong business and later played in
Sydney and Melbourne, ultimately grossing over $1.5 million
dollars, becoming the most successful film of the year, later
one of the most successful films of the decade. Morant
subsequently won nine out of ten AFI awards, including Best
Picture, Editing, Direction, Screenplay, Cinematography, and
Supporting Actor (to Bryon Brown).
Clearly, this spirited, nationalistic film eulogizes the
three Australian soldiers tragically betrayed by the cruel
British high command that they have so loyally served. As
several Australian critics have pointed out, the men are close
to the Australian self-image, which exudes manliness, mateship,
and sardonic dignity. The often crude and irreverent Handcock
322
is the ideal ocker comrade, and the spectator is delighted by
and identifies with the familiar pugnacious anti-British
larrikans.
Australian film critic, Stephen Crofts, while acknowledg
ing the uniformly "passionate" praise for the film in all
English speaking countries, also pointed out in his analysis of
the film a major structuring absence. Because of Beresford's
exclusive focus on the Australian-British dynamic, he avoids
any analysis of the cultural/historical situation of the Boers
and Black Africans at the tum-of-the-century. Crofts
comments,
The historical, military, economic and political existence
of Black Africans is totally erased (we see them briefly-
one in the company of Botha, one as a court scribe, one
sweeping the courtroom one morning). The Boers are
physically present, but historically absent.. .any view
point they may have — political, economic, ideological or
even moral — is simply not depicted. When shown, the
Boers always appear bearded, scruffy and shifty looking.74
He asks, "What does Imperialism mean for the everyday life of a
Boer or Black?"
Crofts further argues that the cultural and political
similarities between the Boer in South Africa and the
Australians in Australia could have been foregrounded, as both
cultures were colonized by the British, and both were living in
the aftermath of oppression."75 But because the film is told
from the "Imperialist political cultural viewpoint," the
British right to even be in South Africa (and elsewhere) is
barely questioned (certainly the three accused never raise the
323
issue), and Beresford neglects an opportunity to open up the
film and discuss the greater context of 18th and 19th century
British Imperialism (1900 the zenith of the Empire). Another
minority, women, are given only marginal treatment via various
types: "ladies in waiting" — brief scenes of Handcock bidding
his wife good-bye, or Morant signing to his adoring fiancee;
"duplicitous two timers" — the Boer woman seducing the British
sentry; or as sexual objects — Hancock's afternoon frolics
with Boer wives. Clearly, Beresford has chosen to idealize the
three Australians at the expense of grossly minimalizing the
roles of Boers, Blacks and women in order to make an anti-
British statement, generating patriotic fever for the stalwart
Australian underdogs.
In the past several years, Beresford has worked on
variety of films in Australia, the United States and England.
In 1981 he directed Puberty Blues, examining the coming of age
for two adolescent girls growing up on the beaches of Sydney,
and in 1982 he was chosen to direct Tender Mercies. an American
independent project, featuring Robert Duvall, playing a
recovering alcoholic trying to resurrect his song-writing and
singing career. Beresford fulfilled his dream of directing a
Biblical epic, King David in 1984, choosing American star
Richard Gere for the title role (and Edward Woodward for the
role of Saul). David was a commercial failure (unlike the
popular and profitable Blues and Mercies), and Beresford
returned to Australia to work on The Fringe Dwellers (1985)
3 2 4
which, examined several months in the life of a young Aborigine
girl growing up in the bush "on the fringes" of white
Australia. His latest American film is Crimes of the Heart,
based on the play by Beth Heley, featuring actresses Diane
Keaton, Sissy Spacek and Jessica Lang, as three eccentric
sisters who reconvene for several days in the rural Mississippi
house where they grew up.
Edward Woodward has fared well from his association with
Beresford, now having his own television series, The Equalizer,
in which he plays a modern-day vigilante (retired from the CIA)
working the streets of New York helping the city's victims.
Newsfront
Newsfront focuses on two rival newsreel crews, one
Australian the other American owned, functioning in the context
of an eight year post-war period during the Menzies regime.
The idea for the film was initiated in 1975, when David Elfick,
surfing documentary filmmaker, Phillippe Mora, documentary/
feature filmmaker, and Mike Molloy, former newsreel cameraman,
were discussing one afternoon the role of newsreel in the film
industry.
(All) agreed that Australian films were well-mounted and
naturalistic, but because of low budgets, they lacked
spectacle, and the greatest spectacle could be in the old
newsreels.76
They thought an effective way to use newsreels would be to
integrate them into a film narrative. Later, Mike Molloy
325
introduced two of his friends and former newsreel cameramen,
Ross and Sid Wood, to Elrick, and the meeting produced the idea
of centering a narrative around two brothers representing rival
companies set in the greater context of events from the period.
Elfick's eventual treatment modeled the two 50's companies,
"Cinetone" and "Newsco" on the actual companies Cinesound and
Movietone News (owned by 20th Century Fox). The head of
Cinetone, A.G. Marwood, was based on Ken G. Hall, who had run
Cinesound studios in the 30' s, and the newsreel agency in the
40's and 50's. Elfick (who eventually served as producer)
asked playwright Bob Ellis to write the screenplay, and Ellis
injected the right balance of humor and sentimentality that
Elfick wanted.77 Ellis was helped considerably by Howard
Rubie, who had filmed a huge flood that took place in Australia
in 1954 (the Maitland floods), which became a major sequence in
the film,78 and Rubie also provided Ellis with first-hand
information about the period.
Ellie's final draft was almost four hours long — an epic
panorama spanning more than ten years of Australian history."79
Elfick decided it was time to select a director; he chose
Phillip Noyce, who had experience in documentary and fiction
films. Since 1968, Noyce had been associated with UHJ Films an
organization run by several experimental filmmakers, and he had
also helped establish the Sydney Filmmakers Coop in 1968,
Australia's first alternative distribution agency, later
becoming its manager. In 1972, he was accepted into the newly
326
formed Film and Television School, and later his cinema-verite
documentary, Castor and Pollux, about two middle-aged men (a
biker and a hippie guru) who live outside conventional society,
won him the Rouben Mamoulian award at the Sydney Film Festival.
This put him into the spotlight and attracted Elfick's
attention. Noyce had also made other films where he mixed
archive footage with recreated scenes, and based upon his
experience, Elfick took a chance on Noyce and chose him to
direct Newsfront. though Noyce had no experience in directing a
35 mm feature.
Noyce and Ellis set to work refining the script which
Noyce felt was often "un-cinematic and stagy."80 Essentially
Ellis wrote and Noyce edited, though, as Stratton points out,
Ellis "conceived most of the characters and their backgrounds
and wrote virtually all the dialogue." Through many drafts,
the script was still way too long, and finally Elfick hired a
script editor, (at this point, Ellis withdrew from the project,
asking that his name be removed from the credits). Noyce has
commented that the film was 99 percent for Australian
audiences:
The idea was to examine eight pivotal years in Australian
history. Also, for the people who made it — most of whom
reached maturity in the late 60's — Newsfront was an
attempt to come to terms with the preoccupations and
sensibilities of our parents' generation, and to create
the magic and mystique of the 50's newsreels.81
For financing, Elfick had also approached the Australian
Film Commission and the New South Wales Film Corporation, but
327
they insisted that their involvement would be contingent on
Elfick finding a major distributor to handle the film. Elfick
approached Roadshow Distributors, and they were wary of the
project at first. The screenplay was still approximately three
hours, the producer and director were relatively unknown, and
the proposed cast did not contain any stars. They agreed to put
up $25,000, but Elfick was eventually able to talk them into an
investment of $50,000, after arranging for representatives
(General manager Greg Coote, managing director Graham Burke,
and national project manager, Robyn Campbell-Jones) to view the
screen tests of the leads. Roadshow, impressed with the tests,
suggested Wendy Hughes for the major role of A.G. Marwood's
assistant (she would later play Sybylla's Aunt Helen in My
Brilliant Career). Elfick agreed, and finally with the
legitimacy of a major distributor, the AFC and the NSW Film
Corporation agreed to come in with $250,000 each.
After shooting, Noyce and Elfick had the difficult and
often tricky job of intercutting staged footage with actual
newsreels. Often, the newsreel footage threatened to
overshadow the dramatic scenes; hence, many sequences were
shortened and re-shuffled constantly. A more upbeat ending was
added, more compatible with Len's character and the light tone
of the film. Instead of having Len solemnly walk by the State
Theatre (which used to show Cinetone newsreels) new screening
the latest Brigette Bardot film, the filmmakers demonstrate his
firm unshakable ethics, for he refuses to sell his footage to
328
his brother who intends to vise it for propaganda purposes in
the West.
Newsfront was one of the few films of the AFC period to
examine the dynamics of increasing American influence that
began in the wake of World War II, as Australia established
close political and economic ties with the United States. The
film focuses on several years (1948-46) in the life of a
newsreel cameraman (Len McGuire), who works for the Australian-
owned Cinetone News. The events that Len cavers reflect
Australia's growing internationalism — the post-war influx of
European immigrants and the hosting of Olympic Games (1956),
its swing toward Conservatism with the election of the Menzies
Liberal Coalition government (1949), diminishing ties with
Great Britain, and the Americanization of Australian culture.
The narrative focuses on Len's professional and personal
relationships, particularly with his friend and assistant
cameraman, Chris, a British ex-patriot, his brother Frank, the
manager of the rival newsreel company, Newsco International,
his wife, Fay, who supports the Catholic church and the Menzies
government, and his colleague/mistress, Amy, who is also
assistant manager of Cinetone. Len is committed to gathering
the local news in a highly professional manner, and as a
staunch supporter of the Labor Party, he is emblematic of
working class values and a spirited nationalism diminishing in
an era of encroaching American imperialism influencing many
aspects of Australian political and social life. While Len's
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brother "sells out" to live and work in Hollywood, Len holds
out, and remains true to his "old fashioned" values.
Though Noyce begins the narrative by intercutting actual
(black and white) newsreel footage of immigrants docking and
undergoing naturalization ceremonies with the staged black and
white footage of the two news crews covering these events, the
predominant node of presentation of the narrative is color
stock (these scenes intercut with actual news footage) except
for the Maitland flood sequence toward the end of the
narrative, where Noyce matches shot for she the newsreel
footage with narrative scenes (shot in black and white) to
preserve the authenticity of the flood. Noyce has stated that
if he had chosen to shoot the narrative in black and white (the
spectator) "would miss out on experiencing part of the Fifties
trip — the decor, the atmosphere, the brilliance and pastels
of colors, the costumes people wore. It just wouldn't have
been as deep a portrait of the period."82 Hence the newsreel
footage83 serves to document actual political economic and
social events of the time, providing a context for the color
footage personalizing the drama of the characters whose lives
are influenced by these occurrences.
The narrative itself is composed of eight episodes
presented in chronological order (designated by a month or
season and the year), and is prefaced and concluded by scenes
from newsreels which serve to bracket the eight year period and
comment on Australia's involvement in local and world events.
330
The preface immediately addresses the American influence on
Australian culture, as Chico Marx leads a group of Australian
soldiers in singing the Australian national anthem, "Waltzing
Matilda." The preface also "re-caps" the pre-war and war
years, which are mainly characterized by Australian leisure
activities — harness horse racing, cricket, seaside sunning
and swimming, couples dancing the charleston, or joy riding in
a car. The innocent and jubilant tone turns somber with the
declaration of war, as uniformed men march in unison, bombers
soar through the sky, and a ship lists on its side. The
sequence ends with a car crashing and exploding, suggesting the
world's entry into the atomic age, this scene followed by an
elated villain holding up a newspaper, whose headlines announce
that the war is over.
The narrative begins in Sydney, 1948; the rivalry between
Cinetone and Newsco is immediately established as each crew
strives to attain the best coverage of immigrants being sworn
in as new Australian citizens by Prime Minister, Ben Chifley.
Newsco's cameraman, Charlie, deliberately moves his elbow in
front of Len's camera to block his shot. Later in the screening
room at Cinetone's facilities, the head of the company, A.G.
Marwood, is appalled when he sees the ruined footage, but is
also critical of Len's style of coverage. "Frank (who formerly
worked at Cinetone) would have taken a wide shot," he comments.
Whereas Len's style is more personal and intimate, letting the
people's faces and gestures tell the story, Frank shoots for
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action, turning an event into a panoramic spectacle. In ten's
view, however, Frank has sold out, having gone to work for the
more commercially oriented, (and American-owned) Newsco
International, which sensationalizes the news. Accordingly,
ten refers to Frank as a "disloyal self-seeking bastard."
Under A.G. 's management, Cinetone is dedicated to
presenting local news; its logo is the kangaroo and one of its
key stories is the rabbit menace — "Public Enemy Number 1," as
the newsreel narrator comments. Cinetone's inspiration and
model is its late cameraman, Damien Parer, who covered battles
during World War II in Europe, the Middle East and New Guinea,
where he died during an Austral ian-American attach to re
capture Japanese occupied territory. (On Anzac Day,84 April
24, the company presents a tribute to Parer — to hone his
achievements on behalf of the Australian military and Cinetone
news.) A.G., however, is a political conservative, and
supports the Liberal Coalition and its leader, Robert Menzies,
who is gaining strength and popularity over the Labor
contingent (still in power in Parliament). Accordingly, one of
Cinetone1 s featured stories in 1948 is the Red Menace, (later
a favorite target of the Menzies government). A former member
of the Communist party, Malcolm Starkley, has "come clean" to
denounce his prior affiliation and to warn the world of the
international Communist infiltration. When the Cinetone
editor, Geoff, who has leftist leanings, later (November, 1949)
makes Menzies, the newly elected Prime Minister look
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ridiculous, altering footage of his smiling and waving (Menzies
walks forward and backward several times in succession,
suggesting that Australia has stepped backward in electing
Menzies), A.G. is disgusted and threatens to dock Geoff's
wages. The Menzies government instills A.G. with hope that it
will put the ailing feature film industry back on its feet. "I
vised to put out four films a year before the war," he
nostalgically comments. (Cinetone no longer produces feature
films.)
Chief cameraman Len, and his new assistant Chris, have a
good working relationship, and discover their common pasts:
they are both from working class families. As Len comments, he
and his brother grew up in Irish Catholic families during the
Depression (when they both started working for Cinetone),
working their way up through the ranks, and never going on the
dole. Chris, who is in his early twenties, has immigrated from
England for a fresh start, and better working opportunities in
Australia, implying that war tom Britain, has serious economic
problems, including unemployment and inflation. A devout
supporter of the Labor Party, Len boasts to Chris that the two
best Prime Ministers in Australian history are the current one,
Ben Chifley, and his predecessor, John Curtain (both Labor
affiliated). Both Len and Chris have faith in their "young
country" (as Chris refers to Australia). Though they are a
generation apart, Len is a mentor for the eager, diligent
Chris, who admires Len's professional ism and integrity —
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their friendship represents the lingering bonds between
Australia and Britain in an age of American liaisons.
However, their heavy work schedule (they alone comprise
the camera crew for Cinetone) puts a heavy strain on len's
marriage. Wed in April, 1949, len and his wife, Fay build
their house several months later, almost on the eve of the
Menzies election. Fay, solemn and self-righteous, is a devout
'Roman' Catholic and answers to the Pope. She refuses any form
of birth control except that endorsed by the Church (abstin
ence) , which repeatedly irritates Len whom she frequently
shuns. No sooner does she give birth to her first child, then
she is pregnant again. Lying in bed, in her third trimester,
she takes out her frustration on Len for being gone most of the
time on assignment, as she must act as the sole parent. She
even accuses him of infidelity, to which he angrily retorts, "I
don't believe it's my kid anyway." Their bickering over sex
and children (and the dwindling space in their house) takes on
political overtones a few months later at the baptism of their
second child, when Len refuses to take a flyer given out by the
priest of their church, which urges the Australian electorate
to vote yes to the new Menzies referendum calling for a
constitutional amendment outlawing the Communist Party. As the
Cinetone newsreel demonstrated earlier, Menzies, who previously
warn Australians of the Stalinist-backed Communist pressure all
over the world — especially nearby Korea — has failed to put
a law through Parliament banishing the Communist Party. The
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courts have declared such legislation unconstitutional. To
Fay's embarrassment, Len, wary of a repressive Menzies state,
tells the priest that he is wrong to use his position to foist
a political issue on his congregation. Len's resistance
demonstrates the links between Church and State, as a large
catholic contingent makes up the Liberal coalition.
Len's and Fay's political/sexual estrangement is
dramatically demonstrated a few days later: Len accuses Fay of
being a little too friendly to the iceman, who has just made a
delivery to their house, just as the radio announcer reports
that the Menzies referendum has been turned down by the
electorate. "I hope you're satisfied," she snaps at him,
pulling her arm away as he attempts to embrace her (and make
amends for his spiteful comment), using her allegiance to
Menzies and distaste for Len's politics as an excuse to shun
his advances.
In contrast to Len, Frank supports the status quo, and
subscribes to the Menzies anti-red ideology. Because of his
experience with international news preparation at Newsco, he
has been hired to work in Hollywood on a film about the
"Communist Menace". Presumably, the project will be a studio
financed film, produced by the same company that owns Newsco
(inferring Hollywood's deferring to government pressure from
Senator McCarthy's Hearings on Un-American Activities, which
seeks to ferret out all Communist sympathizers who work in the
335
film industry). "America, that's where it's at" Frank proudly
exclaims to Len just before leaving for the States.
Len leaves behind A.G. 's assistant, Amy, whom he has dated
for six years. Their relationship seems based more on their
common interests in the newsreel business (though they work at
rival companies, they presumably met while he was at Cinetone)
than on love. Unlike Len, who exudes warmth and compassion,
Frank is cool and aloof, focused self-centeredly on his macho
image. When Amy cuddles up to him at a Cinetone screening, he
pulls away from her, looking uncomfortable. "There's something
dead about you, Frank" she comments right before he leaves for
the United States, which is as much a statement about his lack
of emotion, as he cold-heartedly climbs to the top of his
profession at the expense of human relationships, as it is a
comment on his stagnant political views. Any may even be a
closet radical herself; she associates with Geoff, and is not
adverse to a sexual frolic with him during work. However, we
sense that Amy is a social and professional climber herself,
and is with Frank for the prestige and status he brings her,
hoping perhaps that the association with him will help her
career. Glamourous, poised and elegant, impeccably dressed and
coiffure, Amy looks like a Hollywood movie star (a comment on
Frank's American links and her need to play up her image). But
she is also educated, intelligent highly respected by A.G. and
the staff, and the only experienced woman in the group. A.G.
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often asks her opinion on the presentation of news content when
the newsreels are being assembled.
Yet Arty is caught in the restrictive patriarchal system
which positions men over women. (And enjoys a joke at their
expense — at one point, Geoff includes same soft core pom —
a woman undressing teasingly for the camera — in his newsreel;
no one in the room including Frank, tells him to turn off the
projector, and all eagerly watch it.) When A.G. dies of a
heart attack 85 (Winter, 1953), Any is passed over by
management for a man lower in rank, without Arty's experience
and skill. Unlike Arty, he lacks A.G. ’s wisdom and judgment in
assembling an informative succinct newsreel. He makes
blunders, such as referring to Vice-President Nixon as
"Senator" Nixon, and does not bother to correct the error.
Exasperated, Any exclaims, "This is a bloody awful newsreel...I
should be head of this company." No one in the roam challenges
this remark. Her comment also alludes to her possible disdain
of Nixon, (another clue to her thinly veiled leftist views), as
if she is saying that Cinetone should not waste its time on
covering American politicians friendly with Menzies. (Nixon
and Menzies enjoy a special bond — their anti-communist fervor
— Nixon having served on McCarthy's HUAC Committee, which
uncovered hundreds of "red" supporters.)
A.G.'s death signals a shift in policy for Cinetone.
Whereas he perceived the role of Cinetone as a gatherer and
presenter of local news for Australian audiences, ranging from
337
the singing dog to stories from the outback "where the true
Australians live," even exclusive coverage of sister colony New
Zealand1 s Sir Edmund Hillary reaching the summit of Mt.
Everest, the board of directors soon assumes a revised policy
of news presentation with more emphasis on sensationalizing it,
(often inserting more exciting stock footage) compromising its
quality in order to compete with the more technologically
superior and sophisticated television. Hence, the crews of
former rivals, Cinetone and Newsco find themselves working side
by side (even helping one another out) in opposition to their
new adversary, television, which threatens to make weekly film
newsreels in theatres obsolete (as they book more commercial
fare, such as God Created Woman, featuring the sex kitten,
Bridgette Bardot). Compared to the six days it takes for film
to be processed and assembled into a newsreel, the new
electronic medium takes only a few hours. Television also
expedites the American "invasion." A curious crowd gathers
before a store front window, watching the new American series,
Disney's "The Mickey Mouse Club." A teenager slicks back his
hair in the popular "D.A." style, as we hear Elvis Presley sing
"Young at Heart."
The "friendly" liaisons between Cinetone and Newsco
operate within the greater political context of forging
Australian and American links. The first newsreel after A.G. 's
death is the aforementioned visit of Nixon to Australia, a
precedent for Australia, as he is the highest ranking official
338
to ever represent America. (One year later a comprehensive
United States initiated defense pact SEATO would be signed by
Australia, New Zealand and other countries, pledging their
combined military support of the Pacific.)
Because of Cinetone's new policy, Geoff leaves for
England, disillusioned with what he perceives will be an
increasingly restrictive and conservative atmosphere, in which
the company will avoid challenging the practices of the pro-
American government. For Geoff, England is the "best place for
an aging radical," as he feels he will be more comfortable and
productive in a country ruled by a Labor government.
Len and Chris, however, have perhaps one final opportunity
to cover an authentic Australian event, the Redex Car Rally
(1954), a celebration of the power and speed of the automobile
to conquer huge expanses of the Australian bush and outback to
the delight of thousands of onlookers everywhere along the way,
many who have hitch-hiked from great distances, like the girl
that Chris meets on the road. They spend the night together,
and several weeks later she shows up pregnant. Though Chris
and Ellie see abortion (and not necessarily marriage) as
options — foreshadowing the more enlightened attitudes about
sex and marriage in the 60's — Len sees marriage (to which
Chris defers) the only option, a sign of his more traditional
(and Catholic) attitudes. Their final assignment together
signals the dixninishment of Austral ian-British bonds in the
50's and strengthening of United States-Australian links.
339
Floods have wiped out the town of Maitland, creating a national
disaster and emergency. Both Cinetone and Newsco cover the
event, spending the night on the second floor of the
pharmacist's shop (as the waters have flooded the first floor).
Chris has gone out alone to carry penicillin to city hall, but
on the way back, he boat capsizes and he drowns. len and
Charlie find his body several hours later, and len is deeply
