Research Essay - Dynamics of Mateship

             According to Brian McFarlane, “The sentimental ideal of mateship may well be Australia’s chief contribution to the history of human relationships” (McFarlane, p. 62).  Mateship depicts a code of equality, solidarity and friendship – usually amongst males.  Mateship is a prominent concept in the way Australian’s think of themselves.  This concept is weighed very heavily not only in terms of Australian culture, but especially Australian cinema.  In James Page’s article, Is Mateship a Virtue?, he proposes, “The phenomenon of mateship is often claimed within public discourse to be a defining characteristic of what it means to be Australian” (Page 2002, p. 193). So what exactly does mateship entail?  Page goes on to further state, “Mateship involves a state of being.  Mateship involves action or at least a willingness to be committed to action.  A mate is prepared to do things with and for certain others (mates).  Additionally, mateship involves an affective element of solidarity.  Mateship implies a certain bond or feeling of oneness which is felt with and for others” (Page 2002, p. 194). 

                Mateship cannot fully be understood unless it is looked at from the prospective of Australia’s myth of national identity as a whole.  Mateship is not necessarily unique to Australia; however, it is an important aspect of their nationalism.  Mateship became important in early colonial times because the harsh environment meant sticking together was essential for survival (Lovett 2007).  The importance of mateship further emerged after World War I, which includes Gallipoli.  In 1915, Australian troops landed at Gallipoli, cementing themselves into what was to become the ultimate Australian legend.  Australia was a fledgling nation at the beginning of World War I, but emerged from it with newborn pride and a burning sense of national identity spawned by the year’s hardship and of eight months of continuous warfare in Gallipoli.  The military defeat created an ironically celebrated notion, the Anzac spirit of mateship, courage, bravery and sacrifice which extends beyond mere comradeship.   The intensity of the spirit was such that its significance not only encompassed Gallipoli, but extended to more recent times as well.  The Anzac spirit was forged by the men at Gallipoli, peaking in a display of heroism and unity at the Battle of the Nek in 1915 (Australian Government, 2010).  It was rekindled by future generations in the battlefield by the soldiers at the Kokoda Trail during World War II.  The Anzac legend is still considered to be a key foundational narrative in terms of Australia’s national identity, and these values it entails dominate Australian cinema.

An important aspect of having a film industry is that it allows a very powerful medium (film) to reflect back on and present images of their country’s values and origins.  Many films help to define the national identity and values of Australians to the rest of the world by encompassing the Anzac spirit and focusing on its specific ideals such as mateship (Freebury 1987, p. 16-18). The exclusive nature of the concept of mateship can best be demonstrated in film from the perspective of the adversity and experience of war.  Gallipoli and Kokoda are two highly comparable Australian war films that embody the idea of mateship at their core as part of Australian identity. 

Based on the historical battle against Turkish trenches in 1915, Peter Weir’s film Gallipoli not only captures the tragedy of war, but is also a story of mateship, courage and bravery of those who fell in the battle, and those who felt pain by their fall.  It is a coming of age story of a young nation.  The portrayal of Australia’s emerging nationhood is humanized with the focus on two young and inexperienced protagonists, Archy Hamilton and Frank Dunne.  A series of shared events throughout the film bond these two boys powerfully, and by the time they hit the trenches of Gallipoli, they have become best mates.  Gallipoli is a true representation of what mateship means to Australia.  In Jane Freebury’s article, Screening Australia: Gallipoli – a study of nationalism on film, she does not fail to mention, “For Australians, Gallipoli reads ‘This is Australia.’ It projects the national identity” (Freebury 1987, p. 17).  As mentioned earlier, mateship is a key concept of national identity.

Although Archy and Frank are two inherently different characters, the journey they share achieves a growth of feeling between the two.   These two Australian’s have two very different views on war and made a friendship from it, and this friendship grew throughout the movie.  Frank, the city slicker, and Archy, the country boy, began with many social barriers which were slowly broken down as the need for each other began to escalate.  Their only real commonality is that they are both runners and this serves as a motif throughout the film.  Mateship is captured in the film throughout many different scenes.  One in particular expresses mateship to a point of borderline homosexuality.  The two mates race to the pyramid, carve their names into the stone, and shake hands as the sun sets.  The depiction of the race to the pyramids symbolized the bond between these two people and further displayed why they became so close. 

