Romper Stomper

Romper Stomper

1992

Director: Geoffrey Wright

Starring: Russell Crowe, Daniel Pollock, Jacqueline McKenzie

Romper Stomper is many things, but one thing it is not is apologetic.  “Unflinching.”  “Gritty”  “Intense.”  Yes, yes, and yes.  It’s also rather unpleasant.  That’s not a bad thing per se, but the scant 90 minutes that you spend with this movie will not be the happiest of your life.   It’s perhaps most famous as the film that put Russell Crowe on the map, and although I’m not the biggest Russell Crowe fan in the world, it’s easy to see why he became a star after his turn here.  What I ultimately take from Romper Stomper, though, is a bromance flick found in a rather unexpected place.

Hando (Crowe) is the de facto leader of a group of neo-Nazi skinheads living in Melbourne.  Davey (Pollock) is his best mate and right hand man.  Enraged at what they perceive to be an encroaching Vietnamese population, the gang enacts brutal retribution on local Asian innocents.  Epileptic and drug-addicted waif Gabe (McKenzie) catches Hando’s eye, and she begins accompanying the gang on their beatings.  One day, the Asians start to fight back against the gang in a brutally lethal manner, and this triggers the slow disintegration of the group that plays out for the rest of the film.  Eventually, we are left only with Hando, Davey, and Gabe, and the inevitable violent love triangle.

Hando's insane.  Seriously.  Insane.

There is a lot of hate in this movie.  Hi, it’s about neo-Nazis.  You can’t expect heaping loads of tolerance and love.  Even knowing this in advance, it’s still very hard for me to stomach this type of cruel bigotry.  Hando’s gang is as brutal as a bunch of thugs can get without guns.  Watching them beat the crap out of random people for no sane reason at all is a challenge.  But much in the same way that A Clockwork Orange starts with several ruthlessly cold fights then shifts its focus, Romper Stomper does as well.  (In fact, there are many parallels between these two films.)  After a long and chaotic fight where the Asian community fights back and fights back hard, the skinheads are no longer all-powerful.  They are beaten, bloody, and they have been forced into a humiliating retreat.  For me, it helped me to watch the rest of the film knowing that this group was not invincible.  Knowing that such hateful speech and cruel, unnecessary actions would ultimately have to be paid for made the bitter pill a little easier to swallow.  There is still controversy to this day as to whether this film glorified the skinheads or was a testimonial against them.  I see nothing about any kind of glory in this movie; it is particularly unglamorous. 

After the turning point fight, the movie changes its momentum.  The gang is on the run and they are breaking down.  The story shifts from being about skinheads to being about Hando, Davey, and Gabe.  This is a much more typical and common movie story – two guys and one girl – but I was intrigued and invested in it.  What really helps to set apart this particular love triangle, because criminy we’ve seen a billion love triangles before, is that it plays up all three angles of the triangle instead of just two.  This is not merely a story about Gabe and Hando versus Gabe and Davey.  Hando and Davey’s relationship is just as important, if not more so, than either of their interactions with Gabe.  Skinheads are hardly gentle people, but watching Hando put a makeshift pillow under Davey’s head when Davey is passed out drunk is surprising in its kindness.  Hando kisses Davey several times, and Davey seems to be the only one in the group who can exert any sort of control over Hando.  Hando may be having sex with Gabe, but he loves Davey.  Even Gabe herself notes to Davey, “Hando doesn’t act like he likes me.  He likes you, though, doesn’t he.”  Indeed, when I first smelled the triangle in the air of the film, I wasn’t entirely certain if it was because Davey wanted Gabe for himself, or whether Davey wanted Hando for himself. 

 

How strongly is the male love angle played up in Romper Stomper?  Well, I’ll put it this way.  In an extended home invasion sequence (another massively huge tip of the hat to A Clockwork Orange there), the piece of classical music heard in the background is Bizet’s “Au fond du temple saint” from the opera The Pearl Fishers.  “Au fond du temple saint” is one of the more famous pieces from all of opera.  It’s a duet between a tenor and a baritone, and in it, the two men sing about how they both fell in love with the same priestess, but that they decided to give up their love of her because of their friendship with one another.  This song was not chosen randomly.  Any piece of classical music may have sufficed, but no, Wright picks one that specifically mirrors the plight of Hando, Davey, and Gabe.  This is total and full-on bromance, albeit of the psychotic variety.