saddened by the loss of his good friend as well as a competent
assistant. But Chris's death ends the special relationship
between len/Australia and Chris/Britain, which is now replaced
by the American Australian bond, for len and Charlie cover
together a raging forest fire for their next assignment, united
in the face of their new adversary, the channel 2 television
crew. len's new assistant even looks like the American rock
star Elvis Presley, greasing his hair back, turning Len's car
radio to find the right Presley tune. Their altercation
foreshadows the generation/culture gap in the 60's as the more
traditional (Australian) parents regarded with horror their
(Americanized) children. "Why don't you cut your hair?" Len
asks, to which his assistant defiantly retorts, "Why don't you
cut yours?"
Within the greater context of Austral ian-American
liaisons, Frank's return to Australia with United States
capital to make an American-derived Australian television
series demonstrates the encroachment on the Australian film and
television industries by Hollywood interests in the 50's and
340
60's. Though he ostensibly offers len the position of co
producer (with him), Frank's ulterior motive is to be the sole
producer with Len as his assistant (playing out his American
superiority). The series will be spin-off of an American
television Western with an American star, and the only
Australian element will be the setting (the actual situation at
the time when many American features were off-shore
productions, using the Australia landscape as a back-drop.)
Frank has became the epitome of the machismo American big shot
producer, his Australian dialect replaced by "Americanese." On
his arm is his "assistant", a naive young starlet who loves
koalas and kangaroos, a rather nasty parody of the wide-eyed
innocent abroad, who looks and acts like a country bumpkin, in
comparison to the more sophisticated Amy, who had been holding
a torch for Frank since he left (even living with Len, to keep
alive the memory of Frank). Arty eagerly accepts a position as
Frank's assistant, demonstrating her selling out to the
American product/industry, compromising her Australian values
and ethics, (foreshadowed by her/Cinetone' s assumption of
Newsco's more commercial format since A.G.'s death.)
As if to lament Frank's (and now Amy's) lost ties with
Australia, the night Frank returns, Len has the club
entertainer play "The Road to Gundaguy," an Australian folk
song celebrating the road from Melbourne to Sydney. This tune
is contrasted to the popular American song, "Smoke Gets in your
Eyes," suggesting Len's sadness at losing his girl, as well as
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his identity, as Australia becomes increasingly Americanized.
He has became alienated from his children ('whom he rarely sees
as he and Fay are officially divorced) — they are the new
generation of Australians coming under the influence of
American culture, just as his cameraman has. len still feels a
sense of loss over Chris (suggesting that the British-
Austral ian links worked for the integrity of Australia, whereas
the new Australian-American links threaten Australia's
identity.) This is demonstrated by Cinetone's official merger
with Newsco into Cinenews86 a move the Cinetone Board reasons
is necessary to combine the resources, facilities and manpower
of both studios against the local television networks. The
merge operates in the greater context of Australian-United
States defense ties, as the SEATO Pact is only a few years old,
and it also signals Australia's greater role in international
events (Cinenews' first assignment is the Olympics in Melbourne
— a first for Australia.)
Len is about to resign, but the board offers him the job
as Olympic events Cameraman. Asserting his Australian
identity, he asks that he also be director. The first game he
will cover, a water polo match between Russia and Hungary will
give him a chance to demonstrate his uncarnpramised newsman's
ethics — he will not follow the example of his company (and
Frank and Amy) by selling out to the Americans.
As he films the increasingly tense game, a fist-fight
breaks out in the pool between the Russians and Hungarians,
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these hostilities reflecting the larger political issue of
Russia having recently invaded Hungary. A player is pulled out
of the water, bloodied and almost unconscious. In the stands
are Frank and Amy who watch the fight in horror (By resuming
her relationship with Frank, Amy has probably compromised her
more liberal political viewpoint.) Suddenly, Frank jumps down
to follow Len as he carries his cans of footage away to be
developed at the lab. In the garish light of the tunnel
beneath the coliseum, Frank looks and acts like a sleazy
pomographer, stopping Len and offering him an enormous amount
of money, $50,000, for one can of his film of the "bloodbath"
that he intends to sell to a contact in the United States for
use in anti-Cammunist propaganda. Insulted by such an offer,
Len tells Frank to "Bite [his] bum", and strides off, hanging
tightly onto both cans of film. By refusing the sell the
footage, Len holds out against American control, demonstrating
his stubborn Australian individuality, "his moral dignity his
last cultural defense."87 Though Len, Cinenews and Australia
face an uncertain future (as Frank says, "galloping toward a
precipice with eyes wide open)," in light of American
orchestrated cold war and the threat of American domination of
Australian culture and politics, Len has his dignity and (as
Amy comments) his "old-fashioned" values.
The film concludes with several actual newsreel scenes
(with Len and his camera superinposed at the beginning)
suggesting Australia's continuing participation in
343
international events — a Beatles concert, visiting ballet
companies, diplomatic calls by Chinese dignitaries, the Pope,
President John, and Queen Elizabeth of England. Hie British
links are a formality, as the Queen is merely a figurehead of
the Commonwealth. The more crucial bonds are with the United
States military; LBJ's visit is a sign of Australian entry into
Vietnam, and its complicity in an American Imperial war.
Yet the somber tone suggested by Johnson's presence is
lightened somewhat by the final shot, that of a koala
scampering up a tree, which Noyce has stated is emblematic of
Len himself;
He's meant to represent Australia in its naivete and
purity, its unprostituted values, striving toward the sky.
When people say to me that Len is too good, too uncorrupt-
able, I reply that he's the Australian superman...I think
we're entitled to one.88
Newsfront had an elaborate aid sophisticated publicity
campaign, designed by distributors Roadshow, which marketed the
film very carefully. Even before the shooting, "stars" Wendy
Hughes (Any), Gerard Kennedy (Frank), Bill Hunter (Len) and
Chris Haywood (Chris) were involved in a special press
conference where they signed their contracts while dressed in
period costume. Though shooting was completed in November,
1977, it was not until five months later that an answer print
was ready (given the intricacies of cutting together and
matching the news and staged footage). Though Graham Burke and
Robyn Campbell-Jones were enthusiastic about the film after the
screening, they had reservations about the documentary
sequences, perceiving them as a negative component. They were
not certain how to present the film — an adventure? personal
drama? documentary? So they planned to arrange several preview
screenings and devise a strategy based on audience reactions.
In the meantime, New South Wales representative David Roe
decided to take the film to Cannes in a non-competing capacity.
He commented, "A bad review at Cannes could always be
attributed to the festival's high standards.1,89 He declined
the offer to open the Sydney Film Festival — "if the film was
successful, it might be regarded as an art film; a failure (on
the other hand) could initiate a disastrous panning and harm
commercial prospects."90 (This decision however, was regretted
by David Elfick who disagreed with this strategy.)91 However,
when Newsfront was screened at Cannes (amidst very little
publicity, beginning as a dark horse), it generated much
interest and excellent reviews, over shadowing The Chant of
Jimmie Blacksmith. On the basis of the Cannes reception,
Newsfront was chosen to open the London Film Festival later in
the year.
Though the distributors were encouraged by the Cannes
success, they still needed a strategy to sell Newsfront
locally. The film was double-featured with a proven hit, the
American film, The Goodbye Girl, so Roadshow already had a
captive audience. According to the audience comment sheets,
spectators liked the "newsreel footage, the atmosphere of
authenticity, the actors/actresses performances, humor and
345
personal drama." (Only the story line was regarded as weak.)
Based upon these responses, Campbell-Jones developed their
target audiences: 1) the "art" audience that would be attracted
to the film's unique format; 2) adults aged 35 and over, who
were able to remember the events alluded in the film; 3) 18-30
year olds, who could be attracted to the 50's nostalgia,
currently in vogue.92 The "image" designated for the film
would be a "big picture, with an emphasis on a personal
drama."93
Subsequent newspaper ads put the four main stars, Len,
Frank, Amy and Chris against a backdrop of stills from the
film, with the tagline, "When the news ran out, they made their
own."94 Two television ads were prepared, one presenting a
montage of excerpts from the narrative accompanied by the song,
"You Belong to Ms" in voice over, the other a minute of
excerpts from the documentary clips shown to the tune of a drum
beat.
The film premiered in Sydney, with live coverage by
channel 10, and in the state capital, Gosford, with appearances
by Bill Hunter and Gerard Kennedy. Both openings, were buoyed
by favorable reviews, ranging from an appreciation of Ellis's
"irreverence,"95 to an admiration for a "fresh and different
approach to Australian history and technical expertise in
mingling staged and newsreel footage."96 By the fourth week,
Newsfront was still going strong, aided considerably by its
winning of 8 AFI awards, including best film and actor (Bill
346
Hunter), screenplay,97 direction, and editing. Within 48 hours
of the announcement of the awards, the box office increased 80
percent.
Newsfront opened in Melbourne August 24, doing even better
business (grossing $31,000 during weeks one and two, versus
$21,000 in Sydney during a top week). In December, the film
opened in Brisbane, Adelaide and Perth (stars and principles
assisted considerably in its promotion) and it played steadily
through the holiday period (a crucial time for theatres, as
students are on vacation and frequent theatres) . David Roe,
acting on behalf of the NSW Film Corporation, represented the
film overseas, and played up the AFI awards its good track
record in theatres, selling the film to Germany, Norway,
Denmark, Sweden, France and Canada. NSW directly distributed
the film itself in England after the avid reception during the
London festival. Handled by New Yorker Films Newsfront did not
do well in the United States (though the Los Angeles reception
was better than that in New York, where, as Stratton points
out, the film may have been ruined by a bad review in the New
Yorker by Brendon Gill who thought the film "silly"). Newsfront
was later in a line-up of Australian films in the first
festival put on to honor the industry, held in New York.
Ultimately, the film was a commercial success. By May 1, 1979,
it had grossed $1,794,979 from Australian sales alone. Clearly
Noyce’s film struck a chord with at least two generations of
347
Australian audiences, giving them likable, sympathetic
characters, particulary the idealistic courageous Len.
Newsfront is an intelligent, well-crafted film that
'dares' to present many of the political events — national and
international — that shaped post-war Australian society and
culture. The film, however, is not as rigorous an examination
as Between Wars (Newsfront1 s chronological predecessor), which
boldly demonstrates that Australia functioned in the shadow of
Imperial (even Fascist) Britain, which caused a man to sink
into despair and withdraw from active participation in public
and private life. Len is far more resilient, and at least on
one occasion resists the American Imperialist influence (though
he continues to cover American activities in Australia in his
films, which may be interpreted as an endorsement of the United
States). Hence, in Newsfront. Noyce chooses a soft, amiable
approach in examining an Imperial influence, the nostalgic tone
diffused even more by the film's setting in the past, as if he
were reluctant to offend America. Noyce has stated in inter
views that he would have liked the film to be more politically
explicit in its examination of a colonial culture "under
assault" from an Imperial power, though he has not elaborated
whether his ideas were too left for producers, who may have
wanted a more moderate approach. Perhaps he decided to play it
safe with a non-confrontational film. Newsfront does not
indict white Australian patriarchal society as Chant of Jimmie
Blacksmith does, nor does it condemn the British and Australian
348
governments as do Between Wars and Breaker Migrant. Neither
does Noyce question or challenge the enormous influence of the
United States (except in an off-handed way through Airy);
certainly Newsfront is not the film that the radical editor
Geoff would have made, given the chance, but is more compatible
with Ien*s tastes and sensibilities. And local audiences
demonstrated that they readily accepted a veil of nostalgia and
a safe distance of two decades to address the influence of the
Power across the sea.
Since Newsfront. Noyce has made one other feature,
Heatwave. (1982), based on an actual incident — the murder of
housing activist Jenny Langby. He uses the vehicle of suspense
thriller, which softens the politics of the killing, ostensibly
trying to give the film a more universal appeal. Heatwave was
clearly intended for international markets; it screened in the
United States, drawing modest profits. Noyce continues to work
in Australia, his latest project directing a segment of a
George Miller produced mini-series, entitled Vietnam, focusing
on the experiences of Australian soldiers in that war.
Based upon the local reception for the six films examined
in this chapter, audiences demonstrated that they admired the
Australian colonial underdog (Caddie, Sybylla, len McGuire) who
boldly resists an oppressive power, or (in the case of Breaker
Morant and Peter Handcock) is tragically sacrificed by one.
But the adulation for the "colonials" fell along racial lines,
for local spectators essentially rejected Aborigines Chris,
349
Charlie and Jimmie Blacksmith (who are victims of white
oppressors as well as perpetrators of vengeful acts against
white society) showing that white-Aborigine conflicts
(regardless of the results or the time of the conflict) are
uncomfortable subjects for predominantly white Australian
audiences. Safe targets are white patriarchal society (when
opposed by females), and the British.
As Newsfront demonstrated, the current Imperial power, the
United States, was not to be heavily criticized, even accommo
dated. The film appropriately served as a prophecy for the
enormous influence that the American cinema would have in the
1980's not only on the financing of the local product, its
style and ideology, but also its creative talent, these bonds
functioning in the greater context of the Fraser Ministry
(1975-1983) which endorsed American - Australian liaisons
through political diplomacy and the reinforcement of defense
networks and trade agreements.
As early as 1980, Hollywood was wooing away those
filmmakers so instrumental in shaping the local industry during
its early years and developing its international reputation, —
including Gillian Armstrong, Bruce Beresford, Fred Schepisi and
Peter Weir. (Actors Bryan Brown, Mel Gibson [see chapter 5]
and actresses Helen Morse and Judy Davis were also invited to
work in American films and television programs).
In June, 1981, because of financial problems encountered
by the AFC during the five year period, the government decided
go shift the financial base to the private sector. From 1975-
81, the AFC had received a return from only 38 percent of its
investment. Of the fifty films funded, 49 percent were total
losses, 16 percent showed a profit and seven percent made
partial returns. Further, because of inflation, the cost of
making a film almost doubled in the five year period, and it
was clear by the end of the decade that Australia's compara
tively small population (14 million) was not sufficient to show
a return on most films, hence the need for overseas markets
(namely American).
With the new tax laws, the role of the AFC would diminish
to script development monies, and the state corporations would
cut back on the number of projects funded. Profit would
supercede cultural goals, and financiers would invest in pro
jects modeled on Hollywood generic conventions and commercial
formula filmmaking. To demonstrate this shift from an emphasis
on local themes to Hollywood box office ingredients, the works
of Peter Weir and of another Renaissance figure, George Miller
will be examined in the next chapter as both show the influence
of Hollywood cinema but in very different ways.
351
Notes
-1-Long had also written the script (and done the research)
for the 1968 film The Pictures That Moved, (which Buckley
produced) a compilation film of Australian silent films. When
Long told Buckley that she had never written a script for a
feature film before, Buckley replied, "That's all right, I've
never produced one."
2David Stratton, The Last New Wave (Sydney: Argus and
Robertson, 1980), 144.
3Scott Murray and Gordon Glenn, "Production Report,
Caddie." Cinema Papers. November/December, 1975, 243.
4International Women's Year was organized to commemorate
women's achievements past and present through media events,
conventions, and other activities.
^Murray and Glenn, 247.
6Caddie is not, as Stratton suggests (142), intimidated by
Maudie; rather she does not want to be used by Ted, nor be
involved with a man who has another woman.
7The Greek population in Australia is the second largest
in the world.
8This scene was the last in the shooting schedule, and was
improvised on the spot by Crombie, Long, Buckley, Morse and
cameraman Peter James. Originally the film was to end with
Caddie lying on the bed while her daughter called out from
another room, but the child had trouble doing the scene as
scripted. The scene that appears is more in the spirit of
Caddie's love and commitment to her children which she
demonstrates by not going to Greece. (Stratton, 145)
9Ihe epilogue was deleted from overseas versions,
distributors reasoning that it detracted from the otherwise
cheerful ending.
10Stratton, 146.
11Stratton, 145.
12Jack Clancy, Cinema Papers. July, August, 1976, 71.
13Stratton, 145.
352
14Tim Pulleine, Monthly Film Bulletin, 1976, 189.
15Sheila Benson, “Caddie.” Calendar Section, Los Angeles
Times, April 23, 1981, 20.
16Pauline Kael, The New Yorker. March 9, 1981, 54.
17In approximately 1800, a band of women prisoners escape
from their male captors and live in the bush, later
successfully fighting off a posse of men that comes to retrieve
them.
18In the history of Australian cinema, up to the 70's, only
the McDonough sisters were able to make films in the male-
dominated industry. From 1926-1933, they made four features
(as well as several documentaries). Paulette directed, wrote
and produced, Phyllis was business manager, publicist, art
director; Isabel (stage name, Marie Lorraine) was the lead
actress. The films were sophisticated, intelligent, well-
crafted, focusing on the problems and inherent prejudices of
the class system. In the 1970's, the only woman to direct was
a Turkish immigrant, Ayten Kuyululu, an actress and screenplay
writer who made a 16 mm feature in 1975, entitled The Golden
Cage, focusing on the Turkish immigrant community in Australia.
19The publication of My Brilliant Career created quite a
sensation. Readers saw many similarities between Sybylla's and
Miles' lives, and her family was "scandalized” because everyone
assumed the account was true. According to Armstrong, people
were shocked because it wasn't considered very nice for a girl
to write a fiction book. The book was a great success in
intellectual circles. In a few years, Franklin went overseas
to pursue her interests in social reforms and women's rights.
First she visited the United States from 1905-1915, working for
the National Women's Trade Union league. Later she went to
London and worked in housing reform. She returned to Sydney
(in 1933) and wrote several more navels until her death in
1955.
20At the time, Fink was one of a few women producers in
Australia, including Patricia Lovell (co-producer of Picnic at
Hanging Rock) and Joan Long (producer of The Picture Show Man.
1974, as well as the writer). Fink experienced much resistance
to period films until the success of Picnic and Caddie, which
made it easier for her to finance Career.
21Armstrong's other film school projects were Sat Dee
Night, a documentary about several young people who plan and
hold a part, and Gretel. a color fiction film. In 1975,
Armstrong made the film Smokes and Lollies, a documentary about
353
teen-age girls (funded by the SAFC). Also in the same year she
made The Singer and the Dancer, an intriguing examination of
the lives of two women in the bush, one living with her boy
friend who is two-timing her, the other (in her 50's) who is
almost held prisoner by her stepdaughter. The two became
friends, but neither can leave her situation. All of
Armstrong's films (except Sat Dee Night) focus on women who are
trapped by an oppressive patriarchal society, a theme that
would recur in her next two features after Career — Starstruck
and Mrs. Soffel.
22Peter Beilby and Scott Murray, "Gillian Armstrong,
Director," Cinema Papers, March-April, 1979, 291.
23G. Roy Levin, "Gillian Armstrong: Bringing My Brilliant
Career to the Screen," Millimeter. May, 1980, 128.
24A quality weekly magazine similar to Ladies Home Journal,
or Good Housekeeping.
25T!his film was a formulaic road picture, produced by
Hexagon, in which Davis played a feisty "dropout."
26The New York Film Festival consciously avoids screening
commercially oriented films, and is not a buyer's market (as
Cannes is). The festival is essentially a forum for inter
national cinema, including European, Japanese, South American,
and even American independent films. Premier Wran of the New
South Wales regarded it a great honor that My Brilliant Career
was selected for the festival.
27Schepisi had begun making television commercials at the
age of 15 (1954) at the Carlton Advertising Agency. Several
years later he became manager of the Victorian Branch of
Cinesound studios, and was involved in the making of weekly
newsreels as well as television commercials. In 1966 he bought
the facilities and renamed them "The Film House." During these
years, Schepisi saw his experience preparing him for feature
films.
28The Victorian Film Corporation was set up in June, 1976
to "encourage and promote the production, exhibition and
distribution of films, television programs and other enter
tainments and works." Like the AFC, the objectives of the
corporation focused on quality, with an emphasis on "economic
viability and aesthetic significance." All of the board
members were working industry representatives, including Graham
Burke, managing director of Roadshow Distributors and Village
Theatres, Clifford Green, who wrote the screenplay for Picnic
at Hanging Rock, Natalie Miller, independent film distributor
354
and promoter of overseas and Australian films, and (ironically)
Fred Schepisi. The VFC also contributed to Beresford's The
Getting of Wisdom ($50,000). Jimmie Blacksmith was its fourth
(and largest) investment.
29David Roe and Scott Murray, "Fred Schepisi, Producer,
Director, Scriptwriter," Cinema Papers. January 1978, 244.
30Roe and Murray, 244.
31Schepisi has commented, "I put him through a very heavy
test. I stood him in the center of the studio and set up the
cameras and lights. Offices were everywhere, with phones
ringing; I told people to keep walking through the studio. I
made him do some things on video-tape, then I walked away,
telling him to go through them again 10 times with someone
else... .1 was trying to create as much confusion and pressure
as possible. We did this for four hours, he stood the lot and
was actually improving. We then knew he had to be good.
32These wars lasted from 1899-1902; Britain fought Dutch
settlers (Boer Dutch for farmer) over land rights. Australian
soldiers enlisted to fight on behalf of Britain, as bushveldt
carboniers, specially trained to fight the guerrilla warfare,
the consequences of which are examined in Bruce Beresford's
Breaker Morant (1980).
33David Wilson, Sight and Sound. Spring, 1979, 126.
3^In the book, Mrs. Healey was Jimmie's idol. Keneally
writes: ".. .it was not simply a matter of her being full and
ripe: he could not have been so potently stirred by aspects so
directly sexual. But combine these with her impassive air, her
peculiar way of sitting still in the day and breathing out into
the morning vapor or worship and submission for her husband—
and you had something that appealed to all Jimmie's lust. In a
second she had became a symbol, a state of blessedness, far
more than a woman." Schepisi has foregrounded Miss Graf as the
sexualized object of Jimmie's desire, for in the book, Miss
Graf is a big country girl... [who] could eat a pound of steak
without feeling satiated." The actress Schepisi cast
(Elizabeth Alexander) is thin, very pretty, with delicate
features, still retaining this quality that Keneally ascribes
to her — [giving] "off a soft mush of delicacy and (knowing)
etiquette."
3 5Jimmie has heard this phrase from the shearers at
Healey's in the context of Britain's declaring war on the
Boers, yet his declaration clearly reverses the attack to a
colonial uprising.
355
36Pauline Kael, The Hew Yorker. September 15, 1980, 150.
37Stratton, 136.
38Wilson, 126.
39Stratton, 138.
40Stratton, 138.
41Stratton, 138.
42Stratton, 138.
43Stratton,
i n
r * *
44Stratton, 75.
45Gulpilil had also appeared in local features - Storm Bov.
(1976, befriending a young boy who lives along with his father)
Mad Dcxr Morgan (1977, comrade to an ex-con in the mid 1800's).
The last Wave has many similarities to Roeg's Don't hook Now
(1973). Like John Baxter, David is clairvoyant, but continually
dismisses his prophetic visions. Both men represent "logical"
professions. Baxter's depends upon precision of physics, and
David's on reason and logic.
46Pat McGilligan, "Under Weir.. .Theroux," Film Comment.
December 1986, 28. Weir has commented that only two to three
percent of what he learned from Gulpilil ended up on the screen
47Tom Buckley, New York Times. January 12, 1979, Section C,
6.
48Pamela Childs, "New Wave Director Peter Weir Rides the
hast Wave," Millimeter. March, 1979, 70.