The final scene is what really hits home to the concept of mateship and was by far the most powerful.  Earlier I discussed how Page states, “A mate is prepared to do things with and for certain others.”  Loyalty and selflessness are qualities that arise out of mateship.  These qualities are shared between these two characters and portray what the true meaning of mateship means.  Archy willingly switches roles with Frank and takes Frank’s place at the trenches, allowing Frank to be the runner (messenger).  “In Australia, a ‘mate’ is more than just a friend. It’s a term that implies a sense of shared experience, mutual respect and unconditional assistance” (Australian Government, 2007).   The obvious respect and unconditional assistance these two share for each other is clearly evident in this last scene.

The final minutes of the film contains dramatic back and forth scenes between Archy and Frank as Archy scrambles out of his trench, in the last sprint of his life, and Frank sprints to the front trying to save the life of his best mate.  Archy’s death comes so suddenly and unnecessarily that we feel the blow as harshly as the Turkish rounds ripping into his chest in the final still frame.  This scene symbolizes how mateship and bravery are embedded into Gallipoli and how they intertwine to give Australia its national identity.  In an article by Neil Rattigan, he describes Archy’s death as, “he makes the ‘ultimate sacrifice’.  His death is the death of the mythically true Australians” (Rattigan 1991, p. 135-138).

Moving from World War I to World War II, Kokoda, directed by Alister Grierson, is a very similar war movie yet it involves the mateship between a group of soldiers, rather than just two individuals.  Both Gallipoli and Kokoda focused on the strong bond between youthful and innocent men who are on the brink of manhood, a status that will only be achieved by facing heroic challenges.   The film follows the fortune of a young Australian, Jack, and his band of inexperienced soldiers as they battle through the jungle of Papua New Guinea to protect the village of Isurava on the Kokoda track.  Once a Japanese assault is confirmed, Jack’s platoon is dispatched and soon cut off from supply lines.  Stalked by an enemy that’s never clearly seen, the squad is reduced in number from ten to ultimately three.   In order to make it through the most unforgiving terrain to get to safety, allegiances form and strengths and weaknesses emerge as the going continues to get tougher. 

Once again, mateship is seen throughout the entirety of the film.  Kokoda is said to have rekindled the Anzac myth and helped turn around the nation’s attitude towards war.  With this being said, like Gallipoli, it embodies the values of the Anzac myth such as mateship sacrifice, bravery and endurance.  Earlier, I mentioned that Page describes mateship as, “a certain bond or feeling of oneness which is felt with and for others.”  This idea encompasses the movie’s attitude as a whole.  As the soldiers in Jack’s platoon were slowly dying off, whether it be from battle or disease, they had to stick together as a team in order to survive.  

The times of adversity bring out a person’s true character.  In one particular scene, Max (Jack’s brother and one of the five remaining men of Jack’s platoon) was shot in the stomach.  The men refused to leave him behind, and instead carried him through the rough terrain until they found a hut to keep him safe.  This platoon was a team and they relied on each other.  The bond they shared was one that represented them as a whole.  If one man fell, they would do everything in their power as a group to keep him going.  This also displays the durability of the connection between the men at war.  This tight knit group represents a cement like bond, advancing through the adversity that is thrown their way.  The text equally depicts the greatness of mateship and how the importance placed on it, is increased when placed under the threat of losing a mate, which could happen at any time during the film.

