The Australian film industry had more or
less ground to a halt by the 1960s, but a pair of remarkable premieres at
Cannes in 1971 helped spark what would become known as the Australian New Wave.
Both were helmed by foreign directors, though they were Australian productions
and told what were very much Australian stories, using the phantasmagorical
desolation of the Outback to depict the frailty of civilization when confronted
with barbarism and impulses older than memory. One of those films, Walkabout, has been widely seen, dubbed
a masterpiece, and written about in these pages not so long ago. The other, Wake in Fright, is far too little seen,
was long considered lost, but has recently been restored and re-released.
Based
on Kenneth Cook’s eponymous 1961 novel, the film stays close to its
protagonist, a handsome, big city, middle-class, casually snotty educator stuck
teaching grade school in some impossibly remote village dubbed Tiboonda, a place
with a bar no one goes to and a train station comprised of a platform slightly larger than a diving board. John
(Gary Bond) has plans to visit Sidney during school holidays, but a stopover in
the mining town of Bundanyabba gradually and insidiously thwarts his
trajectory. The aggressively friendly locals ply him with beer until his
overstated contempt for them and their uncultured lifestyle is softened, and
soon John is gambling away his earnings in some rowdy backroom game that
involves nothing more than tossing coins, is waking in strange places (with a sinisterly
charming Donald Pleasance), and going on horrific hunting trips in which
kangaroos are slaughtered, their carcasses left to rot. John is initially
repulsed, but something in him responds to all this, something drawn to
oblivion, longing for permission to destroy without discretion. A local cop
(legendary Aussie actor Chips Rafferty, in his final screen appearance) brags
of Bundanyabba’s low crime rate, but notes that the town does have its share of
suicides.
Elements
of Wake in Fright recall the stories
of Paul Bowles, or films like Woman in
the Dunes (1964), but a key difference here is that the world that appears
to be swallowing up our hero isn’t one of ancient ritual, unbreachable cultural
difference or obscure, conspiratorial strategy; it is, rather, a sort of
post-colonial hell, a chaotic cesspool of white male-dominated debauchery and
corruption. No doubt the film was not popular within the Australian tourism
board. Toronto-born director Ted Kotcheff would go on to make First Blood (1982) and Uncommon Valor (1983), perhaps because
it was not difficult to sense in him a facility with tales of men in need of
excuses to become animals. And I should emphasize the word “men” here, because Wake in Fright is nearly devoid of
women, and the one woman that does appear (played by Sylvia Kay, Kotcheff’s
spouse at the time) seems traumatized, cloistered and abused, accustomed to
sexual assault as a sort of local pastime.
I suppose all of
this reads as unremittingly dark, yet Wake
in Fright takes some surprising turns and is interested in more than mere
entropy. Call it a cautionary tale of sorts, and a great film about a time and
a place and the dangers of classist arrogance. See it.
1 comment:
Hi there, just read this post - great. FYI we have a stage adaption of the book opening at our theatre in Melbourne this week. July 10 - 28 2013 http://lamama.com.au/autumn-2013/wake-in-fright/
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