GIRL, BOY, BAKLA, TOMBOY

Stars: Vice Ganda, Maricel Soriano, Joey Marquez, Ruffa Guiterrez, Cristine Reyes, Kiray Celis, Bobby Andrews, JC de Vera, Ejay Falcon and Xyriel Manabat.
Writer: Alyz Henrich
Director: Wenn V Deramas.

Rating: 3/5

The latest giddy, silly, colourful romp from Pinoy low-brow maestro Wenn V Deramas, Girl Boy Bakla Tomboy will test the tolerance of those uninitiated with his trademark mix of crass sentimentality, shrill hijinx and frantic pacing. For those already in on his jokey style (who clearly number in the 10,000s, if the film’s blockbuster status in its homeland is any measure), Deramas’ wacky vision is good-time cinema of the highest order.

Originally a vehicle for local celebrity John Lapus (dismissed from the project when he refused to lose weight for the lead role), Girl Boy Bakla Tomboy has become a high-profile platform for the versatile Vice Ganda to work his considerable physical comedy schtick in four different roles. The film represents a tour de force of sorts for the TV/film actor; the script and pacing does not allow him explore any particular depth across the four siblings he embodies, but he supplies each with a strongly defined personality and vivid physicality.

Ganda’s four archetypes are a family of quadruplets, who are deviously separated into pairs as babies. Their father, Peter (a rather bewildered Joey Marquez) flees to the US with two infants, who grow into LA princess ‘Girlie’ and cool player, Peter. Meanwhile, the birth mother Pia (Marical Soriano, the pick of the support cast) is left with homosexual son Mark and lesbian daughter Panying.

The family is forced back together when it is discovered Peter requires a liver transplant; when Peter and his LA brats return to Manila, wildly farcical set-ups and grand melodrama become the order of the day until the feel-good ending inevitably plays out (and not soon enough, with the running time stretched to an overly indulgent 104 minutes).

Ganda and Deramas have fun with the various techniques that allow the modern filmmaker to place the same actor in the same frame. It is a credit to the technically proficient crew that these scenes work so well and that the film overall has a superbly polished sheen. The director overplays the tiresome trickery for which he is known, such as sped-up, ‘Benny Hill’-style sight gags and meta references (one character claims her subplot is most important because of her order in the films’ title), but anyone buying a ticket for a Wenn Deramas film knows what they are in for by this stage of the director’s career.

It is a given that for some western viewers who may stumble into Girl, Boy, Bakla, Tomboy during its international rollout, the broad caricatures painted of homosexuality will be unforgivably crass (not to mention that one child character spends the entire film in blackface), as will Deramas’ tendency to value a cheap giggle over a worthwhile, narrative-driven laugh. But there is no denying that the filmmaker has savvy commercial instincts (the diasporic Filipino audience that attended the session in Sydney’s western suburbs with Screen-Space bellowed laughter thoughout) and that he has found a free-wheeling soulmate in his energetic, uninhibited leading man. 

HARLOCK: SPACE PIRATE

Voiced by: Shun Oguri, Toshiyuki Morikawa, Miyuki Sawashiro, Arata Furuta, Yu Aoi, Ayano Fujuda, Haruma Miura, Chikao Ohtsuka and Maaya Sakamoto.
Writers: Harutoshi Fukui and Kiyoto Takeuchi; based on the manga text by Leiji Masumoto.
Director: Shinji Aramaki.

Rating: 3.5/5

The dazzling visuals and immense scale employed by director/animator Shinji Aramaki adequately compensate (just) for the derivative narrative in his update/reboot of Leiji Matsumoto’s visionary 1970’s space-opera, ‘Harlock’.

Familiar elements, both from the source material and the wider anime universe, are forgivable given that Matsumoto’s character was a progenitor for many of the genre’s stock-in-trade components (strong, silent, romantic hero; tightly-clad, sexualised femme-warriors; fighting a rebellious cause against a corrupt tyranny).

What may prove tougher for western audiences to let slide are instantly recognisable nods to such high profile properties as Wall-E, Battlestar Galactica, and Star Wars Episodes 4-6. These come thick and fast, in both the film’s environmentally-theme plotting (the rebirth of mankind on a decimated planet Earth registers when a seedling is discovered, ala Pixar’s lovable robot story) and deep-space spectacle (key characters escape a giant worm that lives dormant in a distant space rock, just as Han and Leia did in The Empire Strikes Back).