Additionally, the performances of all three players in the triangle are very strong.  Russell Crowe as Hando embraces his inner psychotic, playing him with a frighteningly quiet power.  The characters I fear the most are those who do not shout and make lots of unnecessary noise, and this is Hando.  Crowe is great in Hando’s physicality.  Again, it’s easy to see why this movie was the first step in propelling him to stardom.  As for Davey, Pollock is all shyness and unassuming gentle nature.  He’s even likeable!  Well, as much as a skinhead could be.  Pollock manages to play the harder role of the quiet sidekick who secretly, and maybe even unknowingly, wields power over the leader.  As the girl who comes between them, McKenzie is the Australian drug-addled gang version of a manic pixie dream girl.  I like that McKenzie gives Gabe her own strength, making her no one’s victim and not in need of any man to take care of her.  I like the touch of Gabe’s wardrobe changing as she became more entrenched in Hando’s gang; she goes from girlie frocks to a military style sweater and boots, but then back to her original frock when she strikes out again on her own.

  

Perhaps the reason this triangle works so well on screen is because, unnerving as it may sound, there were apparently real life parallels.  While filming, McKenzie and Pollock were romantically involved.  For his part, Crowe had made a film prior to this with Pollock (Proof) so the two had clearly worked together before and formed a bond.  Sadly – very sadly – Pollock, himself a heroin addict, committed suicide weeks after Romper Stomper wrapped filming by throwing himself under a train.  Russell Crowe’s band wrote a song about it, called “The Night That Davey Hit the Train.”  This kind of awful true story gives the tale that’s played out in Romper Stomper an extra dose of tragic pathos.  

The sound choices are very good.  The score is full of very hollow effects, lots of echoes, and a great deal of sounds that remind me of metal on metal.  It gives the film a vicious, biting feeling, but also one that underlines the emotional emptiness of the skinhead lifestyle.  The only thing most of the gang members feel is blind hate.  What sort of existence is that, to be compelled by such an empty feeling? 

It took two days and two viewings of Romper Stomper for me to finally decide where I stand on it.  Watching the first half is difficult, because that is when the neo-Nazi skinhead mentality is presented most fully, and neo-Nazi skinhead philosophy is not pleasant.  However, I think the triangle of Hando, Davey, and Gabe that takes center stage in the second half is one of the most intriguing, intense, and oddly enough, emotionally compelling relationships I’ve seen in some time.  The final beach scene is one that sticks to my ribs, infects my brain, and refuses to let me forget it. 

Hando and Davey: psychotic skinhead bromance, for real, yo.  Hando + Davey 4-eva.

   

Arbitrary Rating: 8/10.  As distasteful as it first seemed to me, I really like this one.  It’s not pleasant, oh no, but it’s intense and compelling.

Rabbit-Proof Fence

Rabbit-Proof Fence

2002

Director: Phillip Noyce

Starring: Everlyn Sampi, Tianna Sansbury, Laura Monaghan, Kenneth Branagh

Although I am by no means an expert on Australian cinema, nor have I seen tons upon tons of this country’s films, I *will* say that there is a certain sensibility to many of the films from Australia I’ve seen that I really enjoy.  Rabbit-Proof Fence continues in the tradition of Walkabout, Picnic at Hanging Rock, The Last Wave, My Brilliant Career, and yes, even a bit of The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert, in terms of pitting man (or in this case, girls) against nature and drawing on just a hint of otherworldliness along the way. 

Three “half-caste” (re: half Aboriginal, half white) children, Molly (Sampi), Daisy (Sansbury), and Gracie (Monaghan), are taken away from their mothers in 1930s Australia as part of A.O. Neville’s (Branagh) plan to “breed the dark out of them.”  The white population was in total control of the Aboriginal population and felt it their duty to provide a traditionally white upbringing to these “half-caste” children.  Molly, though, is having none of it; she is a clever girl, and escapes the settlement in order to return to her mother, bringing her sister and cousin with her.  This involves a journey of 1200 miles on foot, following the eponymous fence, which runs for thousands of miles across Australia back to Molly’s mother’s home.