49Stratton, 76.
50Cinema Papers. July 1977, 29.
51Childs, 74.
52In Aborigine mythology, pointing a magic bone at someone
is a death sentence, as the victim has wronged the tribe in
some way. His heart just stops beating.
53The term "Mulcural" has been fabricated by the film
makers; because it is linked to Aborigines and the Dreamtime,
one might be led to believe that it is part of Aborigine (or
South American) tribal history and mythology. It is not.
356
54Stratton, 78.
55Kevin Thomas, Los Angeles Times Calendar Section, April
24, 1978, 12.
56Because the Aborigines are portrayed this way, Vincent
Canby must have been moved to make this comment about Gulpilil:
"A self contained character who has been shown all the
mysteries... .He is no longer surprised or hurt by anything,
only mildly amused or disappointed. ( New York Times. December
19, 1978, Section C, 7.)
57Pauline Kael, The New Yorker. February 22, 1979, 102.
58Kael, 102.
59Kael, 102.
60These films were Don's Party (1976) which examined the
sexual dynamics of an election eve party in contemporary
Sydney; The Getting of Wisdom (1977) about a rural girl living
in a turn-of-the-century snobbish boarding school; The Money
Movers (1978) focusing on a bank heist by a security company.
61Beresford doubts that there was a cover-up or a destroy
ing of the procedings, although he has commented in interviews
that the Australian government tried for a long time to get
records of the trial, but the English Ministry of War pretended
that they didn't exist. Colonel Hamilton, lord Kitchener's
assistant could have destroyed the trial records, as he was
ccarplicit in sending witnesses sympathetic to Morant and
Handcock to India; he also lied under oath that there were
written orders to shoot Boer prisoners.
62Jim Robbins, "Bringing a Political Film to the Screen:
Bruce Beresford's Breaker Morant." Millimeter. April, 1981,
185.
6Australian troops served in Vietnam on behalf of America,
though there were no (reported) "Calley incidents." Australian
feature filmmakers have avoided this subject and only one major
film was made in the 1970's about Vietnam, entitled The Odd
Angry Shot (1979). Essentially a war comedy, it presents (in a
light tone) Australian/American tensions without really
analyzing the American Imperialism and Australian involvement
in a war that most of the country did not want, though there
are moments where some of the soldiers express ambivalence
about their presence in Vietnam.
64Robbins, 191.
357
65Stephen Crofts, "Breaker Morant: Quibbling over
Imperialism," Jump Cut, no.27, 13.
66Robbins, 191.
67Annette Insdorf, "Breaker Morant." New York Times.
December 21, 1980, 8.
68Publicity Notes, prepared by the South Australian Film
Corporation, 9.
89Robbins, 190.
70Robbins, 190.
71Robbins, 190.
72As Stratton points out, the film compares favorably with
Stanley Kubrick's Paths of Glory. 1957, set in a French army
unit during World War I. Three soldiers are arbitrarily chosen
by higher command to be court martialed and executed for
cowardice. Jury President, Kirk Douglas, openly praised Morant.
perhaps feeling a special bond, as he was featured in a similar
role in Paths, speaking on behalf of and defending the accused.
73Jack Clancy, "Breaker Morant." Cinema Papers. August-
September, 1980, 283.
74Crofts, 13.
75Crofts, 13.
76Stratton, 207.
77Stratton, 209.
78Noyce and his crew actually re-created parts of the town
of Maitland (after looking at archival footage) in the
Narrabeen lakes north of Sydney, building the set in three feet
of water, yet only building the top parts of the building to
create the illusion of a flood. To generate water currents,
they used jet boats and pumps.
79Stratton, 209.
80Stratton, 209.
81Diane Jacobs, "Big Noyce at the Aussie Fete," Village
Voice. November 27, 1978, 2.
358
82Judith M Kass, "Rejoicing about things Australian:
Phillip Noyce Interviewed," Movietone News. December, 1979, 14.
83 According to Noyce, newsreel footage (in Australia) was
not shot in color until the late 1960's. (Kass, 14.)
84A holiday honored in Australia since 1920 (Anzac an
acronym for Australian and New Zealand Army Corps) which falls
on the anniversary of the first landing at Gallipoli in 1915
(April 24). Until World War II, the focus of Anzac day was
Gallipoli itself and World War I. Since the second world war,
Anzac Day has become the annual day of remembrance for those
who participated in all the conflicts in which Australia has
been involved (William H. Wilde, Joy Hooton and Barry Andrews,
eds.) Oxford Companion to Australian Literature. (Melbourne:
Oxford University Press, 1985, 34).
85Ken G. Hall, upon which Marwood's character is based, did
not die until 1979, the filmmakers use A.G. 's death to mark the
diminishment of the all Australian newsreels in light of the
American influence over the media.
86Historically, this did not really happen until 1970, when
Cinesound and Movietone News merged into Australian Movie
Magazine, which aired on television. The magazine existed for
five years, and closed in 1975. The year of this mythical
merge, 1956, does represent the actual year that Ken G. Hall
left Cinesound.
87Rod Bishop and Fiona Macie, "loneliness and Alienation"
The New Australian Cinema. Ed. Scott Murray (Sydney: Currency
Press, 1980), 156.
88Diane Jacobs, 2.
89Michael Harvey, "Selling Newsfront." Cinema Papers. July,
August, 1979, 437.
90Harvey, 437.
91Stratton, 210.
92Harvey, 438.
93Harvey, 438.
941his tagline actually distorts the picture. The
characters do not self-consciously make their own news, they
live their lives, functioning in the context of the greater
political, economic and social events around them.
95The credits read, "Screenplay by Phillip Noyce, from an
original screenplay by Bob Ellis, from a concept by Phillip
Mora and David Elfick."
96Stratton, 211.
97Stephen Schaefer, "Phillip Noyce — More Fire from Down
Under1 ! Soho Weekly News. May 31, 1979. (Press Kit, New Yorker
Films)
360
Chapter 5
The Fraser and Hawke administrations reinforced
Australia's ties with its superpower, the United States;
Canberra continued to acquiesce to Washington-dictated foreign
policy, just as it had for the last thirty years since World
War IX. This Colonial - Imperial relationship provides a
context for reading the ideologies inscribed in the films of
George Miller and Peter Weir and understanding the direction of
their careers. Just as Australia continued to compromise its
unique identity in world politics, essentially acting as an
off-shore colony to the United States, both filmmakers divested
their films of their Austral ian-ness and adopted commercial
Hollywood models and formula filmmaking in their pursuit of
international fame and recognition. Though each filmmaker
sought similar goals, their films proved to be quite different.
From the very beginning of his feature film career, with
Mad Max. Miller consciously avoided exploring Australian
themes, working outside the government financing system. With
private financing, he used classical and contemporary Hollywood
361
genres, producing hero mythologies for the commercial world
market. Mad Max incorporates the themes of the classical
American Western and the style of Roger Corman's films; Mad Max
II the Shane myth and the George Lucas inspired monomyth; Mad
Max Beyond Ihunderdome the action adventure films of George
Lucas and Steven Speilberg.
Peter Weir, who emerged as a major figure in the
Renaissance of the Australian cinemas in the mid-1970's and
captured world attention with his explorations of uniquely
Australian themes— breaking away from British rule at the tum-
of-the-century in Picnic at Hanging Rock, or contemporary
Aborigines avenging white society for years of suppression in
The Last Wave— ostensibly continued to examine uniquely
Australian themes in his next three films. He consciously
avoided commercial Hollywood craft in The Plumber (having
admittedly relied on audience pleasing eroticism and mysticism
in Picnic and Wave to balance the political dynamic). However,
he soon returned to Hollywood models, gearing his films for
broad commercial audiences with Gallipoli and The Year of
Living Dangerously, both of which are modeled on Hollywood
genres, the war film and the political thriller (respectively).
Further, as if to demonstrate the enormous power of the United
States over Australia not only on the level of the film
industry but on Australian history and culture, all three films
play out Australian deference to the United States.
362
The middle and working class tensions in The Plumber are
analogous to Australia's Imperial relationship with neighboring
third world countries, but both operate in the greater context
of Imperial America - Colonial Australian dynamic. Gallipoli
focuses on Australian soldiers used as scapegoats for the
British during the Turkish campaign during World War I, but
operates as a metaphor for Australian troops fighting in
Vietnam in the 60's on behalf of the United States. In The
Year of T.-ivincr Dangerously. Weir directly examines Australian
complicity in the American overthrow of the Indonesian
|
government in 1965. As if apprenticing themselves for j
i
Hollywood, both Miller and Weir eventually left Australia to j
i
direct Hollywood films: Miller for Witches of Eastwick and '
Weir for Witness and Mosquito Coast. I
i
This chapter will demonstrate that Australia's two "native |
sons," whose films brought acclaim to their country, repressed
their Australian-ness as they complied with the demands of the
international marketplace, strongly influencing the subsequent
transformation of a national film renaissance into a Hollywood
modeled industry during the tax break period. Through their j
films Miller and Weir played out Australian cultural and J
political cringe to the United States, a reflection of the
greater context of Australia's subservient positioning to its :
mentor, America, in the post-war period. Before the works of
Miller and Weir are examined, it is necessary to discuss the
United States-Australian dynamic, particularly the foreign
363
policies of the Fraser and Hawke administrations — both prime
ministers perceived the American alliance as the fundamental
basis of Australian security.
Throughout their ministries, Prime Ministers John Fraser
(1975-83) and Bob Hawke (1983-present), maintained close ties
with the United States, liaisons fostered by Prime Minister
Gough Whitlam (1972-75) ' both Fraser and Hawke perceived the
American alliance as the fundamental basis of Australian
foreign policy. Once in office, Fraser took a strong anti
communist stance, perceiving Australia's greatest threat from
Russia, arguing that its naval build-up in the Pacific was
sinister in intent, and detrimental to Australian security.
Accordingly, one of the first visits he made after his election
in 1975 was to Peking, not only to re-affirm economic trade
agreements, but to reinforce diplomaticties with China, a
"tactical” ally against the menace of Russia.
Fraser's paranoia was at first inconsistent with the
Carter administration's policy of detente and Washington's
plans to co-ordinate de-militarization with Russia in the
Pacific. At the Anzus Council meeting in 1977, Fraser urged
Carter to take into consideration the security interest of all
Anzus parties before any arms limitation agreements were
signed. He was successful in achieving an "understanding" with
Washington that the Anzus geographic scope included the Indian
Ocean (West of Australia) and even the Arabian Sea (East of
364
Saudi Arabia), though the official text spoke only of the
Pacific.
However, Carter's atmosphere of peaceful co-existence with
the Soviet Union cooled in 1979 not only with the Soviet-
Vietnamese alliance (after the Vietnamese invasion of Cambodia,
and the establishment of a communist government), but Russia' s
invasion of Afghanistan at the end of the year. Fraser's worst
fears had come true, and he urged Parliament to quickly pass
legislation to establish new American security. Subsequently,
Australian air bases in Darwin (the northern most point in
Australia, and a key defense site) were opened up as deployment
for United States B-52 bomber surveillance flights. Further,
after Russian "acts of aggression" in Afghanistan, Washington
began to convey a tough stance against Russian naval build-ups
in the Pacific, that led to a full-fledged resumption of cold
war when Reagan was elected in 1982. Speaking of the threat of
a world wide red-menace, the Reagan administration sent strong
signals to Moscow, not only in reference to the Pacific, but in
the Persian Gulf (there the United States and Russia both had
links with Iraq and Iran respectively and vested oil
interests), warning that any forward movement in the Gulf
whether through Iran or Saudi Arabia would evoke unacceptable
large risks to Soviet interests."1 Australia had vested
interests, too, in the Persian Gulf, Fraser having personally
established trade agreements with Saudi Arabia and Israel for
Australian grain and meat.
365
By 1981, in spite of Fraser's attempts to responsibly
manage the country's economy, Australia was crippled by an
international recession, which caused 10 percent unemployment
(the highest since 1930), and an inflation rate of 11 percent.
These problems were exacerbated by nationwide droughts, which
brought about below-level crop and livestock production.
Further, the once unified Liberal coalition was new polarized
into two bickering factions — one side arguing for non
interference in private industry and a stepping up of the
nation's defense (traditional Liberal platforms), the other
merely seeking to maintain office by courting sectional
interests to the exclusion of all other government business —
hardly a confident integrated front for the country.
However, in early February, 1983, when Fraser called his
third election for March 5, 1983, he deemed his timing perfect
for returning the Liberal party to power, even hoping to add
seats to the Liberal controlled Senate and the Labor controlled
House. The Labor party did not have a strong candidate in
Labor leader Bill Hayden, and Fraser reasoned that, even if he
(Hayden) were replaced, Labor could not possibly find a strong
new leader in four weeks to consolidate the party to challenge
the present government.
i
But what neither Fraser nor his constituents counted on
was the election of Bob Hawke, as Australian Labor leader and
party candidate for Prime Minister, just a few days after
Fraser's announcement of the election. Hawke had only been in
366
Parliament two years, but had proven to be an influential
leader as shadow minister for Employment and Industrial
Relations. As the former president of the Australian Council
of Trade Unions he had developed an excellent reputation for
settling union-management problems. With only four weeks to
campaign, Hawke not only brought strong leadership to the
party, but conveyed a dazzling public image. Charismatic,
witty and articulate in person and on television, he spoke in a
confident and intelligent manner on a wide variety of national
issues, promising to bring Australia together in a spirit of
national reconciliation. Candidly admitting that the country
had severe economic problems, and taking the public into his
confidence, he encouraged them to trust him to provide the
leadership so together they could solve Australia's problems.
This consensus approach was a new style of governing, and a
clever and effective tactic — direct honesty with the
electorate, instead of covering up the country's dilemmas —
something the Fraser administration had been accustomed to
doing. For example, Fraser had not publicly addressed the huge
deficit (three billion) that the country would face in 1983 but
information had leaked out anyway, eroding public confidence in
the government.
To Hawke's benefit, too, Labor had been courting a new
public image— a party of moderation and pragmatism, appealing
directly to middle income sectors, and middle of the road
political attitudes (formerly Liberal constituencies and
367
platforms), shaking off the ideological rigidities of the
1950's and 1960's which had made it an easy target for Liberal
coalition scare mongering,2 that is, linking labor to Socialist
and Communist groups. Within the last several months, Labor
had also garnered the support of young people (ages 18-25), as
well as women, and had benefitted from well-organized union
campaigns.3 On March 5, 1983, Hawke was elected Prime
Minister, on the strength of his and the Labor party's image,
and amidst an increasing wide-spread loss of public confidence
in the Fraser Administration. The country's swing to Labor
boosted the House majority to 25, three new Senate seats were
added (though not yet enough for a majority).
Hawke immediately formed close bonds with both President
Reagan and Secretary of State George Schultz. Like Hawke,
Reagan was also a union man (formerly president of the Screen
Actors Guild) and had also built his career on media appeal,
and persuasiveness in face-to-face encounters. Further Hawke
was already well-acquainted with Schultz, having worked with
him on International Labor Council Summit meetings. Reagan's
anti-Soviet stance was compatible with that of Hawke, who did
not question American foreign policy for examples, interference
in El Salvador and Nicaragua, Reagan's anti-Castro policy in
the Caribbean, or missile deployments in Europe.4 Hawke's
stance was amidst local grass roots resistance to "American
Imperialism" in Central America, or anti-nuclear groups
368
questioning weapons proliferation in Europe and US naval ships
docking in Australian ports.
During the 1984 American invasion of the Caribbean Island,
Grenada, (ostensibly) to capture Russian-backed Cuban infil
trators, Reagan asked for Hawke’s support. Hawke subsequently
did not speak out in public against the incident, and as one
historian argued, "By his silence endorsed the island
invasion."5 Later Canberra's official response to the incident
was that it was an "out-of-region crisis." In 1986, amidst the
New Zealand government's much publicized denial of nuclear-
powered American submarines into the country's ports, the Hawk
administration again deferred to the United States, continuing
its policy of providing ports for all United States naval
carriers.
During the Hawke administration, Australia's bonds to the
United States were compatible with its increasingly inter
national profile, for its economic agreements and diplomatic
liaisons were primarily with American allies. The Hawke regime
encouraged foreign investment from Japan as well as the United
States, the establishment of American, European and Asian
foreign banks, and floated the Australian dollar on
international markets. Australia also opened up new markets in
South Korea, Japan and China.
Clearly, Australia was intricately tied to the United
States defense networks, the cornerstone of Australia's
security. Historian Coral Browne comments:
Whichever party was in government, Australia appeared
likely to shape its policy on the basis of relatively
tough-minded assessment of national interest: an
assumption that the world was dangerous place for minor
powers though less so for Australians than for most; a
judgment that some extra security (but not total security)
was to be found in the American alliance; that isolation
ism, neutralism, non-alignment or 'togetherness' with
Asian neighbors was not likely to be of much prospective
help in maintaining security.®
Within this atmosphere of co-operation with, yet deference
to the United States, Miller and Weir played out Australian
political and cultural cringe to super power America.
Mad Max
George Miller's original profession was that of a doctor,
but he had been a Hollywood film buff since he was a child.
While doing his two year residency in Sydney (1970-72), he
worked on a number of films on the weekends, those funded by
the first batch of grants from the Australian Film Development
Corporation. Miller leaned the nuts and bolts of filmmaking by
working in a variety of capacities — editor, sound recordist,
and cameraman. In 1971, he met his future partner and
collaborator Byron Kennedy when they both attended a film
workshop in Melbourne. Their first film together, a low budget
short, staged at St. Vincent's Hospital where Miller was in
residency was entitled Violence in the Cinema (1972), was made
with their own money and private contributions. It was
"designed as a comic approach to the debate on cinema violence
then taking place with the arrival of the R certificate."7
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In the film, a man is giving a boring lecture on cinema
violence as he sits behind a desk. He is shot in the eye, and
the attacks on him continue, climaxing when he is run over by a
car — even while he continues to talk. Violence was shown to
enthusiastic audiences at the Sydney Film Festival in 1972, and
later won an AFI award for the best fictional short. Miller and
Kennedy even had a major distributor, Greater Union, which
handled the film locally and overseas. The film's popularity,
which surprised Miller and Kennedy, inspired them to seriously
consider making a film in the future for the mainstream
commercial market.
In 1975, Miller and Kennedy (with the help of journalist
James McClausand) began to work on Mad M ax. focusing on
tensions between an elite force of police and a gang of
murderous bikers. A major feud breaks out when a member of the
gang (Nightrider) kills a policeman and steals his car but is
killed in pursuit by the force's top interceptor man, M ax
Rockatansky. The bikers avenge their buddy's death by killing
Fax's friend and partner Goose, and later his wife and son, an
act which turns the mild-mannered M ax into a mad, cold-blooded
killer who singlehandedly destroys the gang.
Once they had a draft ready, Miller and Kennedy consulted
Graham Burke, managing director of Roadshow, who told them that
if they could convince others to invest, Burke would match
whatever they had. Miller and Kennedy subsequently secured
contributions, ranging from $2500 to $15,000, and Roadshow
ultimately put up half of the $350,000 budget, which gave them
distribution rights. Kennedy and Miller chose not to approach
any of the government bodies, reasoning that their blatantly
commercial project was not the usual "quality" project, a
serious examination of Australian history and society-for
which the corporations were looking.
For Max, Miller had two commercial models — the first was
the Roger Corman film, The Wild Angels. (1966) which focused on
a marginal Southern California gang who prey on helpless
people, but who are in turn victimized by the police. Corman
had been very successful in the 1960's and 1970's in making low
budget generic films including westerns, gangster films, horror
and science fiction, all characterized by bold action
incorporated into a tight, quick-moving linear narrative.
Corman had inspired another Australian filmmaker, Sandy
Harbutt, whose Stone (1974) also focused on a biker subculture
outside of Sydney (Miller subsequently cast many of the biker
gang from Stone in Max). Secondly, Miller incorporated a major
theme from his favorite genre, the American Western: a gang of
uncivilized outlaws prey on an innocent frontier cammunity,
rendering the law impotent. Miller however, updated the
narrative using cars and motorcycles as weapons and vehicles
instead of guns and horses.8 As in Angels and Stone, high
speed chases are the ritual of death rather than the
shootouts;9 the Australian outback turns into a frontier
battlefield. Miller sets his narrative in the post-Apocalyptic
372
future,10 where post-industrial civilization is in a state of
anarchy. The picturesque pastoral bush or handsome urban
skyline has deteriorated into a dangerous wasteland under
perpetually grey and cloudy skies of nuclear winter.
For the style of his film, Miller used the Corman formula
~ the spectacle of action and violence, incorporating high
speed car chases and collisions.
The opening scenes of the film set the breathless pace,
exploiting speed and violence which is enhanced by the montage
editing (Miller has commented that he wanted to give viewers
the impression of being in an automobile accident.) The
Nightrider careers down the road, chased by a motorcycle cop
(Goose) who loses control of his bike and spins into a car,
breaking his leg. Two other officers go after Nightrider, but
they smash into a van and a trailer, demolishing them; one of
the cops is impaled in the throat with a piece of metal. Max
pursues the Nightrider into a construction site where several
heavy duty trucks have formed a blockade in the road. The
Nightrider collides with them, his car exploding into huge
fireball. Throughout the film, the violence escalates, as if
each act makes the cops and bikers hungry for more.
The film, then, celebrates not only gang and police
brutality, but the speed and power of motorcycles and cars
which not only double as killing. machines but function as an
extension of male strength and potency, linking sex and
violence which, in the case of the bikers is often directed
373
against women. The gang preys on a young couple, beating them
up and raping them both; later, they kill Max's wife and young
son when she challenges their territoriality and sexual
dominance.
A new concept of heroism is presented during this reign
of terror — the traditional heroes, the cops, who attempt to
protect society by containing the biker/predators became more
destructive and violent than their adversaries. This is a
revision of the classic western hero whose mission was firmly
dictated by a strong moral sense; he killed only to protect
himself and the community. In Max. however, the cops enjoy
killing; in so doing, they assume the barbarous behavior of
the bikers. Just as gang's leader Toecutter kills Goose by
incinerating him in his car, so does Max handcuff one of the
gang members to an overturned car, lighting a fuse, then
blowing him up. Max also mows down several of the bikers with
his car, killing them, just as the gang killed his wife and
child. Instead of making the land safe for civilization,
turning the desert into the garden — the job of the western
hero — Max leaves a trail of carnage, initiating an era of
full-blown anarchy. Heroism then is linked to savage murder
and destruction.
Though Kennedy and Miller finished shooting Mad Max in
late December (1977), it was almost two years before the film
was ready to be released. They had run out of money, and
decided to edit the film when time permitted. Handled by
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Roadshow, Mad Max opened in April, 1979 in Sydney and Melbourne
and was a bit hit, eventually grossing $2 million, becoming the
most commercially successful film ever in Australia (a position
held until 1981, with the release of Gallipoli.) The AFT
lauded the technical achievements of Max. giving the film
awards for best music, editing, soundtrack, and a special jury
prize to Miller and Kennedy. A major American distributor,
Warners bought the overseas right to 41 countries (except North
America), opening the film in Japan, their rationale that Asian
audiences traditionally favored films heavy on action and
violence. John Friedkin, representing Warner, commented at the