That said, Aramaki (a legend-of-sorts amongst the Japanese anime crowd having helmed 2004’s blockbuster, Appleseed) amps up his extraordinary dexterity as a framer of pulsating outer-space action and designer of futuristic worlds. He also deftly handles the themes of vengeance, family bonds, memory and honour within the context of the sci-fi genre (a further nod to Lucas’ game-changing films), even if some of the developments strain credibility and, at 115 minutes, patience.

A series of interstitial title-cards detail the premise. Earth was abandoned when the population’s impact grew unmanageable but, with nowhere else to go, the billions returned, hoping to resettle. This triggered a period of brutal civil conflict called the ‘Homecoming Wars’; the Gaia Coalition is formed, a group who rule that the planet is off-limits to mankind.

But the mysterious, immortal space-pirate Harlock (Shun Oguri), a merciless but honourable revolutionary who traverses the galaxy aboard his classically-themed vessel, the Arcadia, with warrior-hottie Kei (Miyuki Sawashiro) at his side and ethereal alien-hottie Mimay (Yu Aoi) providing wisdom, wants to reclaim Earth in defiance of the Coalition’s edict. Gaia strong-arm militant Ezra (Toshiyuki Morikawa) sends his brother, Logan (Haruma Miura), to infiltrate the Arcadia and assassinate Harlock, but the greenie crusade that the enigmatic Captain is on inspires Logan; soon, the brothers are at odds and the extent of the Gaia Coalition’s web of lies and the fate of the planet are at stake.

The project’s adherence to the convoluted, geek-friendly detail of the lore may prove both an asset and a liability. Harlock’s adventures hold cultural significance and genre weight and Aramaki knows it; the film could never be accused of not given the fans what they want. But at a cost of US$30million and with James Cameron’s vocal endorsement all over the marketing, this should feel more geared towards the international audience. Ultimately, it sort of is but sort of isn’t; a smart sci-fi effort with cutting-edge tech rendering should play wider than Harlock: Space Pirate ever will. 

Harlock: Space Pirate will be released on DVD/Blu-ray in Australia in March 2014 via Anchor Bay Entertainment.

MANDELA: LONG WALK TO FREEDOM

Stars: Idris Elba, Naomie Harris, Tony Kgorge, Riaad Moosa, Jamie Bartlett, Terry Pheto, Gys de Villiers and Robert Hobbs.
Writer: William Nicholson; based upon an autobiography by Nelson Mandela.
Director: Justin Chadwick.

Rating: 4/5

Justin Chadwick’s biopic of the great man’s life is a well-crafted, largely conventional but no less moving account of an everyman who learnt to deal with the consequences of having greatness thrust upon him.

Chadwick’s background in high-end TV drama serves his latest project well; the airs and graces he attempted with middling success in past big-screen efforts (The Other Boleyn Girl, 2008; The First Grader, 2010; Stolen, 2011) finally find the substance to warrant his style. The UK-born auteur’s command of subtle composition and quietly powerful drama suits Nelson Mandela’s steady climb from idealistic lawyer to iconic freedom fighter.

The ace in this sweeping tale is, of course, Idris Elba in the lead role. Delivering a performance that requires the actor to age from a 30-something firebrand open to the temptations of the flesh above family duties to a noble survivor of cruel imprisonment who would come to represent the hopes of a downtrodden people, Elba delivers fully upon the promise he has exhibited for some time now. Matching his on-screen potency is Naomie Harris as Winnie in a role that has been oddly ignored by the award season predictors; as both the rod that strengthens her husband’s resolve and the burgeoning warrior for her people’s plight, Harris (last seen as Bond’s ballsy offsider in Skyfall) invests wholly in the role.

Chadwick and Elba imbue their Mandela with a richness that honours the living embodiment and a vitality that makes for a compelling screen character. Early scenes that establish him as being at one with his people meld with act two dramatics that see him sacrifice a stable future for the nobility of his beliefs. By the time the stoic, aged activist faces off against the imperilled leaders of a crumbling Apartheid regime, Elba has assumed a gigantic persona and consumes every inch of the widescreen frame.

