This is a short story about a uni student who got caught out in the rain while it was pretty full on. He’d forgotten his brally so he rocked up to an op shop but he lucked out (as in, there weren’t any). So he warmed up with a hot cuppa and a bikkie before heading out to see the new doco about vejjos. Then he had to run to meet up with his friends Baz, Gaz, Jez, Sus and Ads for a bit of sport. Afterwards they drank the all the beers in Baz’s eski while they chatted about the footy. After having such a good arvo he knew tomoz was going to be a great day.
Monthly Archives: May 2010
Happy Anniversary
One year ago today I arrived in Sydney, Australia.
One year ago today I noticed how great the air smelled, even out by the airport.
One year ago today I saw the Opera House and crossed the Harbor Bridge for the first time.
One year ago today I saw my first glimpse of a Sydney beach.
One year ago today I had my first Aussie meat pie.
One year ago today I had no idea what any of the crazy birds outside my window were, but I was amazed at how talkative they all were.
One year ago today I got my first taste of life without insulation.
One year ago today I realized that everyone on TV had an Australian accent.
One year ago today I didn’t really understand what “harden the fuck up” meant. Now I do.
One year ago today I was so jet-lagged I couldn’t stay up past 8:30pm. I’ve since recovered.
Thanks for a great year, Australia.
Down Under the Radar
I’ve written before about the cultural phenomenon that I had no idea existed until I arrived here. Aussies hate their own films. Not only that, Australia tends to produce more money pits per year than it produces money making commercial films per decade. I really had no idea. But recently I’ve been able to connect myself with more people in the Australian film industry, experienced veterans, young hopefuls and a handful of people in between, and I’m starting to understand why these box office blunders seem to hop out of the outback.
There are a lot of theories as to why this trend exists; that the films coming out of Australia tend to be underdeveloped, don’t appeal to a large audience and are marketed poorly. Another theory points to the quirky nature of Australian films. Indeed, all of the films I have worked on since moving here have an element of what I’d call “fantastic reality” to them. But if anything I think quirkiness helps sell a film because it generates a buzz. Think about the Aussie films that you probably saw in a theater, Strictly Ballroom, Muriel’s Wedding, Babe (should have won the Oscar that year), Priscilla Queen of the Desert and Moulin Rouge. Pretty quirky, hey? And I wouldn’t be at all surprised if the final number in Priscilla is to drag queens what the final number in Center Stage is to dancers, or what the Pamchenko twist in The Cutting Edge is to figure skaters; physically impossible but oh so deliciously fun. We all love a little fantasy, so I doubt that’s the problem.
Even though my filmmaking experiences in Oz thus far has been limited and I’ve no knowledge of the marketplace on a professional level, I’ve developed some different theories of my own. The first is that Aussies, and particularly Australian film makers, suffer from a crippling case of self deprecating humor. It exists in the best of us. Anyone with a modicum of humility makes fun of themselves and those of us with artistic talent tend to do it lot. But Australians in entertainment do this so much that even American TV star Johnny Galecki, in his recent trip to Oz, felt surprised by how prevalent it was. And he attended the Logie Awards (the Australian Emmys) an event intended to praise the great talent on Australian television. You’d think that perhaps this applies only to the old hats, the vets of the industry who have probably done a few things worthy of making fun, but I find it amongst the fresh-faced hopefuls too. I’ve already read three scripts by Aussies that each contained jokes about the hopeless state of the Oz industry. Apparently they’ve never heard of self fulfilling prophecies.
But I think the main reason Australian films tend to fail in the US (the ultimate money spending target audience for most international fare) is because Americans don’t know a damn thing about Australia. Bill Bryson said it best in his book In a Sunburned Country, “We pay shamefully scant attention to our dear cousins down under.” Before I got here everything I knew about Australia I either learned from Steve Irwin or remembered from a brief Australian Renaissance in the 1980s thanks to Crocodile Dundee and Men at Work. It was very little and hardly representative. I have yet to see The Castle, a film that’s a cornerstone of Australian comedy. And why is that? Because it’s very Australian. I probably wouldn’t have understood half the jokes in the film before I had moved here. I’ve since been loaned a copy and I will see how many I understand now. And with a great percentage of the film industry in Oz supported by government grants (a luxury for indy filmmakers if you ask me) many films coming out of the country are bound to be very Australian. With plots, places, characters and jokes heavily colored by Aussies unique culture, those films are going to be mis-understood by international audiences. Just imagine trying to explain Aussie rules football or, better yet cricket, to a Giants fan. It just wouldn’t translate.
I’m not suggesting Australians write American stories and make American films. If anything, we have too many of those already and the Hollywood machine is churning out more sequels then there are popcorn kernels consumed while watching them. What I suggest instead is that Aussies spend a little more time advertising not just their movies but themselves. They could stand to learn a little from their loud, self-important cousins to the north. If we knew more about Australia, its history, its people, its traditions, its music, its fashion, its pop-culture, its slang, its lazy Sunday activities, its drinking games, its knock-knock jokes and everything else that comprises a unique culture, then when we see a preview for an Australian movie we’d be able to say “yeah, I get that.” Stop making fun of yourselves and start telling the world how awesome you are. Chances are, we will listen. After all, in America everyone gets their 15 minutes, including a lot of people who shouldn’t. Separate yourselves from the tabloid darlings with your talents and you might even get a whole 45. Just don’t expect us to ever understand why you eat Vegemite.