time, "The Japan opening [$15 million in grosses] was good,
[and provided] the advertising money for Spain [where the
response] was tremendous; it was a domino wherever we went from
then on."11 Max was the most successful film ever in Europe,
ultimately grossing 100 million world-wide.
The United States release did not go as well. Sam Arkoff,
head of American International Pictures, liked the picture and
bought the United States rights. But before he could make
plans to release the film, another American production/
distribution company, Filmways, bought AIP and management did
not share Arkoff's enthusiasm, releasing the film without much
publicity in a few major cities; the film only showed mild
returns. Filmways also dubbed Max. in urban and country
Western American dialects, (thinking American audiences would
be unable to decipher Australian dialect.12
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Reviewers within Australia or overseas either hated or
loved Max. criticizing its bleak, violent vision, or praising
its slick technical achievements. Phillip Adams saw Max as
"the pornography of death, a favorite of rapists, sadists,
child-inurders,13 and the New York critic Tam Buckley thought
Max ugly, incoherent, "aimed at the most uncritical of movie
goers."14 Jack Kroll of Newsweek, however, lauded Max, his
language matching the sensational style of the film itself:
The filmmakers see something terrifying in Australia which
they extrapolate into a lethal super drag strip where
velocity has replaced values [The film has] a cold linear
hysteria that has a bleak beauty. Junky, freaky, sadistic
masochistic, Mad Max has a perverse intelligence revving
inside its pop exterior.. .a gear stripping vision of human
destiny careering toward a cosmic junkyard.15
One critic even gave Miller credit for creating a new "crash
and bum" genre.16
However, with an emphasis on an action and revenge plot,
Miller has sacrificed character consistence. It is difficult
to believe that Max, a shy, passive, man could turn into a
violent murderer; his torture/killing of Johnie is unchar
acteristically sadistic.
Mad Max II
No one was more surprised by the world wide success of Max
than Miller himself: "I finished Max thinking that it had
licked me [and that] I had no sense of control."17 Eager to
understand the nature of the response, he and Kennedy traveled
abroad to determine why the film had resonated in so many
376
cultures.18 Kennedy flew to Japan, France, England and
Scandinavia and stood in the back of theatres, while Miller
went to the United States. Miller commented, "At first we went
for the obvious — a violent, exciting film, but when you look
at those figures, those things couldn't be enough."19 (Though
Miller plays down the appeal of the film's style, it could be
argued that some of the audiences were attracted to the
spectacle of the high speed chases, the crashes and explosions
— aided considerably the montage style editing.) Miller
continues,
What emerged was that the film had some deeper elements;
we weren't just filmmakers, but 20th century storytellers
.. .Max had the makings of a real hero. We had stumbled
onto a universal hero almost by accident. We looked at
Samurai movies, like [Kurasawa's] Yoiimbo. I had never
seen any Kurasawa before. We suddenly realized that Max
had some of that feeling to it... .And we saw some of the
classic Westerns made by John Ford, and recognized
something there as well. In Japan, people would start
talking about Samurai's, in Italy Spaghetti Westerns, in
Scandinavia, Viking folklore... .Of course all these things
are really the same stories, and we realized that uncon
sciously we had struck a lot of mythological chords.20
As one critic commented, "Max was a cross-cultural hero (who)
could triumph over evil in all markets."21
Eager to pursue their newly found mythology, and
capitalize on the market they had tapped (and also under
pressure from distributors all over the world to resume Max's
adventures), Kennedy and Miller started planning a sequel.
Miller's idea was to focus on Max a number of years later.
"There would be no real hope for him, but because of a
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particular talent, like [his] skill on the highways, he [would
be] able to give the wasteland a new order."22 With the help
of writer Terry Hayes (who had novelized Mad Max), Miller re
situated the narrative several years later in a post-nuclear
area, when oil is a rare commodity; Max intervenes on behalf of
a group of nomads defending an oil refinery from a pack of
barbarous predators, helping them re-establish a new community.
In developing Max II. Miller was influenced by two sources,
Joseph Campbell1 s monomyth and again, his favorite genre, the
American Western, particularly Shane.
When he had been in the United States for the opening of
Max I, Miller had read Campbell's Hero of a Thousand Faces, a
multi-cultural anthology of hero mythologies, and was intrigued
in particular by Campbell's monomyth, a condensation of heroic
quests/adventures rooted in the history and literature, repre
senting a variety of cultures. Significantly American
filmmaker George Lucas, also interested in finding a broad
based audience for his science fiction Star Wars trilogy had
examined the Campbell monomyth in creating his heroes, Luke
Sykwalker and Han Solo. Miller was essentially following
Lucas's highly lucrative example. (Lucas made a fortune on
Star Wars and The Empire Strikes Back.) He used the monomyth
to design a hero with universal box-office appeal. The second
part of the monomyth provided Miller with models for his
characters:
378
Beyond the threshold, then, the hero (a personage of
exceptional gifts) journeys through a world of unfamiliar
yet strangely intimate forces, some of which severely
threaten him (tests) and some of which give magical aid
(helpers). When he arrives at the nadir of the mytho
logical round, he undergoes a supreme ordeal and gains his
reward.23
The strangely intimate forces, the nomads and the predators,
both have links with Max. Life the nomads, Max is a (former)
family man and member of a community, but also an ex-policeman,
similar to many of the predators. The magical aids became the
feral child — an expert scout with the ability to throw a
razor sharp boomerang with deadly accuracy-and the gyro man, an
air wizard who operates a primitive helicopter providing air
defense for Max.
Miller also incorporated the Shane myth into Max II.
Shane was a 1953 Western which focused on a wandering loner
1
i
(played by box office star Alan Ladd) who lends his special j
I
I
skills (A marksman, fighter and natural leader) to help a
community of farmers stand up to a cattle baron, (who is intent
on keeping the land wild for grazing. In a shoot-out, Shane
gets rid of the "villains" (including a hired gunslinger) so
the community can grow, thus he helps to bring civilization to :
the West, turning the frontier desert into a garden, a major I
i
i
theme of the classic American Western. Once Shane has served I
i
the greater good of the community, he leaves to wander alone
I
again. Though Miller did not specifically refer to Shane, he |
I
did see (as mentioned before), Yoiimbo (1960) which Kurasawa
based upon Shane24 which focuses on an out-of-work samurai
379
warrior in the mid-1800' s in Japan, after the end of the feudal
period, who intervenes in a feud between rice and Sake
merchants, working for each side as a mercenary. Max is closer
to Toshiro Mifune's cynical, ill-tempered anti-social ronin
that he is to the gregarious and noble Shane, who aligns
himself immediately with the Start family; like Shane however,
Max mobilizes the community against the enemy. Max has a
magical effect on the settlers, as Shane does the farmers.
Their bickering ceases, and they bond together in a new spirit
of co-operation. To them, Max is the fearless experienced
desert warrior with nerves of steel. The feral child
immediately aligns himself with Max, just as Start's son Joey
befriends and idolizes Shane.
Like Shane with his six-shooter, (and Yojimbo with his
sword), Max is adept with his sawed off shotgun as well as an
expert driver. The final chase/show-down incorporates the
ritual of Shane's gunfight or Yojimbo's sword fight on
Campbell's mythological round where forces of good and evil
battle. Driving the tanker, pursued by the predators is not
only the ultimate Indian-settler frontier chase — the spoils
gas, not land — boosted by an extra dimension of frenzy,
turbo-charged vehicles capable of high velocities, but also
represents Max's rites of passage into super-hero status. The
two-lane road on the wasteland is his proving ground against
the Titan-villains, where he destroys them, thus ensuring the
safety of the new civilization.
380
Unlike Shane, where the community has strong emotional
ties to the hero, Max becomes the unwitting pawn of the nomads
who use him as a decoy: red sand, not gas pours out of the
over-turned tanker (the gas safely deposited in other vehicles
which took a different route). This is a cynical twist in the
motives of the usual altruistic Western community. However, by
diverting the attackers and killing their leaders, Max has
passed his greatest test. Unlike the feral child and the gyro
man, he does not join the convoy, reverting to his loner status
continuing to wander (as do Shane and Yojimbo). Standing alone
on the road, Max lingers in the mind of the feral child, a
wondrous warrior who saved the community. Max's exceptional
acts of courage and sacrifice inspire the child to became the
leader of the Great Northern Tribe, of which Max serves as
patron saint.
Miller has conjured up the worst possible modem day
catastrophe that only a super hero like Max could solve. Max's
acts of heroism which test his mental and physical skills
against the equally powerful and tough barbarians are
ultimately for the greater good of the nomad community.
Heroism, then is linked to the re-establishment of a peaceful
co-operative civilization, a more optimistic vision for mankind
than the nihilistic conclusion of Max I.
Once they had their script completed, Miller, and Kennedy
once again cast Mel Gibson as Max, capitalizing on Gibson's
instant box-office popularity with Max I. Just as this
381
casting, and their choice of themes was geared for maximum
international appeal, the filmmakers further tailored the
visuals to represent many different cultures, particularly the
garb of the predators. They look like all-purpose global
Olympic athletes, sporting American Indian, Scandinavian
Viking, and contemporary British punk fatigues. The costume
designer, Norma Moriceau coined her style "male trouble,"
dressing, for example, the leader of the warriors, lord
Humongous in a pair of trunks, a leather cod piece, wrist
bands, body harness and collar, with a hockey mask covering his
face. Miller wanted Humongous to be reminiscent of a Viking
warrior. (He speaks in Swedish accented English.)
Humongous' first officer, Wez, looks like a punk Indian,
with war paint on his face, his hair in a red Mohawk, and
feathers circling his neck, wearing leather pants and a leather
vest. Miller describes the motivation behind his look,
[Wez] is a guy vho has decided he will survive in the
world as part of a warrior caste. He feels he will take,
he will consume. So he puts together a suit of armor for
himself.. .football pads and hocked shin guards, with a
metal crossbow on his arm. But he also wants to look
fierce and crazy, like a Viking warrior, so he goes for
the plumage, the dressing up.2^
Like Wez, the other members of the predominantly homo
sexual gang sport Mohawks, some silver, some red; all are
dressed in various combinations of leather, feathers and sports
equipment, including dark glasses and gas masks. Their appear
ance links them to Indians in classical Westerns (they circle
and fire at the fort like a tribe of Indians on wheels), but
382
whereas those Indians were the victims of encroaching white
civilization desperately defending their native land and
resources, these "Indians" are true savages, pillaging and
killing for gas and fun.26
Miller and Kennedy financed the $3.5 million film
themselves, using the profits from Max I, avoiding AFC funding,
reasoning that Max II was again inconsistent with the
"Australian themes only" policy of the Commission.
As in Max I, they wanted to glorify the power and speed of
machines, and were committed to enhancing the story with as
much action, and as many chase sequences as the original.
Kennedy in particular, was adamant that the action sequences
surpass the chases and crashes in the first film. Kennedy
included a greater variety of vehicles, ranging from a
gyroscope, to dune buggies, road rigs, military jeeps, tow
trucks and dirt bikes. Over 200 scenes were designed requiring
stunts and special effects, and two specialists were hired to
handled the co-ordination of 120 crew members, 40 actors, 100
extras and 80 vehicles.
Miller again chose Warner to distribute Max II in
Australia and overseas. (Warner paid $400,000 for world
rights.) As they had done with Max I, Warner opened the film
in Japan where it was an instant hit (ultimately grossing 15
million); a few months later they opened Max II in Australia
(December, 1981), where it grossed four million, outdoing the
original and becoming the second all-time box office winner
383
(behind Peter Weir's Gallipoli). Max II won several AFI
awards, including four for technical achievements — editing,
sound, art direction, costume design; Miller also won for best
director, and the film received a special jury prize. Released
overseas in summer, 1982, Max II did exceptionally well, where
it was released under the name Road Warrior, garnering $25
million, $15 million in the United States alone — despite
heavy summer competition, including E.T. and Rocky III. Miller
also made a deal with NBC television network, which bought the
television rights for $3 million.
In addition to its commercial success, Max II won prizes
at two film festivals — the grand prize at the Avorize
(France) festival and best film at the 11th festival of Science
Fiction and the Fantastique in Paris. Max II was also the
favorite of overseas critics, and appeared on the "ten best"
lists of 17 film critics (including the New York Times.
Washington Post. Time and Newsweek, and the Los Angeles Times.)
The consensus was that Max II was a dazzling technical
achievement — "the jangly fast editing.. .grabs you by the
throat or lower, and doesn’ t let go until it's over."27 "The
garish nightmare elements of all-stops out horror movies seems
to heat Miller's inventive juices to the fever level."28 Max
II is tighter, more coherent, and the final chase sequence is
brilliant crafted through the mise-en-scene and the editing to
create a dazzling high speed tour de force of pure spectacle,
which many critics regard as a textbook chase sequence. With
384
its box-office success, Max II joined Max I in breaking out of
the art house circuit (the usual status for Australian films
overseas), and Australians spoke proudly of their "native son"
who gave the local industry international clout, and most
important, broke into the revered American market. The success
of Max II significantly boosted Miller's career in Hollywood;
Steven Speilberg, reported an avid Road Warrior fan, asked
Miller to direct one of the segments he had planned for his
feature film, Twilight Zone - The Movie. (Each of the four 20-
30 minute segments would be based upon an original made-for-
television "Twilight Zone" episode.) Miller, a fan of the
television series, eagerly accepted Speilberg's proposal. His
particular section, "Terror at 20,000 Feet," was consistent
with his interest in horror and evil, focusing on an airplane
passenger who is the only one able to see a fiendish ghoul
which sits on the wing, sabotaging the plane's engine.
Miller's segment was generally regarded by critics and viewers
as the best part of the film, his creation of an atmosphere of
pure terror enhanced by his direction of John Lithgow, who
gives a chilling performance.
Back in Australia, with the proceeds from Max II. Miller
and Kennedy bought an old movie house in King's Cross in
Sydney, and established Kennedy Miller Productions, in order to
produce high quality television mini-series. Their studio was
modeled on the Hollywood studios in the 1930's and 1940's, with
a "house" of contracted directors, screenplay writers and
385
technical personnel. In contrast to the commercially oriented
Max I and II (and later Mad Max. Beyond Thunderdome), the
product would reflect serious Australian themes rooted in
Australian history. The first production, "The Dismissal,"
(1983) examined the sacking of Prime Minister Gough Whitlam in
1975. (Kennedy died in 1983, but Miller continued with his
productions, keeping the same logo for all productions, but
taking on another producer, Doug Mitchell.) His second
production was "Bodyline," (1984) which focused on the cricket
wards between Australia and Britain in the 1930's; their third
production, also made in 1984, "Cowra Breakout," examined the
plight of Japanese p.o.w. 's interred in Australia during World
War II.
With the success of Max II (and Gallipoli), Mel Gibson
fast became an international star, often compared to American
actors Steve McQueen and Clint Eastwood and reportedly
receiving one million dollars per picture. After Max II.
Gibson appeared in the DeLaurentis picture, Mutiny on the
Bounty, playing the role of Fletcher Christian (directed by New
Zealand director, Roger Donaldson), then in three American
pictures: Peter Weir's Year of T.ivina Dangerously (1983)
(discussed later in this chapter); Mark Rydell' s The River
(1984); and Mrs. Soffel (1985), directed by Gillian Armstrong.
386
Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome
Even after the world-wide success of Mad Max II. Miller
stated that he had no intentions of doing another sequel, but
when he and Terry Hayes were having dinner one night in 1983,
Hayes mentioned to Miller an idea for a story he had which
centered on a tribe of feral children in a remote comer of the
world, waiting for a legendary lost leader. Miller adds, "It
was then that I realized we were talking about the next chapter
in the Mad Max saga."29 Over the next year, Miller and Hayes
developed the script, retaining the same basic formula, Max as
loner, (fifteen years later), facing a band of marauders.
However, they intentionally restored and developed Max's
humanism and paternal instincts through his association with
two post-Holocaust societies, one a feudal village, Bartertown,
the other a primitive community of children, Crack in the
Earth. Max would still be challenged (as in I and II) to
demonstrate his strength, courage and survival skills, but he
would became a hero with heart.
Once he had his script, Miller got in touch with Melbourne
stage director, David Ogilvie, with whom he had successfully
collaborated on his television miniseries, "The Dismissal" and
asked him to co-direct the significantly more ambitious
picture, thinking it would be fun, efficient and would made
Thunderdcroe a better film"30 Miller financed the $13.5 million
387
film himself, the budget supplemented by 10RA monies (See
chapter 6).
Miller shrewdly cast his leading players with the
international box office in mind. Mel Gibson agreed to play
Max again, eager to portray a more developed character,
believing that at the end of Max II there was really no where
for Max to go. For the role of Auntie Entity, ruler of
Bartertown, Miller and Hayes felt they needed somebody with
vitality and intelligence. "To make her control over
Bartertown credible, she [would] have to be a positive [if
tough] character, rather than a conventional evil bad guy. "31
They thought of Tina Turner, the American rock and soul singer;
Miller had seen her interviewed on television in which she had
expressed a desire to act in more films (her only screen
credit to date had been as the Acid Queen in Ken Russell's rock
musical Tammy). Once contacted, Turner was anxious to do the
role, and even cane to Sydney way before shooting began to help
with the evolution of her character and also to take part in
workshops with other actors and actresses.
Turner also contracted to use her singing talent in the
film, doing the opening song "Out in the Desert, and the
prologue, "We Don't Need Another Hero." Miller and Hayes also
chose another singer from pop music, Australian Angry Anderson
(head of the band, The Rose Tattoo), for the role of Ironbar,
Auntie's personal bodyguard, whose actual appearance, shaved
388
head, his body covered with tattoos, like the punk/Mohawk look
of Wez, would give the character an awesome appearance.
Mad Max. Beyond Thunderdome is actually two films, both
tailored for broad-based commercial interest. In part I
Bartertown, Miller and Hayes capitalize on and play out the Max
myth. Max, still the mercenary, yet agile, strong and clever,
is hired by Auntie Entity to kill the giant (Blaster) who
guards the rebellious genius dwarf (Master) who has the secret
formula for the city's energy source, methane, and who
frequently challenges Auntie's authority by causing power
blackouts.
Max and Auntie are linked by their common pasts — both
seasoned fighters, and natural leaders surviving on their wits,
aggression and violent acts. Max figures in Auntie's scheme
for the "greater good of the community," and reassurance of her
control over Maxter and the power system.
Thunderdome, Auntie • s system of justice has simplified the
all-out battles in the past (as in I and II), where entire
towns were wiped out, and human manpower depleted. According
to Auntie's rules, all conflicts must be settled in the arena,
the only rules — "Two men enter, one man leaves." Thunderdome
looks like a crude hand-made version of an American sports
astrodome, suggesting that these "facilities" capitalize on and
satisfy the public's taste for violent and deadly athletic
competition.
389
One death per dispute thus purges the need for citizens to
fight, as they live out the violence through vicarious
experience. Indeed, the spectator is often the participant
(perhaps playing out the fantasy of many a sports spectator),
providing the combatants with giants mallets, chain saws,
throwing a punch here and there (even getting killed by a stray
weapon).
Hie spectacle of Thunderdome is also set up for television
bred audiences. The frame of the dome is shaped with square
cubicles, where the spectators hang, watching the action
through their rectangles. Like a television sportscaster and
game-show host, Dr. Deal Good introduces the "contestants"
entreating the blood-thirsty crowd with his line, "Dying time
is here." Blaster is an Incredible Hulk, an iron helmet
covering his face, and a good two feet taller than Max. Though
Max wins the battle against Blaster in Thunderdome, he refuses
to kill the baby-faced giant who has re-awakened his sense of
humanity and paternal instincts. But Max challenges Auntie's
political order, and is banished to the desert to die.
For Part II, Crack in the Earth, Miller has been
influenced by the adventure-action films of George Lucas and
Steven Speilberg, particularly the Indiana Jones films,32
geared for international box-office, featuring Star Wars star,
Harrison Ford. In Raiders. Ford plays a mercenary archeologist
who fights Nazis over an ancient Biblical ark; in Temple, he
retrieves a group of children kidnapped by a diabolical cult of
390
eastern Indians. Temple and Thunderdome have several
similarities. Both Jones and Max play out community mythology,
appearing seemingly out of nowhere to perform wondrous deeds
for the group of children, casting away their self-centered
personas. Both men are sky-Gods, Jones a pilot, and Max (as
the children first see him), their legendary hero, pilot
Captain Walker, who brought them to safety from the burnt-out
city, promising to return someday to retrieve them. Max soon
embodies the image and legacy of Captain Walker, which
invigorates and gives him a renewed sense of purpose. Both
Jones and Max ensure the children's safety, bringing them
"home," Jones returning the kidnapped youngsters back to their
mountain village, and Max arranging to fly his charges back to
the city.
For Part II, Miller has followed another Speilberg
strategy, focusing on child/teen-age protagonists (as Speilberg
has done in his science fiction films, E.T. or Goonies. for
example), opening up the appeal and marketing potential of his
film to younger viewers (who might not necessarily identify
with the 30-ish Max). The children from Crack in the Earth
became the co-protagonists with Max from the time he arrives
until their safe departure back to Sydney at the film's end.
Max's tough brutal trials in Bartertown give way to the child's
romantic adventure. Thus Miller/Hayes create broad appeal both
ways, concentrating on the Max myth, then shifting into a
children's adventure (a la Speilberg).
391
Perhaps nervous about offending audiences with their
politics, Miller and Hayes have discarded their Max II anti-
nuclear message and critique of a world dominated by super
powers.33 Instead, Thunderdome has a soft utopian vision —
the ruins of Sydney that the children see on their way back to
the city are quickly and magically transformed into the new
rebuilt palatial city several years later.
As Savannah, sitting with a baby in her lap, addresses the
members of the community, "We Don’t Need Another Hero" is sung
in voice-over, which functions as their national anthem,
suggesting that this new peaceful utopian society will not need
hero-warriors, and will be free of strife and wars. Heroism is
linked to "fathering" a laving strife-free and ultimately a
female-led civilization.
Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome was released simultaneously in
Australia and overseas, doing very good business. Because of
its large budget (40 times that of Max I and four times that of
Max II) Thunderdome would need three tines its $13.5 million
budget to cover advertising and overhead costs. The film
grossed $2.2 million in Australia (about $2 million less than
Max II), becoming the fifth most popular local film ever behind
number one, Man from Snowy River. Gallipoli. Max II and Pharlap
(see chapter 6.)
In the United States, the film was very popular, grossing
approximately 35 million (amidst very heavy summer competition
from Hollywood hits, Back to the Future. Rambo II and the re
392
release of E.T.). The film eventually went into profit with
Japanese and European returns, television network and cable
sales.
Reviews of Max III were generally positive, lauding the
ambitious scope of the film, its production values, art
direction and design, many reviewers, however, acknowledging
the film's less energetic, almost lethargic pace that had made
Max II so captivating. As one critic reverently commented,
"the linear drive of ground level propulsion [downshifts] to
the leisurely grace of airborne flight."34 Several pointed out
Max's highly derivative plot and style, linking it to Hollywood
formula filmmaking, far removed from Australian themes:
rThunderdome' si success has now became predicated on that
kind cultural shimmer, its canny convergence of styles,
genres and wash-and-wear plots. This might be seen as a