It is not always an easy task for productions employing the man-vs-myth approach to pull off both aspects with success. Although he accomplished it with skill in Gandhi, Sir Richard Attenborough’s subsequent spins on the lives of Charlie Chaplin, Ernest Hemingway (In Love and War) and Steve Biko (Cry Freedom) are admirable but have not aged well; Spike Lee’s Malcolm X impresses as a cinematic treatment, but seems under-cooked by today’s standards (despite Denzel Washington’s stunning lead performance).

A slightly saggy mid-section means it is not quite the classic biopic treatment that perhaps the late, great man deserved, but Mandela is nevertheless both a stirring tribute and gritty portrayal of a man righting a wrong and influencing a planet in the process. 

WALKING WITH DINOSAURS 3D

Stars: Charlie Rowe, Karl Urban and Angourie Rice.
Featuring the voices of: Justin Long, John Leguizamo, Skyler Stone and Tiya Sircar.
Writer: John Collee.
Directors: Barry Cook and John Nightingale.

Rating: 3/5

Fifteen years after the groundbreaking BBC documentary series became a television phenomenon and in the wake of the arena spectacular that brought the creatures of prehistory to a live audience, the inevitable big-screen brand expansion of the Walking with Dinosaurs property proves to be as slickly-packaged an endeavour as you’d expect from any franchise entrant. That said, extinction for this mighty marketing behemoth feels a little bit closer.

The co-directing mash-up of animation savvy Barry Cook (Mulan; Arthur Christmas) and wildlife doco maestro John Nightingale (producer of the recent theatrical release, One Life) is understandable; each brings the prerequisite skills needed to nail both the emotional and natural realism asked of by the story. They stick very close to the visual aesthetics that proved so successful on the smallscreen; state-of-the-art effects propel the audience into the late Cretaceous period, specifically to within a Pachyrinosaurus herd and their hatchlings as they enjoy an Alaskan spring.

Also held over from the 1999 series is an educational element; as each dinosaur appears, the frame will freeze and a child-like voiceover will give the scientific name, its English translation and its dietary requirements.

Where the film will most wilfully divide impatient parents and their pre-teen company is in the decision to anthropomorphize the lead characters with tart, mall-teen attitudes in the service of a rickety first love/boy-to-man plot. Our protagonist, ‘Patchy’, is voiced by Justin Long with that wide-eyed, ‘golly gee!’ cadence personified by stock Mouse House characters. It is not the only similarity to the Disney oeuvre: many elements recall the studio’s own Dinosaur (not to mention the Land Before Time animated series) and the films narrator, Alex (voiced by John Leguizamo), a wise and witty overseer and feathered friend to Patchy, is clearly modelled upon Rowan Atkinson’s Zazu from The Lion King.

The ultra-realism of the beasts and their surrounds are done a disservice by the ‘Saturday-morning cartoon’ dialogue from the usually reliable John Collee (Happy Feet; Master and Commander). One can envision a version from which the dialogue is removed entirely and fresh narration recorded to accompany the journey of the main characters, with far greater emotional impact. The prehistoric-set narrative is bookended by scenes between a paleontologist (Karl Urban) and his surly teen nephew (Charlie Rowe) that are designed to enhance the ‘personal growth’ subtext but seem throwaway.

Reservations aside, the beautiful widescreen cinematography (landscape footage was shot in Alaska and New Zealand) by first-timer John Brooks melds seamlessly with the pixel-perfect creations of Australian effects house Animal Logic and proves sufficiently captivating in spite of the blah storytelling. Our fascination with the thunder lizards of yore has never waned, which should ensure this spectacle, however undercooked narratively, is a big hit with family audiences.

ANCHORMAN 2: THE LEGEND CONTINUES

Stars: Will Ferrell, Paul Rudd, Steve Carell, David Koechner, Christina Applegate, Meagan Good, Josh Lawson, James Marsden, Dylan Baker, Greg Kinnear, Kristen Wiig and Harrison Ford.
Writers: Will Ferrell and Adam McKay.
Director: Adam McKay.