 

The tension of this film is based on racial prejudices: the whites have cordoned off the Aborigines.  This theme has been seen too many times around the world, but here in the States, we don’t hear about many of these tales as often as we should.  We only vaguely know about the struggles of the indigenous peoples in Australia; it’s good to see a movie like Rabbit-Proof Fence in order to be made more aware.  Although the concept of “The Stolen Generation” is still apparently debated in Australia (by conservatives, so take that for what you will), what is not up for debate is the racial prejudice behind such an idea.  Watching Molly, Daisy, and Gracie being ripped from the arms of their mothers at the opening of film is rough.

Given that racial prejudices lead to such vile hatred, what sets the prejudices in Rabbit-Proof Fence apart is the lack of outright hatred we see on the screen.  This is personified by Branagh’s portrayal of Neville, the man responsible for the concept of separating children from their parents in order to “raise them correctly.”  Neville is clearly the chief antagonist, the man who plots and schemes to keep the girls in their settlement and away from their mothers.  But he is also completely convinced that he is acting in the girls’ best interest by doing so.  Here is a man so utterly committed to his ideology that he honestly does not realize how morally reprehensible it is.  It’s interesting, then; Neville is not so much hateful as he has an awful case of tunnel-vision.  It’s rather like Tommy Lee Jones’ character in The Fugitive – not chasing Harrison Ford because he hates him, but because it is his job, it is what he is supposed to do.  This is mirrored by the nurse at the settlement: she is stern, but also a little kind.  She honestly thinks she is helping these children.  It’s an interesting concept of evil.

  

Necessarily filmed mostly in exteriors, we get lovely, awesome, sweeping landscapes of Australia throughout the film.  Very few scenes are indoors – in fact, most of the indoor scenes are those involving Neville.  This lends his character a kind of claustrophobia, underlining how unaware or insensitive he is of the larger world around him.  Furthermore, what’s nice about the scenery in Rabbit-Proof Fence is that the exteriors are varied.  It’s not simply barren red desert for every scene.  The girls are making a voyage of over 1200 miles; naturally, their landscape would alter along the way. 

The soundtrack to Rabbit-Proof Fence is very good, and one that I noticed right away in my first viewing.  Peter Gabriel composed it, but he doesn’t go hog wild synthesizer cheesetastic (as he is sometimes wont to do).  There’s a restraint that builds a haunting sense of isolation.  Naturally he uses many native Australian instruments (take a shot every time you hear a didgeridoo), and he can’t help but sneak some synthesizer in there a little, but he focuses on percussion.  The beats, the rhythms are the important aspects in this score, not a melodic theme.  The score provides the heartbeat of the film.

He's one badass mofo.

I smiled so broadly when David Gulpilil first appeared onscreen.  Given that I like many of the Australian films I’ve seen, and referring to those specifically mentioned in my opening paragraph, casting Gulpilil is not only awesome, but it feels right, almost necessary.  Gulpilil, in all his awesomeness, plays Moodoo, the crackerjack tracker Neville sets on the girls.  Moodoo never fails to return a runaway, and he can read the landscape like a pro.  Molly knows this, and she is immensely clever in her planning and her trek; she must be, in order to outwit Moodoo.  What I found enjoyable was watching Moodoo’s respect for his prey grow throughout the film.  Indeed, in some scenes, I was uncertain whether or not Moodoo knew exactly where the girls were, but refused to say.  Gulpilil is an actor whose performance comes from his presence rather than his words.  He can be a bit stilted reciting dialogue, but he’s awesome with piercing stares and otherworldly charisma.  In the making-of documentary on the DVD, the three girls who played the leads were shown Walkabout prior to their meeting Gulpilil (I wonder if they were shown the end).  There is a sense, especially if you consider Walkabout, of the torch being passed between generations of Aboriginal actors.

Ultimately, though, Rabbit-Proof Fence is a tense and dramatic film that makes for good watching.  It easily pulled me in and got me emotionally invested in the plight of these girls.  Cracking good yarn!