bad move in terms of the native authenticity of the
Australian cinema, but a healthy sign in terms of its
taking up a commanding position in that new ungenre of
world cinema, that coamic-strip cornucopia for audiences
who wouldn't be lured out for just another medieval
fantasy, just another street-gang movie, just another
science fiction jeremiad. It's doing what the Italian
cinema has done for years, reconditioning other people's
movies, mixing and matching other national mythologies.35
Because Miller was making Thunderdome so self-consciously
mythical and in the image of Speilberg films, the narrative
often becomes heavy handed and predictable, which perhaps
accounts for its failure to be the blockbuster in Australia and
the United States that the producers hoped it would be.
After the initial United States screenings in July, Miller
returned to Sydney to start another television miniseries,
393
"Vietnam," which explored the Australian participation in
Vietnam in the 1960’s. But Beyond Thunderdome had boosted
Miller's international visibility and his bankability, and
Warners was eager to continue its highly lucrative relationship
with Miller. Warners had been working with independent
producers, Peter Guber, Jon Peters and Neil Canton (producer of
the blockbuster Back to the Future), who had a script based
upon the John Updike novel, The Witches of Eastwick. Which
focused on three bored women in contemporary Massachusetts who
conjure up an all purpose man (who turns out to be the devil).
Miller agreed to direct the film, finding it compatible with
his interest in modem mythology and archetypes, this time
instead of exploring the concept of a hero, he could examine
the dynamics of man's darker side condensed in to a modem day
aristocratic devil with a ravenous appetite for women.
Witches was geared for broad audiences, and packaged with
box-office stars, including Jack Nicholson as Daryl van Home,
Cher, Michelle Feiffer and Susan Saradon as the witches, and
enhanced with an ample budget ($20 million), state of the art
special effects and high production values. Released in
summer, 1987, it was a spectacular success, grossing 51 million
in the United States alone.
All of Miler's works are compatible with (and have
influenced) popular 1980's high concept Hollywood cinema,
packaged and designed for international audiences,
characterized by a fast-paced linear narrative, the spectacle
394
of action, enhanced by state of the art special effects and
focusing on a protagonist (usually male) with fantastic powers.
This group includes, Superman. Rambo. and Robocop. the latter
highly derivative of Mad Max. Robocop a "cyborg Max" created
for maximum law enforcement in anarchic setting similar to that
in Mad Max. In another Max spin-off, Lethal Weapon Mel Gibson
replays his role as a crazy, suicidal Los angeles cop subject
to fits of violent destructive behavior.
Peter Weir
While Miller embraced Hollywood models, Weir was seriously
questioning his ties to the commercial Hollywood style. He had
consciously used eroticism in Picnic and mysticism in The Last
Wave to enhance each film's appeal to international audiences.
But even after the commercial and critical success of Wave, he
felt at a cross-roads in his career, and decided to take a
"crash course" in world film history, realizing that he needed
to expand his repertoire beyond post-war and contemporary
Hollywood cinema. He commented at the time,
For a long time, I had been asking myself: Is film a
craft or is it an art? Should I be making small, serious
pictures for art houses or big expensive ones for large
numbers of people? The result of these conflicting
thoughts over the years was that craft was the correct
emphasis for me. Because I found myself happiest in the
Hollywood tradition,... I needed to find a healthy attitude
toward what I was doing."36
Weir started with Griffith, "then moved to the Russians, then
to England, looking at Hitchcock's films; [he] shot back to the
395
States for Chaplin then France, Germany [in the 20's] working
his way up to the period of forties,"37 which is where he had
begun to see the great filmmakers on television. His favorites
were Eisenstein1 s Alexander Nevsky. Pudovkins's Storm Over
Asia. Griffith's Intolerance, and Chaplin's Modem Times, which
he perceived as having strong solid narratives.
With The Plumber, which he wrote, Weir started to take
away the commercial props — the Hollywood stylistic — leaving
only the simplest elements of the story which [could] take on
any resonance [he] wanted to give them."38 Further, since The
Plumber was a telefeature, (one of three scripts that the South
Australian Film Corporation had contracted with television
station TCN-9), Weir was free of commercial pressures, and
could address the larger context of his Imperial - American
influence over Australian politics and history, which resonated
in Australia's relationship with third world countries and
domestically in class and gender conflicts. Weir was not
planning to direct The Plumber, but when funding fell through
for Gallipoli, he decided to go ahead and direct his own
I
script. j
i
i
The story was based upon an incident that had actually 1
i
happened to same Australian friends of his living in London j
I
several years prior. A woman anthropologist and her husband a ]
doctor, had experienced a series of visits from "an over-
talkative and one-too-efficient plumber who may or may not have
been what he seemed."39 Weir incorporated this incident and
396
another one the woman had had a few years prior while doing her
field work in New Guinea. A shaman of a New Guinea tribe came
into her tent one evening and held her in a trance for several
hours, and she could only break it by throwing a bowl of goat's
milk at him. Weir thus created a narrative that compared the
two "intrusions."
The plumber's encroachment on Jill's living and working
space, and his psychological and sexual assaults create a power
struggle — a lower class man trying to overpower and outsmart
a middle-class woman as he plays out male dominance, just as
the third world tribesman challenged Jill's presence while she
was in his village for her university research. She is able to
reclaim her space and identity by committing an immoral act
(framing the plumber for a theft of her personal property).
This dynamic works in the larger context of the White
Australian state practicing morally questionable birth control
methods in primitive societies, a practice Jill's husband
(Brian) is involved in as a university health researcher in
third countries. Brian's work is perfectly compatible with his
chauvinistic attitudes at home, having urged Jill to quit her
job and be a homemaker, and to someday raise his children. (She
has her own Masters thesis, taut works in his shadow, for her
work in intrinsically tied to his.)
As part of a medical team, Brian visits neighboring third
world countries, including Malaysia and New Guinea, prescribing
birth control methods for women, arranging for a large segment
397
of the female population to be fitted with IUD's. These
practices imply that the Australian state is complicit in
suppressing future generations in primitive countries (This
•'sophisticated" technique is compatible with historical white
Australian practices, including murder and starvation, used to
control local Aborigine populations.) These procedures are
endorsed by the United States-govemed World Health Organiza
tion, headquartered in Geneva (Brian's new appointment) of
which the United States is also a major financial backer.
Australia, than, is an agent of Western Imperial genocidal
practices, ensuring the continuation of the dominant white
patriarchal societies.
Both the United States and Australia are also responsible
for suffering and death in third world countries. For as Brian
points out to a colleague, the tribal chiefs, alarmed at the
dropping birth rate, have re-instituted the ancient fertility
practice of "kuru" where the males eat the testes of dead
warriors to boost their sexual potency, a futile attempt to re
populate their villages already ravaged by white practices.
The men also practice another form of kuru where they eat the
brains of dead warriors, which transmits a deadly virus that
causes a breakdown in their nervous system and dehabil itating
convulsions — symptoms that could also be the effects of
Western junk food on their digestive systems, a tragic side
effect of advanced cultures on primitive populations.
398
In addition to serving as an indictment of United States
and Australian Imperialism, The Plumber is a rich multi-layered
examination of the interrelationship between primitive and
Western capitalistic societies with a special focus on the role
of women within these patriarchal cultures. Before being shown
on television, The Plumber premiered at the Sydney Film
Festival (June, 1979), and later made its American debut at the
Los Angeles Film Exposition in Spring, 1980, its popularity
boosting Weir's already excellent reputation among Los Angeles
audiences familiar with The Last Wave and Picnic at Hanging
Rock. Though The Plumber was not released commercially in the
United States, it played a few years later on Z cable
television. This project represents the only occasion that
Weir had the liberty to develop, write and direct his own
project without commercial pressures, a luxury he would not
enjoy with his bigger budgeted and privately financed
Gallipoli.
Gallipoli
Gallipoli was originally to be financed by the South
Australian Film corporation, but the government organization
pulled out in late 1979, arguing that the three million dollar
budget was too high. Weir and his producer Pat Lowell (from
Picnic at Hanging Rock) eventually obtained private financing
from two Australian ex-patriots who had formed a film financing
company, R and R Films, and who were eager to help advance the
career or a native son. One partner was Robert Stigwood,
producer of the enormously successful American films, Grease
and Saturday Nictht Fever, who also owned the American record
company, RSO Records. The other partner was Ruper Murdoch,
international paper tycoon, and owner of The New York Daily
News. New York Magazine and The London Daily News.
Gallipoli focuses on several months in the lives of two
young athletes from Australia, Archy Lee and Frank Dunn, who go
off to off to fight in Turkey in 1915 on behalf of Britain,
fronting for a large contingent of British troops trying to
gain a stronghold on the Gallipoli peninsula so the British can
overtake the Turkish forces, help the Allies take the capital,
and knock Turkey out of the war. The ill-equipped Australian
troops are no match for the Turks, and are slaughtered. Archy
is killed in enemy fire, because Frank, a communications runner
for the light horse brigade is not fast enough to return to the
front lines from headquarters to call off the final attack.
Through the characters of Archy and Frank, the former a
die-hard Empire enthusiast willing to sacrifice a brilliant
running career to war, the latter (initially) a nationalist and
isolationist, Weir explores the attitudes of a country which
linked its pride as a new nation to its performance in the war,
which it perceived as a great adventure and its rites of
nationhood. Weir links sports achievements to war "performance"
suggesting not only that war was regarded as the greatest
challenge at the time for a young athlete, but also that war
400
took its toll on a generation of the strongest and most fit
young men, on behalf of an Empire British cause in a European
war thousands of miles away.
Gallipoli also works as a metaphor for Australian soldiers
dying for an Imperial-American cause during the Vietnam war in
the 1960's. A former anti-Vietnam activist himself, Weir in
interviews has linked the two war experiences as having a
profound impact on the nation. Though Australian security was
never threatened, both wars tore the country apart, even though
the Great War was initially perceived as a necessary and noble
cause for Australia. The cruel dogmatic British martinet,
Colonel Hamilton, who sends the colonial light brigade on their
suicidal mission into Turkish gunfire, is emblematic of the
American military establishment that ordered Australia to
accompany the United States into their suicidal Imperial
mission in the Pacific. Yet Weir turns the tragic Imperial
mission into a glorious timeless legend.40 The film's final
shot is Arch held in freeze-frame, enshrined, enabilized, Weir
cutting off any further explanation of the immediate political/
historical context, which resonates in the Austral ian/American
dynamic in the 1960's and 1970's.
Like Vietnam, the Gallipoli campaign was a defeat. After
ward, Anzac troops stayed in their trenches through the rest of
the summer, the campaign at a stalemate; there was little
fighting and much boredom. Further, the men were plagued by
disease, cold and a continuing shortage of supplies, feeling
401
misdirected and unable to do what they had come over to do —
fight. With the change of the British government in September,
1915, Britain eventually reconsidered its position, and the
Allies decided to abandon the peninsula. In theory Gallipoli
was a viable idea, but the British completely miscalculated the
strength of the Turks. Because the campaign failed, the war
was prolonged, lasting three more years. Similarly, during the
Vietnam war, the United States soldiers, untrained in guerrilla
warfare, underestimated the intelligence and power of the Viet
Cong. Because Vietnam failed, the United States, and to a
lesser extent, Australia, suffered loss of face world-wide, not
to mention tremendous financial and human loss.
Both wars caused dissent at home. During World War I, war
hawk Prime Minister Hughes tried twice to pass a national
conscription law, but the electorate turned it down both times,
the country bitterly divided over the war, in the wake of the
tragedy of Gallipoli, and finally realizing that the war would
be extended indefinitely. Though Australia eventually lost
approximately 60,000 men in a war that did not even concern
Australian security, causing sections of the populace to
seriously question Britain's power, Australia ultimately
deferred to Britain. The new conservative government placed
loyalty to Britain above local patriotism, and Australia still
expected Britain to provide Empire leadership, guidance and
protection. Likewise, Prime Minister Holt's "all the way with
LBJ" and gung-ho war policy in the mid-1960's caused a split
402
within the Liberal party as well as within the electorate.
Many rallied behind the anti-war Labor party, which was elected
in 1972, but the new Whitlam government essentially reinforced
American ties, Canberra perceiving the American defense network
as essential to Australian security. Had Weir followed up on
the Gallipoli campaign and examined subsequent events locally
and internationally, his narrative could have had a richer
impact and ironic resonance.
The Gallipoli campaign, then, reinforced Australia's
colonial status, just as the Vietnam war helped to re-colonize
Australia under Imperial United States, points which Weir
avoids, seeking rather to eulogize the colony/country. This
dynamic perhaps explains the divergent critical opinion of the
film within Australia, some buying Weir's myth, calling
Gallipoli the best film of his career, and a work expanding his
range thematically and aesthetically.41 Others however,
perceived Weir's vision version as reductive, trite and
shallow, even selling out to international audiences. As one
critic commented, the film was "history adapted to the American
teen market."42
Nevertheless, Australian audiences bought the myth, which,
can be linked to the nation's self-image — "competitiveness,
mateship and a sporting spirit,"43 the very themes Weir
foregrounds. Gallipoli became the most popular Australian film
ever, ultimately grossing $4 million, also winning nine AFT
awards, including honors for best picture and best direction,
403
screenplay and best actor (to Mel Gibson in the role of Frank
Dunn).
Weir ostensibly intended Gallipoli, like The Plumber to be
different from his other works, stripped of commercial
elements, and in the tradition of great war films, such as
Alexander Nevsky and Storm Over Asia. Weir's favorites after
his crash course in history, which do foreground the greater
political/historical context. With Gallipoli however, Weir has
romanticized war, turning it into a glorious commercial
spectacle, via high production values, characteristics usually
ascribed to the Hollywood product, and compatible with the
commercial goals of the American/Australian financiers, who
wanted to launch their company with a "flagship" film.
Accordingly, Gallipoli was quite popular with United
States audiences. Released by Paramount in Fall, 1981, it
grossed $2.5 million, its reception unequivocally establishing
Weir's international credentials. Gallipoli, then, not only
demonstrates Weir's gravitation back to Hollywood models and
stylistic, but his reluctance to rigorously criticize Imperial
America. His next film, The Year of T.-ivincr Dangerously, dhows
further proof of this trend; significantly, the film was
financed primarily by the American company, MGM-UA.
The Year of Living Dangerously
in Year. Weir directly examines colonial Australia's
complicity in United States Imperial aggression in Indonesia.
404
The narrative focuses on a young Melbourne journalist on his
first overseas assignment in Indonesia to cover the Sukarno
government. With the guidance of his cameraman Billy Kwan, a
Chinese-Australian dwarf, Hamilton makes key contacts and
develops into a first rate journalist. However, he betrays the
trust of Kwan and his British love, Jill Bryant, an attache
with the British Embassy, leaking to the press news of a
Communist arms shipment from China. The United States backed
military right wing in Sukarno's government retaliates, in a
reprisal against the Communists, toppling Sukarno, causing the
country to explode into chaos. Hamilton leaves Indonesia
escaping to London with Jill.
In preparing their script, Weir and writer David
Williamson changed C.J. Koch's novel to reflect the American/
Australian connection, changing Hamilton's heritage from
Australian/British to Australian/American, which enabled Weir
to explore the ambivalence of a country whose sympathies are
tom between Indonesia, a third world country, and super power
the United States, which seeks to overthrow the Sukarno regime.
The friendship between Chinese-Australian Billy Kwan
Hamilton suggests that Kwan/Indonesia and Hamilton/Australia
have the potential for growth through collaboration. Billy
functions as Hamilton's eyes in Indonesia, serving as his
cameraman, and his muse, giving him tips about stories that
need to be written about the real Indonesia — the poverty,
disease, and the anti-American sentiment. Hamilton cavers the
4 0 5
rally against the United States Embassy, and also (with Bill's
help) interviews the head of the Communist Party* Hamilton
serves Billy's political sensibilities, not only fueling his
hope for a better Indonesia through Communist rule, and his
heart-felt concern for the impoverished (he has adopted a young
woman and her son who live along the canal slums), but also his
questioning of the politics of his former idol, President
Sukarno. Sukarno, like the master puppeteer of the Japanese
shadow theatre, balances the East (the Chinese-backed Communist
Party, the PKI), and the West (the United States backed right
wing military), living in opulence while the country starves.
i
I
But Billy also sees Hamilton as an agent of the West; he !
I
I
refers to him as "technically American," and therefore an ,
i
enemy, suggesting Australia's complicity with the United States j
in exploiting Indonesian resources and using the country for a
military stronghold. The grotesque lush/debaucher Pete Curtis
(whom Billy despises, and whom Weir changed from Canadian to
American to suggest the ugly American), represents what Billy |
I
fears Hamilton could became — an agent of Imperial America
ravaging a dying Indonesia. Curtis seeks out prostitutes at
night in a local cemetery; his indulgences link sex with death,
foreshadowing America's suicidal invasion into Vietnam,
Curtis's next assignment. !
The film ultimately demonstrates that Hamilton' s American
ties supercede his friendship with Billy Kwan and also his
links with his British love, Jill. By writing the story of the
406
communist arms shipment, he acts as an agent of the United
States, facilitating a right wing military reprisal against the
local Communist party, and throwing the country into a reign of
terror. Because Jill, as well as the whole Embassy staff must
leave the country, the narrative suggests that United States
aggression even threatens the security of its own allies. The
death of Billy's son is emblematic of future generations
destined to live impoverished lives under tyrannical rule.
Billy's own death signals the end of not only a collaborative
relationship between Australia and Indonesia, but mutual
economic growth and diplomacy as Hamilton/Australia realizes
his American ties and sells out to the United States.
Because Hamilton chooses to leave Indonesia during a time
that would be a journalist's haven in covering a major coup in
a key third world government, the narrative further suggests
that the United States has used the Australian journalist as a
spy. Hence, it appears Hamilton was probably sent to Indonesia
only to infiltrate all pertinent sources to ferret out know
ledge of the Communist influence. His mission, done, Hamilton
retreats to Britain, suggesting that the colonial has done his
job, but must maintain his deferential status with United
States ally Britain, sent far enough away to protect his cover.
Year also shows the influence of classical and
contemporary Hollywood political thrillers. As part of his
research for Year Weir looked at the films made by Warner
Brothers in the 1940's, many of which focused on a political
407
crisis in a third world country during World War II — Passage
to Marseilles (the Caribbean), To Have and Have Not
(Martinique) and Casablanca (Morocco). All these films feature
Hollywood actor Humphrey Bogart as a soldier or bar owner. Weir
has designed the laconic chain smoking Hamilton in the image of
Bogart. Even Jill exudes the worldliness and sophistication of
Bogart's love, Ilsa.
Year also fits into a group of contemporary Hollywood
international political thrillers set in third world countries,
particularly where the United States has influence, either
supporting the current government or rebel forces that seek to
cause its downfall — for example, Missing. 1982 (Chile) or
Under Fire. 1983, (Nicaragua). Like Year, these films focus on
a journalist from the West whose objectivity is challenged.
After narrator/co-protagonist Billy dies, the film is cam-
promised to a Hollywood stylistic, as the new star, Hamilton,
takes over. As we have seen, Billy's Austral ian/Indonesian
cinema is politically engaged, an unsensationalized examination
of the soci-econamic problems of Indonesia. His aesthetic,
which is exemplified in his black and white photographs of
Indonesians, foregrounds content, showing the grim facts of
everyday living — the disease, poverty, starvation. Yet
Billy's files on Jill and Guy suggest that he regards them as
players in his own drama, like a puppet master/director
managing the lives of the Prince and Princess, as he refers to
them in his Javanese puppet theatre. He dabbles in fiction,
408
then, foreshadowing the narrative's shift away from Billy's
dominant mode — documentary realism — to Hamilton's Hollywood
style which ignores the political/social/ economic reality and
stresses a formaliac plot and action. This is dramatically
demonstrated as Hamilton leaves the country. As he is driven
to the airport,44 miraculously getting by armed guards, people
are shot down by several men in military uniforms, yet
Hamilton's narrative does not engage itself in explaining the
reasons or implications of this violent mass murder (as Billy's
would have); the scene only adds to the thrill and danger of
his escape. Hamilton also gives up his tapes of his interviews,
his narrative not concerned with the voices of Indonesia, which
would have served as the text for Billy's pictures. Hamilton
moves effortlessly through check-in, magically obtaining a visa
while hundreds of others are denied theirs. Outside, Hamilton
calmly walks out on the runway, center stage, larger than life.
(The chaos in the airport is out of frame.) In the background
of the shot, several Indonesians push the stairs toward the
plane, their diminished size inn the background emblematic of
their insignificance in Hamilton's narrative. He embraces Jill
on the plane, the triumph of romantic love in a happy Hollywood
ending.
By hinging the end of the narrative on the rekindled
romance between Guy and Jill, Weir sacrifices narrative
credibility and simplifies the greater political-historical
context, an issue that many critics, journalists and historians
409
found problematic in the film. Bernard Kalb, former Indonesian
correspondent for the New York Times, cites the scene where Guy
and Jill break through the roadblock set up by the military
after curfew, racing off to consummate their passion, Kalb
comments, "Nobody with an appetite for life, would smash
through an army roadblock during a time of spreading violence
and get away with it — unscathed."45 Kalb also alludes to the
ending at the airport:
That [Hamilton] could leave the airport so easily, so
effortlessly, waiting on the runway while plane is held up
for him, after he has waltzed past immigration officials
at the international airport with a little goodbye wave —
NO WAY!46
That Hamilton, a first-rate journalist, would leave the country
for love on the brink of the biggest scoop of his career and
fly several thousand miles to London (and not home to
Australia, at least to resume his job), is blatantly
inconsistent with his career motives. (It also does not make
sense that Jill would re-join Hamilton after he has ruined her
career.)
Furthermore, Weir avoids examining the dynamics of
Indonesian politics in an international context (just as he
ignores the implications of Gallipoli on Australian and world
history). President Sukarno, a major figure in Indonesian
history, is merely a cipher in the film. The viewer has only a
few glimpses of him in the palace, riding in a motor car
through the crowd, and is encouraged to perceive him, as Billy
does, as a fallen hero. Historically, Sukarno was responsible
410
in the 1950's for Indonesia's political independence from the
Dutch. But the transition to "neo-colonialism" did not solve
the country's economic problems, for Sukarno continually played
off the interest of both China and the United States, wanting
the best of both worlds in terms of economic/political ties
with both countries.
What the film never explains is the title of the film
itself, Sukarno's very words to describe the year (1965) that
he made his move toward stronger bonds with China, while
expressing publicly his disdain for the United States. This
made the right wing contingent in his own government as well as
the United States very nervous. Sukarno actually wanted to
