Last month I reviewed two films headlined by the late, great John Hargreaves. Today’s piece spotlights two films from another great Australian actor of similar vintage. To say Jack Thompson is iconic is an understatement. He was one of the brightest new stars of the Australian New Wave, appearing in both lead and supporting roles in stone cold classics like Wake in Fright, Sunday Too Far Away, The Chant of Jimmie Blacksmith, and Breaker Morant as well as interesting flicks like Petersen, Caddie, Mad Dog Morgan, The Club, and The Journalist. He was the first male centerfold in Australia’s Cleo magazine, was awarded the first Best Supporting Actor gong at the Cannes Film Festival for Breaker Morant, was the only logical choice to embody Clancy of the Overflow in The Man from Snowy River, hosted a travel program called Jack Thompson Down Under, and in recent years has alternated between roles in Australian films and supporting turns as men of influence (lawyers, politicians, military men, businessmen) in American films. This piece highlights two star turns from Thompson’s filmography separated by twenty years: 1975’s Scobie Malone and 1994’s The Sum of Us.
Continue reading “Jack Thompson double feature: Scobie Malone (1975) and The Sum of Us (1994)”
This latest installment of Down Under Flix’s Aussiewood series chronicling the adventures and misadventures of Australian filmmakers abroad deals with Russell Mulcahy. This isn’t the first time I’ve written about Mulcahy on this website – see my review of his 2003 sports biopic Swimming Upstream – but it’s my first time writing about the director’s signature action fare. Following his inventive creature feature debut Razorback (1984) and the cult success of Highlander (1986), the stalwart music video director looked to be on an upward trajectory as a filmmaker. However, Mulcahy was fired two weeks into production on the Sylvester Stallone vehicle Rambo III (1988) because he wasn’t shooting enough close-ups of its hubristic star, and the subsequent production and release of the much-maligned (and deservedly so) Highlander II: The Quickening (1991) was a ghastly, pained process. Ricochet, Blue Steel, and The Real McCoy followed those professional debacles in quick succession, and these three films feel like exercises in directorial penitence: they’re moderately budgeted, straight-down-the-line mainstream features and are largely inoffensive, discounting the innately quippy immorality of the Joel Silver era of action cinema that Ricochet slots into.
Continue reading “Aussiewood: Ricochet (1991), Blue Ice (1992), The Real McCoy (1993)”
In recent weeks I’ve had the opportunity to discuss Australian films and filmmakers outside the confines of Down Under Flix.
Over at Senses of Cinema, I wrote a piece on Jane Campion’s short film After Hours (1984). Read the full piece here.
And over on The Last New Wave podcast, I enjoyed a conversation with host Andrew Peirce about Henri Safran’s family classic Storm Boy (1976). Take a listen here.
There’s a lot of other terrific content on Senses of Cinema and Andrew’s site AB Film Review, and plenty of great episodes of The Last New Wave spotlighting local films both old and new, so take the time to explore the bountiful archives.
Director: Kriv Stenders
Starring: Bryan Brown, Jenny Wu, Shari Sebbens, Miah Madden, Elias Anton, Sean Keenan
Typically Down Under Flix eschews films currently in cinemas, but I thought I’d make an exception for Kriv Stenders’ Australia Day, which is in limited release and has simultaneously made its video-on-demand debut via Dendy Direct and the Foxtel Store. Stenders’ film has divided both viewers and critics, with Luke Buckmaster in The Guardian and Blake Howard in Daily Review nicely encapsulating some of the key criticisms leveled at the film.
Continue reading “Australia Day (2017)”
Discounting the film Blackfellas, in which he plays a minor role as a racist policeman, I’m surprised it’s taken this long to cover any John Hargreaves films on Down Under Flix. A six time AFI Award nominee (including for Hoodwink) and triple winner, Hargreaves is one of the best leading men to emerge from the Australian New Wave, and I have particular regard for his work in Don’s Party, Long Weekend, and The Odd Angry Shot. Hargreaves was a natural performer: gifted and charismatic, but not unnecessarily flashy; handsome, but not movie star handsome, and slightly crumpled like a creased jacket. He was a quintessential Australian everyman ala Jack Thompson and Bryan Brown, though he’s less familiar to young filmgoers today, partly due to his untimely passing in 1996 at age 50. This article looks at one of Hargreaves’ best films… and one of his other films…
Continue reading “John Hargreaves double feature: Hoodwink (1981) and Sky Pirates (1986)”
Director: Peter Duncan
Starring: Richard Roxburgh, Barbara Hershey, Claudia Karvan, Emily Woof, Simon Burke
Troubled pianists were, briefly, a big deal in Australian cinema. There was 1996’s Shine, Scott Hick’s impeccably made biopic of David Helfgott which scored Geoffrey Rush an Academy Award for Best Actor, and then there was 1999’s Passion, a lesser-known biopic of Australian-born composer and pianist Percy Grainger. Peter Duncan’s film chronicles the early stages of the artist’s international career, as the Hobbit-looking Grainger (played by Richard Roxburgh) finds fame but is handicapped in his life and romantic relationships by his predilection for self-flagellation and the “unnatural hold”, to quote the film, that his mother (Barbara Hershey) exerts over him.
Continue reading “If music be the food of love… Passion (1999) and Garage Days (2002)”
Director: Emma-Kate Croghan
Starring: Frances O’Connor, Matt Day, Alice Garner, Radha Mitchell, Matthew Dyktynski
In 1992, Quentin Tarantino kicked off Reservoir Dogs with a monologue about Madonna’s ‘Like a Virgin’. In 1994, Kevin Smith punctuated Clerks with a conversation lamenting the fate of the Death Star construction workers in Return of the Jedi. At the risk of simplification, 1996’s Love and Other Catastrophes feels like a film both by and about the very kids that Tarantino and Smith sent scurrying to film school. Tarantino’s venerated status among 1990s movie disciples is even acknowledged in a surreal scene midway through the film (more on that later). A few weeks ago, I commented on Dogs in Space as a timestamp of both when it was set and when it was made; in the case of Love and Other Catastrophes, you can pinpoint not just the era, but practically the month, date, and day of the week it was shot.
Continue reading “Double feature: Love and Other Catastrophes (1996) and Youth on the March (2017)”