Arbitrary Rating: 8/10

The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert

The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert
1994
Director: Stephan Elliott
Starring: Terence Stamp, Hugo Weaving, Guy Pearce, Bill Hunter

At its core, you’ve seen the story of Priscilla before. It’s fundamentally a mash-up of a classic road movie and a classic outcast movie, with all the expected scenes and tropes popping up. But thanks mostly to Terence Stamp, the fabulous (in every sense of the word) costumes, and an irrepressible sense of joy and optimism, Priscilla elevates above its predictable narrative.

Professional drag queen Mitzi (Weaving) gets a call from his long-abandoned wife, now a casino manager, asking him to be her new cabaret act. He enlists his co-worker Felicia (Pearce) to get in on the act, and friend and transsexual Bernadette (Stamp) needs the distraction after the death of her younger lover. The three set out on a bus (which they name “Priscilla”) to make their way to the desert casino, meeting people and causing scenes along the way.

Strictly Ballroom and Happy Birthday to ME!

In honor of my birthday today *yay me for continuing to live* I am posting a review of a film that I downright love, adore, and cherish.  I would review it even if it WEREN'T in the 1001 Movies book, but it just so happens to grace the pages.

Strictly Ballroom
1992
Director: Baz Luhrmann
Starring: Paul Mercurio, Tara Morice

You have seen this movie before. If you’re a stereotypical dude, you’ve seen Strictly Ballroom as any and all sports “plucky player/team rises the ranks and defeats the odds” film. If you’re a stereotypical chick, you’ve probably seen Dirty Dancing. And Strictly Ballroom, when you boil it down, IS Dirty Dancing.

But but but… there is so much more to Strictly Ballroom than generalizing the plot structure.

Which makes me say NOW that unless you’ve seen Strictly Ballroom, you have no idea what this movie is all about.

In terms of story, you’ve probably figured out the pattern by now. Scott Hastings (Mercurio) is a young ballroom dancer destined for greatness in the Australian Dance Federation, but an insistence on branching out and dancing HIS ORIGINAL MOVES *shock, horror!* find him constantly disqualified and in want of a partner. Enter frumpy, frizzy, bespectacled Fran (Morice), a beginner who agrees to dance original moves with Scott. CAN HE EVER TRAIN HER IN TIME TO COMPETE AT THE BIG CHAMPIONSHIP THREE WEEKS FROM NOW?!?!?

The Last Wave

The Last Wave
1977
Director: Peter Weir




I am a ginormous fan of Peter Weir’s early Australian films before he went all Hollywood, before he became predictable. I don’t know how he managed to do it, but he has the dubious honor of being the ONLY director I can think of who made a film that cracks my all-time top ten list (Picnic at Hanging Rock) AND made one of my most hated films of all time (Dead Poets Society, a movie that pushes all the wrong buttons). Luckily, The Last Wave is far closer to the former than the latter, as it is definitely one of his early films. It is a film that has to be Australian, a director exploring his country and its conflicts in one of the only ways he knows how: through mystical film.


David Burton (Chamberlain) is a tax lawyer who gets inexplicably brought on to help defend a case of five Aboriginal men accused of killing another Aboriginal in modern day Sydney. One of the five men, Chris (Gulpilil), is the only one who will talk to David, but he won’t talk about the night of the killing. The more David gets involved with Chris and Chris’ old friend Charlie (Amagula), the deeper he seems to sink into a mystery. Unexplained weather and strange dreams; are these frightening portents of things to come?

For me, this film is all about mood; a fantastic, spiritual, uncertain, threatening mood. What Weir does so well is to create this mood, then let it wane, then bring it back, then ratchet it up. The ever so slight slow motion shot, thrown in when you’re not expecting it, or the ceaseless ping heard on the soundtrack when you expect it to be quiet, or a casual shot of something we've seen before, making it completely unclear as to what we are being shown is fact or fiction. As one of the seminal directors of the Australian New Wave movement of the 1970s, Weir’s most significant contemporary (in my opinion) was Nicolas Roeg. I mention this because I swear, the two of them must have had conversations about this concept of elliptical storytelling and slightly sinister mysticism.