align the country with China, and requested the delivery of
100,000 small arms to Indonesia (without informing the army of
regular defense ministry channels, ultimately wanting to create
a fifth force of peasants, to supplement the army, navy, air
force and police, against what he called the gun barrels of
'necolim' — the neo-colonists and imperialists — the western
affiliated right wing generals and the United States.47
The abrupt coup however, changed the course of Indonesian
history from that day on, for the country was ruled by a puppet
regime, indirectly controlled by and answering to Washington
(nervous about another threat in the Pacific, South Vietnam).
None of these facts is detailed in the film, which implies that
the arms shipment was a secret FKE plot to overthrow the
government, and that the right wing reprisal was "necessary."
411
Nor does the film document that hundreds of thousands of
communist sympathizers were massacred under the orders of the
new regime (which became notorious for its brutality and
corruption), or that Washington began supplying it with tens of
millions of dollars of military aid (with very little going to
upgrade the standard of the country).
Finally the film suggests that only the FKE was interested
in solving Indonesia's massive economical problems. (Essen
tially, the FKI wanted to turn the country into a communist
state.) Many Indonesian, non-communists, and anti-communists
devoted their energies and lives into redirecting the national
life of Indonesia toward some form of stability and sanity. By
simplifying the politics, Weir turns Indonesia into a cliche of
the economically and politically ravaged third world country.
Perhaps Weir began to feel uncomfortable with the full
implications of the United States connection he had conjured up
by switching Hamilton to Australian/American heritage.
(Initially he had avoided reading the book because he had been
told it was a political novel.) Never wanting to lose sight of
his source of financing, the politically conservative Hollywood
establishment, and the broad based, entertainment oriented
international audiences for whom the film was intended, (and
clearly not really wanting to make the film a political essay),
Weir avoids indicting or offending the United States beyond a
few anti-American innuendoes scattered throughout the film,
412
feeling that he had said enough about the United States through
the obvious ugly American, Curtis.
The romance of Year proved to be popular among audiences
and boosting Gibson's aura as a matinee idol. Paramount opened
the film in wide release in the United States, and Year
ultimately grossed $3 million, in addition to profits from
television network and cable sales. In Australia the film did
respectable business, grossing $1 million. (Linda Hunt's
performance as Billy Kwan was singled out as brilliant, and
several months later, the American Academy of Motion Pictures
awarded her an Oscar for best supporting performance for an
actress in 1982, which enhanced her film and stage career in
the United States.)
Logically, Year became Weir's ticket to working in
Hollywood. After taking a year off, Weir was asked to direct
Witness, (backed by Paramount) by the film's producer Ed
Pressman, and its star, Harrison Ford, Who would play an honest
cop hiding out in an Amish community while on the run from his
corrupt police colleagues. Witness fit into the popular 1980's
action/adventure cop-genre films: same comedies ( Beverly Hills
Cop. 48 Hours), others dramas, (Fort Apache The Bronx. No Where
to Hide and Clint Eastwood's Dirty Harry films). Like Tast
Wave and Year. Witness focuses on an intruder in an alien
culture, but Weir again avoids any in-depth examination of the
"invaded" community, choosing instead (as he did in Year), to
foreground the romance that develops between the Amish woman
413
(played by American actress Kelly McGinness) and Ford. With
its box-office ingredients, Witness did extraordinarily well,
grossing $25 million not only in the United States, but
throughout the world.
Weir's next picture, Mosquito Coast enabled him to
continue the collaboration with Ford and his interest in
American themes, again focusing on an outsider in a foreign
culture. Coast focuses on Allie Fox, whose disgust with life
in America leads him to pack up his family and move to Central
America to start over, living a pure, primitive existence in
the jungle, (and serving as a safe metaphor for the American
sphere of influence in the Southern Hemisphere.)
Both Miller and Weir then, successfully capitalized on
Hollywood models and commercial formulas, modes which enabled
them to simplify or repress the greater political/social/
economic implications of the Imperial American Colonial
Australian dynamic, while foregrounding entertainment values
for international audiences. Weir uses a metaphorical war film
(Gallipoli) political thriller (Year) to suggest Australian
complicity with and deference to United States Imperial
practices in strategic Pacific third world countries. But only
in The Plumber does Weir directly indict the United States.
However, in all three films, Weir plays down the Ugly American,
relegating him to a minor Character (Don Feldner in The
Plumber, and Pete Curtis in Year) or turning him into a
romantic lead (Hamilton in Year) or a British Imperialist
414
(Colonel Hamilton in Gallipoli). Miller, in his Max
mythologies, only briefly implicates superpower United States
in his Mad Max II prologue, criticizing, however, both the
United States and Russia for their initiation of a fictional
global nuclear war. Both filmmakers then play it safe, neither
actively or rigorously analyzing or challenging United States
dominance, just as historically, the Australian government was
deferred to the United States.
Their films further demonstrate that Australia functions
as a mid-Pacific film colory under the power and spell of
Hollywood myths and formulas. Both filmmakers then have sold
out, compromising the presentation of national themes to
international standards. Their commercial successes serve as
models for private investors in the industry's next phase, the
tax-break period where "worthiness and quality cinema" no
longer mean the risky non-commercial examination of unique
themes inherent in Australian history and society (the goals of
the government funded period), but translate into a profit-
oriented Hollywood modeled product geared for international
markets.
415
Notes
^•Coral Bell, Dependent Ally: The Study of Australian
Relations with the United States and the United Kingdom Since
the Fall of Singapore (Canberra: Australian National
University, 1984), 215.
2Anne Summers, Gamble for Power (Melbourne: Thomas
Nelson, 1983), 98.
3Bell, 226.
4Bell, 224.
5Bell, 234.
6Bell, 243.
7David Stratton, The Last Wave: The Australian Film
Revival (Sydney, Angus and Robertson, 1980), 271.
8David Chute, Film Comment. July-August, 1982, 29.
9Chute, 30.
- * - 8The time is designated "a few years into the future” but
in the sequel Miller and Kennedy qualified it as a post-nuclear
era, which explains the bombed-out appearance of the environ
ment, and also the nuclear winter weather. Fall-out or the
danger of radiation is alluded to in Max II. as some of the
predators wear gas masks, and also in Max III, when someone
offers Max contaminated water.
11David White, Australian Movies to the World (Melbourne:
Cinema Papers, 1984), 95.
- * - 2After the success of Road Warrior. Mad Max was re-
released in the United States, the publicity stressing that Mad
Max was the predecessor to the now popular sequel.
13Stratton, 42.
14Tom Buckley, The New York Times. October 14, 1980, 35.
15Jack Kroll, Newsweek. September 20, 1980, 50.
16Chute, 27.
17Chute, 28.
416
18Chute, 30.
-^Chute, 30.
20Chute, 30.
21White, 97.
22Chute, 37.
22Joseph Campbell, Hero of a Thousand Faces (Princeton:
Princeton University Press, 1972), 245.
24Italian filmmaker Sergio leone reworked the Shane myth,
clearly showing the influence of Yojimbo in his Western A
Fistful of Dollars (1966), featuring the then-unknown actor,
Clint Eastwood, as the Man with no Name, who sells his
gunslinging services to two feuding families. The film's
popularity generated two sequels and made Eastwood an
international star.
25Chute, 34.
26Ridhard B. Jewell, "Neoteric Cowboys: The Emergence of
the Futuristic Western," unpublished paper.
27Pauline Kael, The New Yorker. September 6, 1982, 96.
28Chute, 27.
29F.X. Feeney, "The Road to Dreamtime," L.A. Weekly. July
12-18, 1985, 34.
30Feeney, 34.
31Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome production notes, 4.
32Lucas served as executive producer, Speilberg as
director, on both films. In following that latest Lucas/
Speilberg models, Miller eschews the less trendy Campbell
monanyth. "For me, the model has had good practical value, but
I could never write a script if I had to stop every three pages
and say, 'Well, this happened in classic mythology, so this has
to happen to my hero.'" (Feeney, 37.)
33The narrative of Mad Max II is preceded by a prologue/
history of Max's past, including several scenes from Max I, as
well as a documentary sequence which explains the post-nuclear
setting for both films. This post-Apocalyptic world is the end
result of a fragile world economy based upon oil super power
alliances with oil-rich countries and the stockpiling of nuc
417
lear weapons. Miller further suggests that this devastation was
caused by the United States and Russia, the "two mighty warrior
tribes" which went to war over oil rights in the Middle East,
"deserts that sprouted pipes and steel." The tremendous power
that oil-producing countries wield is suggested later in the
narrative when Humongous is referred to as the "Ayatollah of
Rock 'n' Rolla," linking him to Iran's despotic leader who uses
the country's critical role in the world economy as a political
weapon, often acting out its power through terrorist acts.
341homas Doherty, "Review of Mad Max: Beyond Thunderdome."
Cinef antastique. no.5, 1985, 35.
35Richard Combs, Monthly Film Bulletin. October, 1985, 312.
36Pat McGilligan, "Under Weir.. .and Theroux," Film Comment.
December, 1986, 29.
37MbGilligan, 29.
38McGilligan, 29.
39Stratton, 52.
40The government and historians turned the tragedy into a
celebration of the nation's courage and fighting spirit, for a
national holiday was set aside to commemorate the Gallipoli
landing, April 25. Historian Russell Ward comments, "So history
was made by a glorious failure. At Anzac Cove Australians had
shown the whole world — and themselves — that they could
fight as well, or better than the men of any other nation,
including England itself, something most of them could not have
believed before 1915." As Ward later points out, enlistments
in the Anzac Imperial Force shot up. ( The History of Australia;
The Twentieth Century) (New York: Harper and Row, 1977), 127.
41Brian McFarlane, "Peter Weir," Australian Motion Picture
Yearbook. 1983. (Melbourne: Roscope, 1983), 244.
42McFarlane, 245.
43McFarlane, "Review of Gallipoli." cinema Papers. July-
August, 1982, 285.
44The scene at the airport is reminiscent of the closing
scene in Casablanca, where I Isa and Rick meet at the airport,
purportedly to fly off together. Director Michael Curtiz and
his writer Jules Stein do not compromise the film to romance as
Weir does; Rick stays behind to fight Nazis a move more con
sistent with his character and political convictions throughout
the film.
418
45Bemard Kalb, "Cinematic Art vs. Reality," The New York
Times. January 23, 1983, 17.
46Kalb, 22.
47Kalb, 22.
419
Chapter 6
The tax break laws (1981-present), legislated to broaden
as well as shift the financial base to private financiers by
offers of lucrative film investment write-off's, transformed
the local industry into one more international in scope, and
ultimately modeled on Hollywood, for filmmakers bent on profit
and with an eye on world markets increasingly adopted overseas
commercial formulas and popular generic conventions. This
emphasis on commercial viability represented a shift away from
the "quality" risk-taking projects funded during the Australian
Film Commission period, where the emphasis was on the non
commercial presentation of themes indigenous to Australian
history and society. However, a safer, more commercially
reliable product demonstrated that native Australian-ness was
compromised or suppressed — a logical development in the wake
of the Hollywood-derived success of George Miller and Peter
Weir. This playing out of cultural cringe was compatible with
the greater context of Australia's 40-year acquiescence to
super power America. It's as if the tax laws had given
420
filmmakers license to play out a major Australian obsession,
Imperial American domination of colonial Australian politics,
history, and culture.
This chapter will examine the development of the industry
during the first five years of the tax-break period, 1981-1986
demonstrating that the tax laws essentially turned the local
industry into an off-shire Hollywood colony, as filmmakers
searched for international markets. Further, four films will
be examined that best demonstrate this loss of national
identity not only on the level of the industry, but also in the
greater political context of colonial Australia acquiescing to
its mentor, Imperial America.
Duet for Four (1982) made during the first year of the tax
break legislation, focuses on an Australian toy manufacturer
who refuses an American buy-out of his business, a situation
analogous to the local film industry and the director's warning
to local filmmakers of the "threat" of Hollywood. The Man from
Snowy River (1983) and Death of a Soldier (1985) demonstrate
the movement away from active resistance to Imperial America to
resignation with American occupation. Snowy demonstrates
American dominance on the cultural and political level: the
film not only uses the conventions of the American Western to
present a legendary Australian ballad, but demonstrates that
American capitalism compromises Australian nationalism and
independence. Death of a Soldier explores American military
rule during early years of World War II, demonstrating colonial
421
Australia's passive acceptance of its new Imperial mentor.
Taking its cue from the enormous commercial success of Snowy.
Crocodile Dundee reinforces the 40-year political bond, and
glorifies American cultural superiority as Mick Dundee divests
himself of his Australian-ness and transforms himself into a
Western hero.
The tax laws were initiated to shift the financial
responsibility from the Australian Film Commission to the
private sector. During its first six years (1975-81), the
commission had suffered unforeseen losses; about half of the
250 films were total write-off's; 38 percent showed some
return, and only 16 percent showed a profit. Producers and
directors also wanted a broader financing base, and from 1978-
80 lobbied the Fraser government, already amenable to changes
in tax lav® to support the film industry and make film
investment more attractive to private investors and thus take
the burden off the commission.
Further, the economy was stable and thriving and the
government could afford to lose "a few million" to support the
industry that had brought so much acclaim to the country.
Fraser saw the opportunity to gain political points (and votes
for the coming election) from the industry sector for his
support of what had became one of Australia' s most popular and
revered industries.
Implemented in June 1981 (though investors could take
advantage of the new laws as early as October, 1981), the
422
Income Tax Assessment Amendment Act 10BA provided one of the
most generous write-offs for any industry (more lucrative than
technological industries and oil exploration, which offered 100
percent write-off.) The Act gave Australian investors 150
percent write-off on their investment for production expenses.
These "deductibles" included capital expenditures, such as
producer's fees, production overheads, sets, props, and legal
expenses in contracting cast and crew. Further, an investor
could also exempt from taxes a percentage of the profits from
the film — up to 50 percent of the amount originally invested.
Concurrently, the role of the film commission was cut back
to "developmental." The AFC would only cover 10-20 percent, as
opposed to the 40-70 percent of production expenses it had
covered in the past. The Commission made the following
statement:
Where a film is eligible for tax incentives, the Commis
sion will not compete with private sector investment.... It
now expects the private sector to provide a significantly
higher level of support.1
Also, the Commission's annual budget was cut back to five
million (from 10 million) to cover developmental expenses, or
"non-deductibles" (ranging from $5,000 to $15,0000 grants),
which would complement 10BA production monies. These included
acquisition of a property > the writing of a screenplay, writers
and editors fees, consultations with directors and/or other
experts, location surveys, fees and contracts for the selection
of cast and crew.
423
The law also stipulated that the film was to be completed
within a year (and in answer print form) in order for a
investor to receive his/her deduction, the government rationale
that these 10BA films were to "be made to be sold and seen."2
Though the number of films that went into production the 1981-
82 calendar year (June 30-July 1), was 40, up 10 from the
previous year, the sheer number of so many new projects
suddenly put undue stress on limited facilities and resources.
Owners of technical facilities (sound stages, including props)
as well as crews would often sold out the highest bidder.3
Labs were pressured to get out dailies and answer prints, often
compromising quality. Frequently, the schedules of producers
and investors did not coincide, for producers would want to
start planning and preparing their production schedules in
July, whereas many investors would want to wait until may or
June of the following year to invest, leaving producers only a
few months to make a film.
As a result, many productions were delayed and eventually
abandoned for lack of funds and/or facilities (The average time
for a production was from 16-20 months.) Same productions,
which became known as "commercial quickies" were thrown
together — an easy way to write off taxable income and make a
quick buck. Because the law did not designate that the film
had to have significant Australian content, (as the AFC policy
had mandated), many of the 10BA films were not even
recognizably Australian. Many filmmakers followed George
424
Miller's lucrative examples, either using Roger Corman models,
exploiting violence, such as Turkey Shoot (1982), which focused
on a week-end hunting outing, or the Mad Max formula, as in BMX
Bandits (1982) which focused on a gang of motorcycle
terrorists.
Several producers used other reliable Hollywood models.
Far East (1982) was a reworking of Casablanca, set in
contemporary Vietnam. The Pirate Movie, an adventure musical,
further compromised its Austral ian-ness by importing two
American starts Kristie MCNichol and Christopher Atkins. The
filmmakers of Man from Snowy River, incorporated the classical
American Western into a famous Australian ballad. Very few
films from this period (1981-83) focused on issues inherent in
Australian culture,4 demonstrating that filmmakers, when faced
with commercial pressures, had little faith in Australian
themes, as if they were box-office poison. Tim Burstall's Duet
for Four was the exception, resisting commercial models or
elements, for it extolled Australian culture and independence.
Many producers viewed the one-year limit as a serious
threat to the integrity and survival of the industry. On
several occasions in 1982, representatives from the Film Action
Group (made up of directors and producers) lobbied the
government for an extension of the production period to two
years. Many legitimate producers who had begun their careers
in the 1970's with government grants, and loans, had either
seen their projects fold in the early tax break years due to
425
late financing arrangements, or had suffered in some way from
the terrible bunching of productions. Of the forty films that
started production in 81-82, only 18 were completed (and of
that number, only 10 found distributors).
In his campaign speeches at the end of 1982 and in early
1983, Fraser promised to extend the production write-off period
to two years beginning in July 1983. Even though the Liberal
government was voted out of office in March 1983, the new Hawke
Labor government implemented the new amendment to 10BA (which
was consistent with Hawke' s campaign to support the arts).
Thus, according to the new law a taxpayer could write off
his/her investment in the first year, and a film did not have
to be completed until the end of the next fiscal year. Further,
the amendment specified new guidelines for Australian content:
1) the overall concept of the film, including the events and
characters portrayed [were] "not to be alien to the Australian
multi-cultural experience; 2) a film was to be made wholly or
substantially in Australia with an Australian cast and crew
(except where another nationality was specified in the
script).5
However, as the certified films* for the next two years
demonstrated, Australian content received a fairly loose
* All projects in treatment form, made with 10BA money were to
be submitted to the Minister for Home Affairs for provisional
certification. Upon completion a permanent certification would
be issued.
426
interpretation from the government, and filmmakers increasingly
avoided native Australian themes, becoming more interested,
however, in packaging international projects.
The product fell into three major groups: a small
percentage, (approximately 20 percent) focused on uniquely
Australian issues (much like the AFC films in the 70' s); about
30 percent were concerned with universal themes, not
specifically or inherently Australian; the largest group used
Hollywood formulas and stars, often addressing the role of
super power United States on Australian history and culture.
The AFC-modeled films were low budget ($1-2 million),
geared for local and overseas art house circuits, and
deliberately non-commercial. For example, Silver City (1984)
focused on the problems of Polish immigrants attempting to
integrate into post-war Australia; Strikebound (1984) examined
a coal miners' strike during the mid-30's, in which miners held
out for higher wages and better conditions; We of the Never
(1985) focused on white station owners in mid-nineteenth
century, attempting a peaceful co-existence with native
Aborigines.
Paul Cox became one of the most prominent and
internationally renowned of the filmmakers from the second
group, working with intentionally modest budgets ($1 million
and under), examining alienation and isolation among middle
class adults, problems common in any modem society: lonely
Hearts (1983), two shy and inhibited people fall in love; Man
427
of Flowers (1984), a man comes to terms with the death and
haunting memories of his mother; My First Wife (1985), a couple
experiences the breakdown of a several year marriage. Cox was
not known for his Australian-ness, but for his compassionate,
intelligent presentation of people in mid-life crisis. Other
filmmakers, also working with low budgets, focused on the
problems of young people living on the fringe of middle class
society, as hookers and thieves in John Duigan's Mouth to Mouth
(1984) or as counter culture rock musicians dabbling in drugs,
Ken Cameron's Monkey Grip (1985).
The third group was composed of deliberately commercial
films with large budgets ($5 million and up) high production
values, and geared for broad - based local and overseas
audiences. Several filmmakers tried to follow the success of
Man from Snowy River, encasing an Australian theme in a popular
Hollywood genre, frequently using an America star. Frog
Dreaming (1985) starred Henry Thomas from E.T. fame, in a
Speilberg adventure spin-off. Rebel (1985) starring Matt
Dillon, used the vehicle of the musical to present a love story
between an AWOL GI and an Australian show girl during World War
II; the film also addressed the role of the United States
military in Australia at this time. Coca Cola Kid (1985),
featured Eric Roberts in a romance/screwball comedy, as an
aggressive Coca Cola executive eager to take over the local
beverage industry, the film also playing out the threat of
American capitalistic take-over of indigenous Australian
428
industries. others used the vehicle of a Hollywood genre,
essentially repressing any local Australian qualities. Gillian
Armstrong's Starstruck (1984) was a Judy Garland-Mickey Rooney
"putting on the show" musical, using popular rock music for the
film's many numbers. The Empty Beach (1985) was a noir-like
crime thriller with a Bogart-like protagonist played by
international Australian star Bryan Brown. All films (except
Empty Beach) were successful in obtaining American distributors
and did good business for several weeks.
A few filmmakers, such as Tim Burstall, dared to criticize
the United States with low-budget high-risk projects, deliber
ately avoiding conventional formulas and box-office ingredients
and boldly addressing the dangers and hazards of the American
military liaison. A Street to Die. (1985), for example,
focused on the dilemma of Australian Vietnam veterans exposed
to Agent Orange. One Night Stand (1984) explored the last
night in the lives of four young people in Sydney, caught in
the cross-fire of nuclear bombs. Local distributors were wary
of both films: Director Bill Bennett sold Street to
television; Stand had a brief run in Australian theatres.
Because of the inherently anti-American themes, no distributors
in the United States would pick either film up.
Though coitpromising the Austral ian-ness of much of the
product, 10BA broadened the economic base of the industry (in
1983-84, a record $130 million had been invested in films), and
infused filmmakers with new confidence (in the same year, 35
429
projects had begun production). However, 10BA was costing the
government millions. Early in 1984 the Hawke administration
expressed serious doubts about renewing the legislation for
fiscal year 84-85, as the Government estimated that the write
off’s in fiscal year 1982-83 had cost the treasury 28-60
million, and in 1983-84, 40-100 million. These losses
exacerbated the 30 million deficit that the Hawke adminis
tration had inherited from Fraser. Arguing that the treasury
needed to recover tax losses to the film industry, in July
1984, the government cut back the concession to 133:33, and a
year later, capped the write-off's to 120:20 (the present 10BA
figures.)
To offset this loss to the film industry base, the Hawke
administration re-organized and revitalized the Australian Film
Commission, boosting its role in production and radically
changing its funding policy. Not only was its budget tripled
to 18.4 million for 1984-85, and 19 million for 1985-86, but
the Commission took on a while new international profile. Two
new offices were added, Script Development (June, 1984), and
Special Production Fund (September, 1984), each with a budget
of several million dollars, their purpose to develop