Rating: 2.5/5

Will Ferrell’s maroon-hued egomaniac, legendary newsman Ron Burgundy finds nirvana in the early days of the 24-hour news cycle in Adam McKay’s loose-limbed, indulgent sequel. The ensemble seems to be having fun and there are some scattered belly laughs, but the truly inspired nuttiness that made the first Anchorman a cult hit is in short order.

Burgundy has shifted his base from San Diego to New York, where he has established a successful on-air partnership with his wife, Veronica (Christina Applegate). When she is offered the prime time gig to which he felt entitled, Ron descends into a deep depression, hitting rock bottom as a foul-mouthed announcer at SeaWorld. These early scenes are well paced (and feature a fun cameo from Harrison Ford) but don’t strongly establish an inspired reason to revisit Burgundy’s world.

That reason finally manifests in the form of the Global News Network, a soon-to-launch network financed by Aussie millionaire Kench Allenby (Josh Lawson) and headed by strong-willed Linda Jackson (Meaghan Good). Despite his fall from grace, Burgundy is (rather implausibly) given free rein to bring back his old crew – boisterous sports guy Champ Kind (David Koechner), reporter Brian Fantana (Paul Rudd) and knuckle-headed weatherman Brick Tamland (Steve Carell).

The overriding gag is that Burgundy’s ‘lowest common denominator’ approach to broadcasting gave birth to the ‘news-as-entertainment’ era; when Burgundy utters, “Why do we have to give people what they need and not what they want?,” dollar signs register with the new network. It is the sequel’s only meaningful attempt at thoughtful satire; in all other regards, McKay and Ferrell’s script is utterly reliant upon puerile silliness and the improvisational skills of its cast.

The best bits are between Carell and guest star Kristen Wiig as like-minded dimwits who fall in love; Rudd has some moments, but Koechner is background noise and Applegate, Greg Kinnear (as Veronica’s new man) and James Marsden (as Ron’s rival) are relegated to bit player contributions. Most troubling is Ferrell’s energy in the lead role. He is older (and looks it) and struggles to recapture the youthful brashness he brought to the part almost 10 years ago. Burgundy 2013 doesn’t inspire laughs as much as he does pity, the casual misogyny and racism that suited the first film’s tone now appearing boorish and outdated.

Anchorman 2 eventually finds a kind of Python-esque craziness in the final third, when disparate elements such as temporary blindness, a great white shark pup and a ‘white bronco’ police chase factor into the denouement. The best reason to see the film is a nonsensical but hilarious sequence that has Ron and his posse facing off against newsmen from the cable network channels. It could be the greatest sequence of cameos in film history and is presented with such fresh vigour that it feels like the inspiration for the entire project.

BIG ASS SPIDER!

Stars: Greg Grunberg, Ray Wise, Lombardo Boyar, Clare Kramer, Lin Shaye, Patrick Bauchau, Ruben Pla, Bob Bledsoe and Alexis Peters.
Writer: Gregory Gieras.
Director: Mike Mendez.

Rating: 3/5

The most pressing mental involvement that Mike Mendez’s silly, scary guilty pleasure requires is – where does one place the inflection? Is it Big ASS Spider (maybe, cos’ it’s got a huge opisthosoma)? Or is it BIG Ass Spider (as in a big spider that lives in…ugh, that’s disgusting)?

Though easily shoehorned into the current craze for D-grade schlock such as Pirahnaconda and Sharknado, Big Ass Spider! exhibits smarter comedic chops and slicker production values that place it above such self-conscious efforts, rightfully earning it critical warmth and audience affection.

The film opens with a striking slow motion piece in which our hero, schlubby pest-control guy Alex Mathis (Greg Grunberg), awakens amidst a scene of urban havoc. Audiences are introduced to the titular star as it scales a downtown skyscraper, Kong-style, before the inevitable ’12 hours earlier’ graphic brings us back to the beginning of the hero’s journey (a funny sequence involving the great Lin Shaye).

Most of the film’s first half is confined to a hospital set, where Mathis is being treated for (you guessed it) a spider bite. In the building’s morgue (lit in typically B-movie dark and creepy shadows), a corpse has been delivered with an unwanted eight-legged passenger that makes short work of a coroner and escapes into the airducts. These scenes play well with horror buffs, riffing inventively on key moments in such genre staples as John Carpenter’s The Thing and Ridley Scott’s Alien.