"commercial projects, likely to proceed into production."6 The
AFC would still provide funding for non-deductibles (to
complement 10BA monies) but "priority projects" — those with
box-office potential — could receive from $30,000 to $100,000
for developmental funding. The Creative Development Branch
430
(originally established in 1975 to provide modest funding for
experimental or low budget films), would now function as an
adjunct to these branches. With its new $3,000,000 budget (up
a million from the prior year), it would serve as a training
ground for new talent, who would "graduate" to more commercial
projects funded by Script Development and Special Production
after an apprenticeship with the CDB.
The Marketing Division assumed a more sophisticated and
internationally focused profile. Formerly a small office, its
only major affair the Cannes Film Festival, and staffed with a
few personnel, lacking the expertise to aggressively market
projects overseas, the new Division of Marketing added several
seasoned marketing officers (from local distribution companies)
and its working budget was doubled $500,000. Over the next
year, Marketing identified six major world film markets (in
addition to Cannes) to launch the Australian product — three
in Italy, two in the United States (Los Angeles and New York)
and one in Monte Carlo. Further, the Los Angeles and London
offices of the Australian Film Commission placed more emphasis
on publicizing feature films. (Their original job was to
promote documentaries from Film Australia.) Officers were
selected with international distributing experience to advise
visiting Australian producers on the marketability of their
films and to provide them with local distribution contacts.
Marketing also had an annual budget of $2 million from which to
dispense grants and low interest loans to filmmakers for
431
traveling to festivals and markets, and to cover print
duplication expenses.
To complement the Marketing Division activities, the
government put into effect (in September, 1984), the Export
Rebate Tax to provide incentives for producers to promote their
films abroad. With a $5,000 deductible, the government would
return up to 70 percent of marketing costs to a producer (up to
$200,0000), with the AFC providing the immediate cash flow with
low interest.
Over the next two years, however, the lower tax rates made
the industry even more dependent on reliable commercial models;
films focusing on indigenous Australian themes diminished to an
even smaller number than with 150:50 tax rate. For despite the
added security of the Australian Film Commission, and the
legitimacy of government pre-production incentives, the lower
rates created a wave of conservatism among investors with
regard to the conditions under which they would invest, and the
nature of the product they funded. lower write-off rates meant
a higher break-even point for returns and high stakes for
profits. For investors with a 60 percent tax rate, for
example, a 150 percent write-off for an investment of $1,000
would save $1500 off taxable income, a savings of 60 percent of
1500, or $900 in taxes. An investor, then, would need only a
return of 10 percent of his/her investment, or $100 to break
even. However, at the 133 percent rate, an investor would need
a 20 percent return, or $200? for 120 percent, a 28 percent
432
return of $280, would be necessary. Thus, the diminishing tax
rates recessitated double and triple the return rates. For the
taxpayers with lower tax rates (49 and 40 percent), the 133 and
120 percent write-offs presented real financial liabilities
(and other industries such as mineral and land development,
albeit at only 100 percent write-off, bagan to look far more
stable than the film industry). The 49 percent bracket would
need a 35 percent return at 133 to break even, and a 40 percent
return at 120; the 40 percent bracket would need 47 percent at
133 percent to break even, and 50 percent return at 120
percent.
Accordingly, investors were increasingly reluctant to
invest their money unless the commercial worth of a project was
guaranteed. One form of a guarantee was the security of a down
payment in the form of a pre-sale or distribution guarantee
from a reputable production and/or distribution company which
would promise 40-70 percent of a film's budget and assured
markets upon a film's completion. Investors reasoned that if a
distribution company would invest in a project, then it had
potential commercial worth and could secure good returns,
logically with the new 120:20 rates in 1985, many local
producers travelled to the United States to pitch their high
concept pictures. As one director commented, Australian themes
were irrelevant to international distributors. Companies such
as Hemdale, Alive Films, Atlantic Releasing, Paramount and
Warners offered the most sought-after and lucrative contacts.
433
Another guarantee was a project with proven commercial elements
sure-fire box-office ingredients such as international stars,
high production values, popular Hollywood genres helmed by a
director with a viable track record.
From 1984 on, then, investors and producers played it
safe, the typical industry product a medium to large budgeted
film, ranging from four to ten million dollars with the
security of a pre-sale or distribution deal packaged for
international appeal. Australian-ness was incidental and
frequently suppressed. For example, The Good Wife (1986), a
domestic melodrama about an adulterous bush-wife in the 1930*s,
was underwritten with a 40 percent pre-sale commitment from
Atlantic Releasing, and featured internationally recognized
Australian stars Rachel Ward and Bryan Brown (who had appeared
in several American films). Dead-End Drive-In (1985), was
packaged for the lucrative youth market with state-of-the-art
special effects. The film was financed by a 40 percent
distribution guarantee from Hoyts, featuring a male protagonist
modeled on Mad Max and Indiana Jones. Crocodile Dundee (1986),
boasted Australian and American television "institution" Paul
Hogan, portraying a mythical bush and Western hero. The
t , i ahthorseman (1986), directed by Snowy producer Simon Wincer,
did focus on an Australian theme, the Battle of Gallipoli;
however, clearly the producers were hoping to gamer the same
audiences who had flocked to Peter Weir's film, Gallipoli.
t, i cfht-horseman was budgeted at a record $10 million, with a cast
434
of thousands, emphasizing the spectacle and romance of war,
using the same Hollywood conventions that had influenced
Gallipoli. On the other hand, "local" material, was in short
supply. For example, Tim Burstall's Kangaroo (1986) based upon
D.H. Lawrence’s travels in Australia between the wars, fell
through several times because of funding problems and lack of
investor interest. It took Margaret Fink producer of the highly
acclaimed My Brilliant career, four years to find funding for
For love Alone which focused on a young Australian woman in the
30's Who becomes involved in the impending war in Europe.
Even a director with the international stature of Bruce
Beresford, had trouble raising $2 million in 10BA money for his
Fringe Dwellers (1986), an examination of the problems of a
contemporary Aborigine family living on the fringe of rural
white society. Though Fhillippe Mora had a successful record
with The Pirate Movie, and Hollywood picture, The Howling II.
it took him two years to find the three million for Death of a
Soldier. He finally sold it on its similarity to Breaker
Morant. which also featured Imperial scapegoats in a courtroom
drama. By July l, 1986, of the 40 films submitted to the
Minister for Home Affairs for certification, only five focused
on indigenous Australian themes.
In order to better understand the course of the industry
during the tax break period, the rest of this chapter will
analyze the ideologies of four films which best demonstrate the
selling out of the local industry to Hollywood models and
435
dominant American culture, this in the larger context of the
Imperial American/Colonial Australian relationship.
Duet for Four
Duet for Four was thematically consistent with Burstall's
earlier works which played out aggressive Australian national
ism: Stork, in which an ocker resists the establishment, or
Petersen, where the working class colonial undercuts oppressive
British influence. Duet, however, was Burstall's first project
to "take on" Imperial America, and was conceived and developed
during the early years of the tax break period. It was
deliberately non-commercial, made on a modest $800,000 budget
with developmental monies from the AFC, the Victorian Film
Commission, 10BA investments.
The film plays out Australian opposition to and declara
tion of independence from corporate American control as a local
toy manufacturer, (Ray), turns down an offer from the vice-
president (Al) of American owned toy company, Masco, one of the
largest toy manufacturers in the world to permanently establish
American control over all facets of the manufacturing and
distribution policies and practices of Ray's company. The film
is also Burstall's caution to his colleagues to resist selling
out the local industry to American money and Hollywood models,
which could precipitate loss of national identity and cultural
integrity, two very real threats posed by the new tax laws.
436
Ray has built his toy company from scratch over the last
two decades, using his draftsman's skills, fascination with
machines, and his management and investment expertise. His
company has an admirable sales record, and is one of the
leading toy manufacturers in Melbourne. Ray's position is like
that of many film producers and production companies in the
1970's (including Burstall himself) who built a reputation
creating indigenous films for local audiences. Yet, like many
producers, Ray's sales are threatened by competition from
American toys. Al's offer would give Ray a chance to
distribute the popular and prestigious American line, and go
"big time," for the association with a major American producer
would put him a notch above his local competitors, and help him
realize bigger profits and increase his wealth (just as
Australian distributors Hoyts and Greater Union have prized
their links with Hollywood companies who supplied them with
films popular with local audiences). Ray also likes being
associated with material wealth — he "keeps" a houseful of
trendy commercial art, in which his estranged wife "the
curator" still lives. He is still friendly with her, and his
inability to divorce her (much to the disappointment of his
live-in girlfriend) suggests that he fancies the association
with the commercial products, just as he fancies the
association with the American toy manufacturer whose company
gives him class and prestige. At first Ray courts the
sophisticated suave American, and even starts to act, talk and
437
dress like him. Al is a slick, seasoned entrepreneur, looking
like a movie mogul, perfectly coiffered, and dressed in an
expensive suit, cigar in hand.
Yet Al's motives in choosing Ray's company as the American
distributor are motivated by greed and power, and the desire to
extend the American sphere of influence. Like the American
film companies' traditional perception of Australia, Al/Masco
perceives Australia/Ray's company as ripe for Imperial American
development/control. Australia would serve only as an outlet
for the American product — an off-shore subsidiary/colony that
would require United States leadership and guidance. Further,
Ray would only be the puppet head, with Masco holding 51
percent controlling interest, with Al running the show back in
America (much like the Hollywood film company 20th Century Fox,
which for 40 years had a controlling interest in Hoyts).
However, Ray's refusal of Al1s/Masco's offers enables him
to maintain his Australian integrity. He further rallies all
the major Australian toy companies to resist any further
American deals and take-overs by Masco, assuring the high
principles and "character" of the whole toy industry. The new
corporation intends to step up production of indigenous toys to
provide local consumers with a unique product as good or better
than the American ones. The new consolidated industry is
composed of bright, aggressive patriotic Australian men imbued
with a new nationalistic spirit, reminiscent of the early days
of the film renaissance, and represents Burstall1 s faith in a
438
new generation of Australian producers/distributors free of
Imperialistic American control and able to resist the
inposition of the American mainstream product.
Having successfully led the revolt/break away from Masco,
Ray steps down and lets his young partner take over. Just as
Ray breaks free of the commercial American influence, he is
able to divorce his wife (his remaining link with the material
world), and make a marriage commitment to his girlfriend. He
returns to his first love, trains, and takes a job managing
train rides for children on antique trains — a less lucrative,
but more personally satisfying work. Ray, then, plays a major
role in the preservation of Australian culture, be it toys,
films or trains. He assumes a key position in teaching a new
generation of Australians to appreciate native culture, just as
he led and helped his Australian colleagues to respect the
local product.
Though handled by a major Australian distributor, Duet had
a limited release, with an unenthusiastic publicity campaign,
as if Greater Union was nervous about promoting a film
challenging American corporate domination (headed by an ugly
American), or offending its Hollywood contacts. Duet, which
did fair business in Australia, was never picked up for
American distribution; its only United States screenings were
at Landmark Film-sponsored Australian Film Festival in 1981 in
Los Angeles and Sacramento. With his next film, however, Naked
Country (1985), modeled after John Ford Western, Burstall
439
played it safe with a commercial Hollywood model, just as his
colleagues for the Man from Snowy River had. Like Snowy.
Country was well received at the box office. Clearly,
challenging American Imperialism had proven costly at the box
office the first time, for Duet lost money. Burstall thus
ignored his own warnings and succumbed to commercial pressures
and profitable American models.
The Man from Snowy River
Instead of challenging American domination, as Burstall
had with Duet, the filmmakers behind The Man from Snowy River
chose to capitalize on the United States liaison, utilizing
their favorite Hollywood model. Producers George Burrowes,
Simon Wincer and director George Miller, all seasoned veterans
from series television, developed their first feature film, a
$4 million 10BA project as high concept commercial fare for
broad audience appeal. They based Snowy on one of Australia's
most popular poems (by the same name) by writer Banjo
Patterson, to appeal to generations of Australians who knew the
ballad by heart. "Snowy" celebrated the spirit of the young
country at the tum-of-the-century, and focused on a young
orphaned mountain boy who proves his manhood by riding on his
own into the rough and dangerous mountain terrain to round up
his boss's prize colt and a herd of wild brombies (horses) even
after more experienced mountain men have called off the chase.
440
With an eye on the international market, the filmmakers
also incorporated the conventions of the classic American
Western to appeal to Australian viewers, who like them, had
been raised on Westerns (in theatres and on television). As in
the classical Western, an ideal hero with special skills is
presented who demonstrates his superior skills and who obtains
special status in the eyes of the community and his peers by
taming and civilizing the wild, hostile environment. Like
directors of Western, Snowy's filmmakers celebrate the late
nineteenth century frontier/bush, glorifying the awesome
mountain landscape where the forces of civilization confront
those of nature. The filmmaker's casting of veteran Western
actor Kirk Douglas in a dual role — as the villain rancher
Harrison who becomes Jim's boss and antagonist, and his twin
brother, Spur, the miner, Jim's mentor and friend — reinforces
the film's Western tradition. Harrison, like a Texas land
baron, has made his fortune in cattle. Welcoming the railroads
and new towns, he operates as a civilizing force, but he
aggressively exploits the land only to enhance his own wealth.
Jim, on the other hand, respects and has a unique bond with the
land, having been bom and raised in the mountains. He demon
strates his superior riding and tracking skills: gently taming
Harrison's wild colt and rounding up stray cattle in the
mountains — two tasks that Harrison does not have the ability
to do.
441
Jim earns his special status, the privilege of claiming
his birthright — land passed on to him by his late father —
by single handedly rounding up the wild brambles in a virtuoso
display of riding skill, speed and courage, showing up Harrison
who has deemed the pursuit too dangerous and close to impos
sible. Furthermore, Jim earns the respect of the station
owners and mountain men throughout the land and moves into
legendary status as the venerable Man from Snowy River.
The conflict between Harrison and Craig also plays out
Imperial America's political/economic relationship with modem
Australia. As an American living on Australian land, Harrison
is the American capitalist exploiting the colony purely for
his/America's profit. Harrison has ruled his territory with an
oppressive hand, killing native Australian spirit, emblematized
by his late wife, Matilda.7 He won her after making a fortune
on a lucky bet at a horse race, but soon broke her spirit and
her joy for life with his cruel and domineering ways, suggest
ing that America has been and continues to be a destructive
force and oppressive presence in Australia.
Jim challenges the "foreigner's" occupation of native
Australian territory, and when Jim/Australia proves his
manhood/nationhood, he/the country earn the right to co-exist
on equal terms with America on Australian soil. By refusing
the $100 purse that Harrison offers for bringing back his prize
colt, Craig demonstrates that he/Australia cannot be bought out
or controlled by America at any price. Jim also takes the hand
442
of Jessica, Harrison's daughter in marriage, he thus wrests her
away from American control, restoring Australian lineage,
suggesting that she and Jim will birth a nation of proud,
spirited Australians.
Just as Jim proves himself superior to the Imperial
American, so does he get rid of another Imperial power, the
Briton, Curly, a ranch hand, who tries to bully Jim. Curley is
short, not very smart or skilled, suggesting the decline of
British Empire power. It doesn't take much for Jim to outsmart
or outride Curly, knocdc him out in a fight and subsequently out
of the narrative altogether.
Though Jim breaks away from the control of the cruel
Harrison, he forms a bond with Harrison's kind and generous
brother, Spur, who shares his gold claim with Jim, suggesting
that Australia can live in a compatible relationship with
"benevolent" American occupation. The film further suggests
modem Australia coming to terms with American occupation of
its native land, that Australia will share its wealth — in
land and minerals — in exchange for the security of American
surveillance and (military) protection.
Snowy was distributed by Hoyts and opened in June, 1982,
becoming an instant hit with local audiences, knocking out
Hollywood blockbuster Star Wars as the top grossing film,
eventually setting a record for any Australian film — $8
million — until E.T. superceded it over a year later.
However, Snowy maintained its status as the most popular
443
Australian film for local audiences until Crocodile Dundee in
1986. Opening in the United States in Fall, 1982, the film did
good business after a several month run, making ten million,
ultimately grossing 20 million world-wide (excluding Australia)
with sales including net work and cable television.
The local popularity of Snowy suggests that Australian
audiences admire and identify with Jim Craig's feisty national
spirit in the face of oppressive American domination. As
Burrowes commented, "Jim wins, therefore Australia wins."8
Several local critics echoed Burrowes comment, one declaring,
"Jim Craig measures up the way an Australian lad should."9
However, because the film endorses Imperial American
"occupation" on two levels, co-existence with American
capitalists on Australian soil, and the imposition of the
conventions of the Western on an Australian poem, the film's
wide popularity suggests an inherent colonial mentality on the
part of local audiences who are comfortable sharing their land
with Americans and with Hollywood mythology Americanizing a
uniquely Australian ballad. (The filmmakers further
Americanized the poem by turning the Australian rancher into
the American Harrison, and also creating Spur just for the
film.) As argued earlier, Jim Craig is more reminiscent of a
Western hero than he is a replica of an historical Australian
mountain man. As Jack Clancy pointed out in his Cinema Papers
review, Craig is not at all like the grizzled, weather beaten,
anti-social, high plains men from historical accounts written
444
during the mid- and late 1800’s, men who spent weeks and even
months in isolation, tending cattle and horses, battling savage
extremes of weather from droughts and fires to floods and
bitter snow storms.10
Jim’s/the film’s Australian-ness then is superficial, the
American context is more significant and these roots go deeper.
The film ultimately demonstrates the country's double
colonization, using superior American culture to endorse
Imperial American occupation.
The succeeds of Snowy enabled co-producer Simon Wincer to
direct his own project, Pharlao (1984), based upon the true
story of a famous Australian race horse, supposedly killed by
American racketeers. Fharlap became another box-office success
(second only to Snowv in grosses), its popularity helped by
commercial elements similar to those in Snowy: "star” Tom
Burlinson, a boy and his horse theme, and a strong emphasis on
action. The film seemed modeled in part after the American
film, The Black Stallion, which also focused on a boy's love
for his horse, and like Stallion. Pharlao incorporated many
dazzling race track scenes with thundering horses and photo
finishes. Like Snowv. Fharlap enacts Imperial American
domination over Australia, and its success implies that local
audiences remain content as the colonial victims, cringing away
from American murderers who destroy native Australian spirit.
A sequel to Snowy is in the making, with Burrowes again as
producer and Miller as director. Described in treatment form
4 4 5
as a "Western in Australia/' focusing on the further adventures
of Jim Craig, the film promises to again capitalize on
Hollywood mythology.
Death of a Soldier
Death of a Soldier, like The Man from Snowy River, plays
out American sovereignty, but unlike Snowy. Death avoids
commercial formulas or models, and is a rigorous critique of
the oppressive and totalitarian united States military system.
Director Phillippe Mora had been a documentary filmmaker in the
early 70 *s (he had also worked on the early conceptual stages
of Newsfrgnt), but had also worked in Hollywood on commercial
fare: adventure fantasy Captain Invincible. The Return of
Captain Invincible; horror films, The Beast Within. The Howling
II. For Death of a Soldier. Mora returned to Australia to do a
serious project, a subject that had obsessed him for several
years. The script was based upon a relatively unknown incident
from Australian history that involved a severely disturbed
American G.I. who strangled to death three Melbourne women
shortly after he and a contingent of American soldiers (under
the leadership of General MacArthur) landed in Australia in
1942 to launch the Australian-American campaign against Japan
in New Guinea. Known as the "Brownout Murders," the incidents
were quickly suppressed after a monkey trial by American
officers, who were instructed by MacArthur to find the soldier,
leonsky guilty and sentence him to hang regardless of his
446
mental state, so that relations between America and Australia
could be cemented for the greater good of the Allied war
effort.
Mora worked closely with Leonsky's lawyer (Ira Rothgerger
— "Major Daneriburg" in the film), and poured through court
documents and press accounts. In spite of the predetermined
sentencing, Rothgerger told Mora he had given sufficient
evidence during the trial to prove that Leonsky was indeed
insane (which was summarily dismissed by the court).
Rothgerger had always felt that Leonsky should never have been
executed. Mora cast his friend, the American actor, Janes
Cobum for the role of Danenburg, and another American,
athlete/body builder Reb Brown (who had done bit parts in
television and features) as Leonsky, in an otherwise all
Australian cast (many of whom played the parts of American
officers).
Budgeted at $3.3 million, which was raised from over 200
10BA investors, the film was a risky, non-commercial project in
a group of increasingly conservative high concept products
using Hollywood models — and one of the few to criticize the
United States. The film not only demonstrated that murders
touched off tensions between the two allies, threatening to
cause a serious rift, but also explored the implications of the
American military presence in Australia in 1942. Essentially
the United States turned Australia into an off-shore military
base, imposing its own wartime rules and regulations on the
447
host country, which pre-figured the new Imperial American
Colonial Australian defense relationship in the latter half of
the 20th century. As the film demonstrates, almost immediately
upon disembarkation the American military officers impose new
rules on the Melbourne community which favor the Americans,
while shunting aside the needs of the community. The police
are instructed to "be flexible" with the American boys, and the
local madams and bar owners are encouraged to "keep the boys
happy."
General MacArthur and Major Danenburg present two images
of the brass to the Australians. MacArthur, arrogant, aloof,
authoritarian, reinforces the Imperial American presence. As
he is chauffeured like a deity through the streets of
Melbourne, his provost Marshall comments to the Australian
police, "He's the closest thing to God you'll ever see."
MacArthur's only line in the film, "We have a war to win,"
suggest that he/the United States military intends to win at
any cost, whatever the consequences to the Australian
community. For MacArthur, Leonsky is a bad soldier, an acute
source of embarrassment as well as an affront to the wholesome
image of the United States military abroad. As he is aware,
the murders have had a chilling effect on the increasingly
hostile and paranoid community, for local soldiers and
civilians are now perceiving the United States as the enemy,
not Japan. This new antagonism is played out when a major
skirmish breaks out between American and Australian soldiers at
448
a nearby train depot, as the Australians open fire on several
taunting American G.I. 's, turning the station into a