The military descends, led by Major Braxton Tanner (Ray Wise, stoic and dependable) and Lt Karly Brant (Clare Kramer) and, with Alex and his new offsider, hospital security guy Jose (a scene-stealing Lombardo Boyar) in tow, set about securing downtown LA and stopping the B.A.S.

TV veteran Mendez and writer Gregory Gieras (returning to the sub-genre of ‘Exclamation Mark Cinema’ seven years after Centipede!) find a fun balance between comedy and horror. Grunberg (an experienced support player, best known for long stints on the TV series Heroes, Alias and Felicity) is in sync with his director’s vision and makes for an engaging leading man. A couple of gruesome moments (notably, a Raiders…-style face melt and the giant spider’s first big rampage, through picnickers in Elysian Park) bring what is essentially a homage to 50’s era ‘big bug’ pics into the modern film realm.

Perhaps deliberately, special effects waiver between terrific (the spider’s perch atop the crumbling tower is definitely the money-shot) and a bit wobbly (web imagery proves a problem). But all are proficiently staged and in line with the knowing but respectful self-parodying tone that the production wants to convey.

HOMEFRONT

Stars: Jason Statham, James Franco, Winona Ryder, Kate Bosworth, Izabela Vidovic, Clancy Brown, Rachel Lefevre, Marcus Hester, Omar Benson Miller and Frank Grillo.
Writer: Sylvester Stallone; based upon the novel by Chuck Logan.
Director: Gary Fleder

Rating: 3/5

The biggest risk that the producers of Homefront take is in the casting of a non-American lead in what is very definitely a down home, gun-&-family, flag-wavin’ action opus. Any doubt that the production was squarely aimed at that demographic is dispelled with one glance at the US one-sheet, in which Brit tough-guy Jason Satham wears a Toby Keith-esque Stars’n’Stripes shirt - the likes of which never appears in the film.

Journeyman director Gary Fleder’s slick vision of Sylvester Stallone’s script is a flyover-state fantasy, in which a man of honour, ex-undercover narc Phil Broker (Statham, dependably stoic) must rebuild a life a with his too-cute daughter, Maddy (a terrific Izabela Vidovic) after a biker gang drug-ring sting goes bad.

One of only a handful of surprises in the mix is the name cast in showy but decidedly supporting roles. Winona Ryder getting all skanky as an aging middle-woman under pressure; a skeletal Kate Bosworth, compelling as a fired-up addict who clashes with Broker; and, above all others, A-lister James Franco as ‘Gator, the small-time Louisiana meth dealer who uncovers Broker’s true identity and brings bloody vengeance into the new life that the ex-DEA agent has made for himself.  

Franco’s casting is not by chance. The ultra left-leaning real-life antics of the star, along with the hillbilly scourge that is the meth epidemic and the lawlessness perpetrated by leather-clad organised crime, are the most frightening threats to an American ideal still clung to by the Red Staters who will buy into this old-school action set-up.

This America is the America of Western mythology, existing beyond traditional justice (Clancy Brown’s posturing sheriff is an ineffectual buffoon), in which a lone gunfighter (or, in Statham’s case, martial-arts maestro) stands up for all that is honourable. Archetypes that populated the dusty prairie town’s of old Hollywood are everywhere, from Rachel Lefevre’s sweet school marm to Omar Benson Miller’s upstanding best buddy (tellingly, the film’s only African American cast member) and Frank Grillo’s seething and sweaty killing machine.

So anachronistic is much of Fleder’s film, it comes as no surprise when Franco’s Gator, having broken into Broker’s home, finds all he needs to know about the man’s past by rummaging through some boxes in the basement. Why Broker would have his old files lying around after having been relocated or why they exist in hard form at all, and not on a hard drive in Washington, is never explained.

But, if one is able to cast aside such cynicism, Homefront is a film that understands its audience with a precise, non-condescending clarity. Affection for the macho action-man genre is Sylvester Stallone’s stock-in-trade as a storyteller (few films have delivered for the fans like his 2008 Rambo redux). Despite crafting this as a vehicle for his own on-screen talents, passing the reins to his Expendables co-star was the right move; Statham is no De Niro, but he nails the nuances and motivations of a man like Broker with skill and confidence.  

Along with top-notch production values (particularly the widescreen lensing of the stunning bayou vistas by Theo van de Sande), Homefront provides a solid, well-structured and exciting diversion. 

ERNEST AND CELESTINE

Featuring the voices of: Lambert Wilson, Pauline Brunner, Anne-Marie Loop, Patrice Melennec and Brigitte Virtudes.
Writer: Daniel Pennac.
Directors: Benjamin Renner, Vincent Patar and Stephane Aubier.

Rating: 4/5

The late Belgian author Gabrielle Vincent’s books about the unlikely friendship between a sweet-natured mouse named Celestine and grumpy, ne’er-do-well bear named Ernest came to magical life on the page and find a similar passion via water-coloured textures and warm-hearted fullness in this highly-anticipated film adaptation.

A triumvirate of directors (Benjamin Renner, Vincent Patar, Stephane Aubier) make full use of the imaginative treatment afforded Vincent’s much-loved works by scriptwriter Daniel Pennac, who has taken elements from several tomes to create an original narrative created in the spirit of the books.

A captivating opening sequence set in a boarding house for mice in training to be dental assistants (teeth are currency in the underground world of the mouse colony) outlines the relationship between the subterranean rodent population and the brutish, above-ground world of the bears. Despite being taught that never the twain shall meet, Celestine (voiced by Pauline Brunner) dreams of a world where each exist in harmony.

Starving after having been woken from hibernation by robins and snowflakes, Ernest (veteran leading man Lambert Wilson) stumbles across Celestine, who has been trapped in a garbage can after a night raid to collect teeth went wrong. Predator and prey come face-to-face, only to strike up an ‘odd couple’ partnership and undertake an adventure that pits them against the prejudices that have kept the species apart.

The pairing grows in depth over a series of episodic misadventures, although it is the dialogue shared in the quieter moments and the superbly-timed character interaction that gives the film its resonance, far more so than the sometimes extravagantly staged schtick. The animation technique is particularly effective in conveying both the beauty of the landscape and the inner self of key characters; tight close-ups reveal the kind of emotional meaning in the slightest of facial movements that the most experienced of live-action actors would struggle with.

Despite a decided lack of bold primary colours, the likes of which mainstream audiences feed on in an animation era ruled by the CGI divisions of major studios, Ernest and Celestine provides a sweetly subtle alternative to the barrage of manipulative emotional cues usually called upon in this modern age. It is a beautiful work (that will play just as well whether sub-titled or dubbed), effortlessly engaging the hearts and minds of young and old alike.   

DOGGIEWOGGIEZ! POOCHIEWOOCHIEZ!

Directors: Commodore Gilgamesh and Ghould Skool.

Rating: 4.5/5

As difficult as it is to interpret surrealist iconoclast Alejandro Jodorowsky’s 1973 freak-out The Holy Mountain, it is a walk in the park when compared to the bizarre, often hilarious vid-clip montage homage, Doggiewoogiez! Poochiewoochiez!.

The third feature from avant-garde American ‘comedic imagists’ Everything is Terrible! (EiT), this re-envisioning of the Chilean maestro’s filmic dreamscape consists entirely of dog footage compiled from hours of films featuring man’s best friend (including Man’s Best Friend, a 1993 sci-fi thriller starring Lance Henriksen).

Detractors will see nothing more than a gimmicky gag, but directors Commodore Gilgamesh and Ghoul Skool exhibit an extraordinary command of their craft. Having combed hundreds of hours of film (including 90’s cop/dog ‘classics’ K-9 and Turner and Hooch; Jon Voigt’s career lowpoint, The Karate Dog; Tim Allen’s The Shaggy DA and director Pier Paolo Passolini’s Salo, too name a few), documentaries (Australian audiences will recognize entertainer Su Cruikshank’s appearance from Mark Lewis’ 1990 film, The Wonderful World of Dogs) and television (Punky Brewster moppet Amy Foster sings with a puppy puppet in an excrutiating sequence), the EiT team then split-screen, white-noise, over-expose, photo-shop and re-dub much of the content to mimic Jodorowsky’s non-linear framework and reinterpret the spiritual core of his film.