battlefront Where many from both sides are shot and killed.
In contrast to MacArthur, the court appointed attorney,
Major Deneburg represents a different side of the military.
Charming and diplomatic, Danenburg tries earnestly to create
diplomatic liaisons between the two countries. He treats
community representatives like equals, playing out the
potential for the two countries to maintain a viable working
relationship. He courts and romances Margo, the local army
liaison, and diligently works with the local police so they can
pool resources, tips and methods and track down leonsky
together (unlike the rest of the American officers who
condescendingly snub the locals, having turned the pursuit of
Leonsky into a competition.)
Through his research, Danenburg realizes that leonsky is
indeed severely disturbed, having cone from a family with a
long history of mental illness and alcoholism. After several
drinks, leonsky undergoes dramatic charges in behavior, turning
from a shy, easy-going man into a violent aggressive killer,
preying on helpless women. That such a man would even be in
the army, not only suggests that the United States recruited
every "able-bodied" man regardless of obvious mental problems,
but that boot camp and the war machine have shaped and
triggered the killing instinct in young men, so easily
misdirected and unleashed upon United States allies.
449
MacArthur's trial, intended to use Leonsky as a scapegoat,
further demonstrates American martial rule over its colony
Australia, for it will be conducted by an American military
tribunal, made up of the top brass, though the matter falls
under the jurisdiction of the Australian civilian courts,
clearly depriving Leonsky and the Australian courts of due
process.
The trial also foregrounds the American wartime double
standard. Though in peacetime circumstances, Leonsky would
probably be housed in a mental institution, after being
discharged and put in protective custody, in this case, his
life needs to be sacrificed in order to save the "integrity" of
the American military. However, as Danenburg points out, the
very war in which the United States is engaged intends to
protect the rights of all human beings from oppressive rule,
yet the United States practices its own form of tyranny in
Australia, making a travesty of human rights by depriving one
of its own citizens the privilege of a fair trial. Leonsky's
hanging is only to serve the greater purpose of the United
States war effort; getting rid of the misfit will enable the
war machine to function smoothly and property. MacArthur
further plays out the military's double standard when he blocks
Danenburg's efforts to send cables or call to the Justice of
the United States Supreme court for a stay of execution.
Ultimately, Danenburg must sell out to the military himself;
for his imposed "silence" MacArthur rewards him with a
450
promotion to the rank of Colonel. Its authority re-assured,
its honor in tact, the United States prepares to go to battle
against Imperial powers in the name of democracy/ its system of
justice, that "might makes right," strikingly similar, however,
to that of its Fascist enemies in Europe or the Far East, as it
assumes control over its new colony, Australia.
Death proved to be an uncomfortable subject for both
American and Australian audiences. Mora opened the film in the
United States first, hoping to build the film's reputation in
major cities (New York, Los Angeles, Denver, Houston), then
plan the Australian campaign accordingly. Handled by former
recording producers, Scotti Brothers, in their first film
distribution venture, the film attracted modest audiences,
grossing $1.5 million over a period of two months in Fall,
1986. Though Mora blamed the film's modest reception on the
distributors, whose low-key "uninspired" publicity perhaps
reflected their nervousness about the film's anti-American
message, the film's deliberate non-commercial elements and no-
holds-barred indictment of the United States proved to be less
than appealing to American audiences. In Australia, audiences
stayed away from the film, not at all responsive to their image
as a country of wimps, shying away from confrontation with
Imperial U.S.
Death eventually made its money back with overseas cable
and television sales. Mora returned to safer, commercial fare,
seemingly wanting to avoid any more controversy and instead re-
451
establish his Amer ican/Hollywood liaisons. His latest project,
a Hollywood financed science fiction film, is based on the
experiences of American novelist Whitely Streiber (Wolfen, The
Hunger) with visitors from outer space.
Crocodile Dundee
Unlike Death of a Soldier. Crocodile Dundee celebrated and
did not question the American liaisons. Dundee, a brilliantly
conceived project, capitalized not only on the popularity of
the American Western which had proven to be so lucrative for
the filmmakers of The Man from Snowy River, but also on the
appeal of local television personality Paul Hogan, who had
became an Australian institution with his sixteen year
comedy/variety show. Hogan would play two roles in the film,
first as a mythical "Australian outback folk hero" who had
always lived off the land in the rugged Northern territory,
Mick "Crocodile" Dundee would become the subject of the feature
of a New York reporter (Sue Carlton) who travels with Dundee
for several days, but who talks Dundee into visiting New York
City as her guest, where he assumes his second role, an amalgam
of classical/contemporary Western heroes. Dundee charms the
city's residents, as well as Sue, who falls in love with him.
Dundee was also carefully gauged for American audiences,
Hogan shaping Dundee to what he felt Americans perceived an
Australian to be, and also using aspects of his favorite
Western stars, including Clint Eastwood and John Wayne.
452
American audiences were already familiar with Hogan from his
television promotional ads for the Australian Tourist
Commission, as the friendly tanned public relations man in a
bathing suit, strolling on a sunny Australian beach while
shrimp sizzled on a nearby "barbie.1 ’ (So successful were
Hogan's ads, that 40 percent more tourists had flocked to
Australia.)
Like the producers of Sncwv. Hogan and partners John
Cornell (his business manager) Ken Shadie (writer and
collaborator), and Peter Faiman (who would direct) solicited
10BA investments for the majority of the $8.8 million budget,
one million of which was Hogan's own money, matched by a
distribution guarantee from local distributor Hoyts.
Though Dundee functions as an ambassador of good will not
only for Sue's behalf in Australia, but for the whole city of
New York during his American visit, reinforcing the greater
Australian American political bond, the film essentially plays
out Australia's cultural cringe to America. In Australia,
Dundee neutralizes his Australian-ness, de-mythologizing his
legendary Australian bush image by revealing that he is a fake.
Once in New York, he resurrects himself as a recognizable
American hero, suggesting that Dundee/Australia must repress
its native Australian-ness to be acceptable to its Imperial
neighbor.
In the first part of the film, the legend of Dundee is
constantly underscored by the fact that he is a fraud. The man
453
who barely survived an attack from a huge man eating crocodile,
and who crawled several miles "bleeding and hacked apart" to
the nearest hospital where he barely survived to tell his
harrowing story, is actually a crocodile poacher, whose
expedition back-fired; he got away with a slight would in his
leg — his claim to fame. Like many men in the area, he preys
on wildlife for fun and profit. (His company, Never Never
Expeditions takes big game hunters into the wild.) Dundee is
no different from the hunters he confronts one night, who are
shooting kangaroos for sport. Watching for several minutes,
clearly intrigued by the sport, but intent on preserving his
role as a noble bushman for Sue, he shoots back at the men
delighted with his guise and Sue's wide-eyed adulation. This
duplicity is demonstrated later when he "tells time" by the
position of the sun in the sky, but when Sue is not looking, he
takes a quick peek at his partner's watch. He shaves with a
razor, but when he sees her approaching, he quickly substitutes
a hunting knife. His "rescue" of Sue from the crocodile,
though looking to her like split second timing is actually
carefully contrived, as he watched her and submerged crocodile
before picking the right moment to save her life and be a bush
hero. After a while, he even seems to tire of the bushman
formality, even revealing his hypocrisy, as if in preparation
for his new role in New York — he prepares a meal for Sue from
the day's catch, snake and goanna, but then casually takes out
a can of beans for himself, with a sly smile at her.
4 5 4
Dundee's political nihilism suggests a sect of Australians
who are politically illiterate and deliberately out of touch
with world affairs, the result of years of deference to super
power America which has dominated Australian politics and
history for almost half a century. "Not my business," he
replies, when Sue asks Dundee his opinion on nuclear arms.
"But you ought to have a vote," she exclaims. "Who would hear
it out here?" he smugly retorts, revealing a colonial mentality
without a trace of national pride.
Dundee's association with the Aborigine Neville suggests
that both white and Aborigine cultures have became diffused
into a bland Westernized Australia. Neville wears levis with a
silver belt buckle. Further, he is awkward in the bush, trip
ping and falling, unable to find his way at night. (Likewise,
Dundee demonstrates that he hardly knows the land himself; the
motto of his business, Never Never Safaris is "Never go out
with us, or you'll never come back!" — an attitude compatible
with Dundee's fumbled crocodile poaching.)
By the time he decides to go to New York, Dundee is a
joke; his native Australian-ness mocked, his role as a
courageous bushman effaced, he is ready to resurrect himself as
an attractive blend of several recognizable Western heros.
Fresh off the plane, he is dressed in a Clint Eastwood broad
brimmed black hat, alternately exuding Eastwood's stoicism, the
charm of Alan Ladd, (whom he resembles) or the cool of John
Wayne. With his huge hunting knife on his belt, he is
4 5 5
reminiscent of American pioneer Jim Bowie, or David Crockett,
but instead of a coon-skin cap, he sports a crocodile vest.
For New Yorkers, Dundee is the wholesome and familiar, but long
gone Westerner. When the New York cop gives Dundee a ride back
to his hotel on his horse, the image is an intersection of
America past and present. And Mick lives up to his reputation.
Like a classical Western hero, he civilizes the wild frontier,
the crime-ridden urban jungles of New York, making the
"community" a safer place to live. He intimidates several
muggers who threaten him and Sue with switchblades, gleefully
brandishing his hunting knife, promising his own brand of
i
frontier justice. (One suspects that Eastwood's/Harry
Callahan's famous one liner "Go ahead, make my day" is on the
tip of his tongue.) Demonstrating his superior physical
skills, Dundee easily knocks out a weasily pimp who threatens
to hurt his girls, and also fells a thief with a can of i
vegetables. When Dundee's honor is challenged — Sue's finance
tries to humiliate Dundee in a posh Italian restaurant,
treating him like a country bumpkin — Dundee simply knocks
Richard out, as if he were in a saloon taunted by the town i
bully. '
Mick's egalitarian values are reminiscent of myths of
democracy perpetrated by the Western. For example, the
typically irascible cab driver becomes Dundee's best mate, and
he introduces him to his working class friends; they drink all
night together. Dundee and the Carlton family black chauffeur,
456
Gus, form a bond of friendship that enables them to overpower a
nasty gang of muggers. Finally, Dundee transforms a subway
full of hostile, pushy, impatient people into a caring
community, who relay Dundee's (and Sue's) mutual re-assurances
of love and devotion. Dundee is elevated to the status of a
super hero, seeming to walk on air as he is gently supported
and held up by the arms of the cheering crowd who pass him over
to Sue who eagerly awaits to embrace him.
Ultimately, like the Western hero, Dundee gets the girl
who drops her city slicker, and who admires and embraces
Dundee's old-fashioned values, reinforcing New York's/America's
romance with its traditional frontier ethics — honesty, a
strong moral code, resistance to corruption, acting for the
greater good of the community. By the film's end, all that is
lacking is Dundee riding off into the sunset on his horse, his
girl next to him.
Dundee was an instant hit with local audiences, grossing
$2 million the weekend it opened in April, 1986 (and soon
expanding to an unprecedented 88 screen release), ultimately
becoming the most popular film ever released in Australia,
grossing $16.3 million, and knocking American blockbuster E.T.
out of its two year number one position. Handled by Paramount,
Dundee was an even bigger success in the United States
initially grossing 158 million over a several month run that
began in late 1986.
457
Hie film's phenomenal reception overseas gave Dundee the
distinction of being the salvation of the Australian film
industry, for it represented the first overseas mainstream
success ever in history of the industry. As several local film
critics commented, the American reception restored public
confidence in the local product, this reaction demonstrating
how closely the industry's sense of worth and legitimacy was
tied to American standards and endorsement — a viewpoint that
could describe the direction and shape the film industry
throughout the first five years of the tax break period.
Dundee was a milestone in the erosion of the industry's
native identity throughout the tax break period, as filmmakers
increasingly denied the expression of native culture, suc
cumbing to commercial pressures as they utilized Hollywood
models and formula filmmaking, turning the industry into a
little Hollywood in the mid-Facific. The extraordinary success
of Dundee suggests that it will became a paradime for future
"Australian" films in which inferior native Australian culture
is nocked, compromised or repressed, as superior American
culture is foregrounded and celebrated. Local industry success
then, will be gauged by the degree and extend of Americani
zation and endorsement by American audiences.
The continuation of private investment as the major source
of industry financing, this with government sanctioning,
virtually guarantees this role for the Australian film
industry, and value system for producers. In July 1986, the
458
government reluctantly promised to extend the 10BA laws for
just one more year (in spite of estimates from the Treasury
that the state coffers had lost another 100 million in 1985-
86), in response to heavy lobbying from representatives of the
industry, including The Screen Production Association, Actor's
Equity and the Writer's and Director's Guilds, who argued that
the sacking of the tax legislation would cut industry
investments in half.
To fill in the gap in the film base created by the
forthcoming cancellation of 10RA however, the government in
early 1987 lifted restraints on public financing, (local and
overseas-based) thereby sanctioning and paving the way for an
unlimited number of private production companies to go public
and solicit private investors as shareholders for participation
in inevitable international productions. This move immediately
stimulated American investment in Australia. American based
pictures, New World and DeLaurentis Entertainment (DEL) created
Australian branches and floated $52 and $55 million (respec
tively) on the Australian market. Further, two Australian
companies joined up with American corporations in lucrative co
production agreements: Australian producer Tony Ginnane and
American company Hemdale created International Film Management,
with plans to produce five films per year; Weintraub Inter
national (headed by independent American producer Jerry
Weintraub) joined up with Australian distributor Hoyts to
produce and distribute three to five films per year. Two new
459
Australian companies were formed, Filmpac and Amalgamated
Fortman (both with international distribution connection), each
floating $70 million on the Australian stock market. Public
companies such as these would be under even more pressure than
producers with 10BA funding to satisfy their shareholders with
popular, broad-based Hollywood modeled projects that had become
the norm for the tax-break period. Theoretically these new
companies could interlock with local and overseas distributors
which had provided pre-sales and distribution guarantees for
many local projects, especially from 1984-86 when the tax
benefits diminished.
The Australian government was also playing a direct role
in the local industry's bid for world markets and active role
in overseas productions, which threatened to further compromise
the industry's identity. At the end of 1986, the government
issued a prospectus for co-productions between the AFC and
government film bodies from other countries, through which
private investors from each country would be able to set up co
productions with monies from their government or their own
resources, the latter available for 100 percent write-off.
Though the document mandated "that Australian creative
participation and financial equity was to represent no less
than 40 percent, and the amount of money by Australian
investors was to approximately equal the amount of creative
content in the project, the guidelines were deliberately vague
460
with no mention made about Australian themes, or significant
Australian content:
The requirements for qualification for an official co
production are significant: basically the project needs
to have real story logic as well as real deal logic.11
The use of the word "deal" clearly suggests an agreement based
upon formula filmmaking, commercial viability and profit
incentives, not national expression.
Another government motive for these co-productions
4
was the desire to attract foreign production in Australia, a
move which could create a situation reminiscent of the
immediate post-war period up to the early 1960's when Australia
was merely used as a backdrop for British and American
productions with no regard for the presentation of Australian
culture. The following "offer" from the prospectus outline
sounds like a country/industry for sale — a far cry from the
bold nationistic aims of the Australian Film Commission:
Australia not only offers at the moment an attractive
exchange rate, but also an extremely good climate, good
production facilities experienced professional crews and
an unequalled range of locations.1^
Finally, the government plans for a State Film Bank in
early 1987 — another strategy to fill the gaps left by the
dissolution of 10BA — with assets of $60 million, did not
formulate a policy about the nature or extent of Australian
content in the films it would finance. It was likely, as
several industry analysts commented, that the policies of the
Special Production Fund and Script Development Branch — to
fund ~proj ects -with - commercial -potent ial-— ~ would - be -the-norm, —
461
probably along the lines of Crocodile Dundee. An addendum to
the 1985-86 AFC Annual Report highlighted Dundee as the event
of the year, the film's success measured by the following
grosses: United States, $237 million, United Kingdom, $42.5
million, Japan, $17.7 million, and Italy, $15 million, these
figures clearly drawing investor attention to Dundee as the
ultimate industry ideal. With Crocodile Dundee II in post
production (touted as the "further adventures of the Westerner
in the United States"), and countless Dundee clones being
pitched and developed with full government support, the status
of the Australian film industry as an off-shore Hollywood
colony is a fait accompli.
462
Notes
^Australian Film Commission Annual Report (Canberra,
Australian Government Publishing Service, 1981), 11.
2Connie Todros, Cinema Canada. February 11, 1983, 18.
3Scott Murray, Cinema Papers. October, 1982, 7.
4Two notable examples are Winter of Our Dreams. (1982),
and Careful He Might Hear You (1983). Winter focuses on the
relationship between a hooker/drug addict and a middle class
bookstore owner, both former radicals from the turbulent
1960's. Careful traces the growth of a turn-of-the-century
young boy who gains his independence from an oppressive British
aunt, a theme similar to the early 1970's films as Australia
played out the breaking away from British influence.
5Brian McKenzie, Cinema Papers. September, 1983, 18.
^Australian Film Commission Annual Report (Canberra,
Australian Government Publishing Service, 1984), 18.
7The word Matilda is emblematic of Australia or Australian
spirit, immortalized in the Australian national anthem,
"Waltzing Matilda."
8Geoff Burr owes, Cinema Papers. April, 1982, 10.
9Scott Murray, Cinema Papers. December, 1982, 54.
10Jack Clancy, "At Second Glance," Cinema Papers. March,
1983, 105.
ll'*Co-Productions with Australia," Australian Film
Commission, Paper presented at the Independent Feature Film
Market, New York City, October 6-16, 1987, 6.
12"Co-Productions with Australia," 8.
463
Chapter 7
An economic, political and ideological analysis of the
first fifteen years of the Australian Film Renaissance has
foregrounded the country's fluctuating historical identity
between nation and colony. The Imperial-Colonial dynamic, as
appropriated from Elsaesser's theory of the double — a subject
resisting or embracing his ideal Other — has provided to be a
useful access to ideologies inscribed in Renaissance films,
which reflect and play out natiory'colony Australia's political/
cultural relationship to Imperial Britain and the United
States. Though the overall movement of the Renaissance has
been from a bold expression of national spirit in opposition to
Britain and the United States, to cultural and political
deference to Imperial America, each industry phase defines
nationalism and native cultural expression in different ways.
In Phase I, nationalism linked to is political and
cultural independence from Britain via the ocker character in
an aggressive display of difference from the British Other, as
the Australian Film Development Corporation seeks to establish
a film industry geared for native audiences with a recognizably
464
local and commercial viable film subject. In Phase II, the
Australian Film Commission years, national expression is played
out on the level of race and gender which mirror the greater
Imperial-Colonial conflicts, as Aborigines and females make a
bid for equality within which patriarchal Australian society.
The "worth and quality" goals of the AFC present Australian
cultural diversity to show off to the world, as the industry
flexes its muscles for international eyes.
In Phase III, national expression is linked to cultural
cringe, as the industry adopts superior Hollywood models; the
rich variety of Australian protagonists diminishes to an
industry obsession with a white male subject, who is an
embodiment of classic/contemporary American heroes. For under
new tax laws and diminishing government funding, the industry
is under pressure to perform in international box offices.
Each successive film in the 1980's becomes emblematic of
Australian filmmakers' search for the ideal American hero to
celebrate (and profit from) superior American culture:
protagonists are based upon classical Western heroes,
reflections of long lost American ideals. Local filmmakers,
then, give Australia's overseas mentors a pleasurable image of
America's frontier past, holding up a mirror to American
audiences, who eagerly validate Australia/Australian cinema as
t
I
a nostalgic version of themselves. Australian filmmakers j
i
finally find their place, positioned within former American
ideals.
465
This study has demonstrated the enormous power of American
models in the transformation of a cottage industry to an off
shore Hollywood colony, a shift expedited by a government and
filmmakers mesmerized by the allure of international recogni
tion and profitable mass markets. Thus to survive as an
industry, a national cinema has had to sacrifice its uniqueness
and local color, selling out to commercial mainstream cinema.
Further, filmmakers have not taken the opportunity to challenge
United States authority, as they did with Britain in the 70*s.
As if taking their cues from a cautious government wary of
offending Washington, filmmakers have avoided topical issues
that concern a significant portion of the Australian
population: United States' nuclear powered submarines in the
Pacific; Australia's function not only as a spy base for United
States intelligence, but as a storage arsenal for inter
continental missiles; Reaganomics which have threatened to
cripple Australia's economy. Clearly these "realities" are not
politically expedient for the feature film industry, perhaps
the reason why Australian filmmakers play it safe, retreating
into the American past, honoring its noble and commercial
frontier heroes, extolling American ideals, rather then facing
up to current duplicitous Imperial American practices. Further,
by celebrating the United States liaison, filmmakers have
avoided an opportunity to sufficiently explore Australia's
modem heterogeneous society — increasing numbers of Asians,
466
as well as a vigorous group of militant Aborigines, in addition
to the other half of the population — women.
Ironically, as Australia/the film industry plays out its
role as a full-fledged American/Hollywood colony, the "ousted"
Imperial Other, Britain, is making a come-back with a
resurrected film industry and bid for world markets on the
strength of its indigenous culture, separate from its mentor,
the United States, attempting to redefine its nationhood in the
80's, much as Australia did almost two decades ago.
467
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Asset Metadata

Creator Barber, Susan Torrey (author)

Core Title The Australian Film Renaissance, 1970-86: An ideological, economic and political analysis

Degree Doctor of Philosophy

Degree Program Cinema - Critical Studies

Publisher University of Southern California (original), University of Southern California. Libraries (digital)

Tag Cinema,History, History of Oceania,OAI-PMH Harvest

Language English

Contributor Digitized by ProQuest (provenance)

Permanent Link (DOI) https://doi.org/10.25549/usctheses-c17-680111

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Legacy Identifier DP22267.pdf

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Document Type Dissertation

Rights Barber, Susan Torrey

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Source University of Southern California (contributing entity), University of Southern California Dissertations and Theses (collection)

Access Conditions The author retains rights to his/her dissertation, thesis or other graduate work according to U.S. copyright law. Electronic access is being provided by the USC Libraries in agreement with the au...

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