It is a bold endeavour that is uproariously funny, but it also addresses the very nature of the centuries-old relationship between the human race and the canine world. There is an underlying thematic line that draws comparison between the bestial essence of dogs (a joyous embrace of a life spent eating, sleeping, shitting and fornicating) and how that appeals to mankind, a race that has used its intelligence to over-complicate is existence. It suggests that the bond we share with dogs symbolises our longing to live the purest of lives, however dark and difficult that may be at times (and Doggiewoggiez… does get very warped and weird on more than one occasion).

It is also fascinating to so deeply ponder the message of a film that uses some of the most ridiculous pop-culture moments ever mined from the VHS boom period. Gilgamesh and Skool (apparently, not their real names) find substance and new meaning in some of the most embarrassingly awful film content of the last three decades. Like fellow contemporary ‘junk artists’ such as trash-sculptor HA Schult and garbage-dump visionary Vik Muniz (subject of the film, Wasteland), EiT craft an artistic message made from, in this case, the dire remnants of lowbrow video inanity.    

It is a terrible shame that such intellectualising will be too great a stretch for some, who will find the film too indulgent and incomprehensible (even over its scant 55 minute running time). The Everything is Terrible! unit are masters of video-image artistry and Doggiewoogiez! Poochiewoochiez! is a thrilling work that bridges the gap; not only between baffling gallery installation and cinematic giggle, but mankind and his most faithful companion. I think Jodorowsky would have loved it.

Doggiewoggiez! Poochiewoochiez! will be presented by The Golden Age Cinema in Sydney as a one-off Special Event screening at 6.00pm on January 12. Tickets are available at the website.

FALLOUT

Director: Lawrence Johnston

Rating: 2.5/5

Director Lawrence Johnston strives to bridge the tactical genocide of the Japanese population with the impact of a film production upon Victoria’s capital in Fallout, the source novel ‘On The Beach’ by Nevil Shute acting as the thematic anchor in this interesting if flawed work.

As a biography of the British author, whose works include A Town Like Alice and The Far Country, within the context of the shifting global landscape circa-1940s, it is a well-researched collection of clips, talking heads and background music. The omni-presence of journalist/author Gideon Haigh casts a long shadow over the film’s first half, his earnest and well-recited straight-to-camera narration both an asset and a liability.

With Shute’s daughter and some Nuclear Proliferation 101 lessons providing the only counter points over the first 40 minutes, Johnston’s work comes across as a little stiff. A history lesson that endeavours to paint a portrait of the geo-political landscape, engineering background and human cost that inspired Shute, there is a lot of familiar stuff here; unlike Johnston’s past works, the visually splendid Eternity (1994) and Night (2008), his eye here is static, his palette blah.

Suggesting that this 90 minute effort will play better as a government-broadcaster free-to-air two-parter, the second half refocusses upon Stanley Kramer’s Melbourne–based shoot for his 1959 adaptation of Shute’s blockbuster bestseller. The author’s point-of-view all but disappears from the film, with Johnston instead addressing the impact of A-listers Gregory Peck, Ava Gardner, Fred Astaire and Anthony Perkins upon this colonial outpost. The only surviving principal, starlet Donna Anderson, offers pertinent insight.

For film buffs, the recounting of one of Hollywood’s most high-profile off-shore shoots is a joy. Archive interviews with Kramer put the importance of his project into perspective against the fear of nuclear war, but never at the expense of a b&w still from the set or a little salicious slice of production gossip. When the film does re-invest in Shute’s opinion, it is with regard to his thoughts on how his novel’s chaste protagonists become overtly implied lovers; like the rest of Johnston’s film (and, apparently, Australian society of the day), the studio behemouth becomes the focus of everyone’s attention.

The upshot is that it is never quite clear what story Johnston is trying to tell with his film. There is an abundance of clarity in his facts, but their relation to each other in anything other than the most perfunctory of ways remains elusive. Fallout will play well as a tertiary education study guide, but falls short as a theatrically worthy work.