This film is different than Gallipoli in that, in a way it challenges the idea of mateship in war.  In Kokoda there were two types of Australian soldiers: the AIF, who were the trained soldiers, and the other type who were scornfully referred to as “chocos” by the enlisted men – “chocolate soldiers who would melt in the heat of battle” (Kokoda, 2006).  These two groups of soldiers did not get along with each other due to the fact that the AIF looked down upon the “chocos”.  However, a quote from the Australian Government website in reference mateship defined through the experience of warfare states, “In the [Japanese POW] camps the Australians discarded their differences and became a tribe, a tribe which was always the most successful group.  The core of this success was an ethos of mateship and egalitarianism which not only survived the ultimate dehumanizing duress of the death camps, but shone through as the dominant Australian characteristic.  Mateship between soldiers helped define their manhood, and in turn, this helped define Australia as a nation” (Australian Government, 2007).  This is ultimately what happened in the final minutes of the film.  The “chocos” earned the respect of the AIF by uncommon courage and determination, by staying on to fight along side the AIF, even after their relief arrived.  Mateship was looked at in a whole new light during this scene.  It brought together the true meaning of Australia’s nationalism.  The soldiers pride in who they were, and their love for their country exploded on the screen and left the viewer with a clear idea about what it meant to be an Australian, not an AIF or “chocos” during the war. 

Mateship definitely has strong military resonances.  Even though I’ve been talking about Kokoda as the film, the actual war memorial in Papua New Guinea commemorates the Kokoda Track.  In remembrance of this bitter fight between the Japanese and Australians a memorial is set up with the words courage, mateship, endurance and sacrifice are inscribed on its pillars (Bird, 2002).

                Both films, Gallipoli and Kokoda, helped to define the national identity of Australia to the rest of the world by focusing on nationalism, bravery, and mateship.   Mateship is a uniquely Australian bond.  It gave our country its identity, forged in the furnace of war.  It is an integral part of Australian culture and its importance can be found wherever you look.  In Freebury’s article, she also states, “Gallipoli is not much about Australian in war as it is a celebration of the national ideology.  It is largely about what is intrinsically Australian – mateship, endurance, the outback, and a nationalistic belief in an as yet unrealized potential – sacrificed to an alien cause” (Freebury 1987, p. 17).  I completely agree with this quote and I believe it is representative of not only Gallipoli, but also Kokoda.  These two films deepen our understanding of the mateship between men.  As the viewer in these films, I appreciated the power that mateship holds in Australia’s culture.  It has enlightened me on what a true mate is, and depicted the strength of such a bond. 

Bibliography:

Australian Government 2007 ‘Mateship, diggers and wartime’. Web. 25 May 2011

http://australia.gov.au/about-australia/australian-story/mateship-diggers-and-wartime

Australian Government 2010 ‘Gallipoli and the Anzacs’ Department of Veterans’ Affairs. Web. 25 May 2011 http://www.anzacsite.gov.au/

Bird, A 2002 ‘Kokoda’s heroes return’ Army The Soldiers Newspaper. Web 27 May 2011

http://www.defence.gov.au/news/armynews/editions/1058/story07.htm

Freebury, J 1987 ‘Screening Australia: ‘Gallipoli – a study of nationalism on film’ Media Information Australia, pp. 16-18.

Lovett, T 2007 ‘Mateship as an Australian Value’ The Epoch Times. Web. 28 May 2011.

http://en.epochtimes.com/news/7-1-23/50826.html

McFarlane, B ‘Ch. 4: Mates and others in a wide brown land: images in Australia’ Australian Cinema 1970-1985, pp 62.

Page, S 2002 ‘Is Mateship a virtue?’ Australian Journal of Social Issues. P. 193-195. Web. 28 May 2011.

http://eprints.qut.edu.au/3567/1/3567_1.pdf

Rattigan, N 1991 ‘Gallipoli’ Images of Australia, pp 135-138

Filmography:

Gallipoli (Peter Weir, 1915)

Kokoda (Alister Grierson, 2006)

Comparative Analysis

The film industry is constantly changing and growing.  For example, the bushrangers have become more urban and their crime more intense because film is focusing more on suburban working class lifestyles rather than the outback (Simpson, 1999: 24). Animal Kingdom and American Gangster are two different, yet similar films, and both are within the genre of crime.  Being that American Gangster is not an Australian film, but rather an American film, it is interesting to observe the difference between these two films and what specifically makes Animal Kingdom Australian.

                David Michod’s film, Animal Kingdom, brings the viewer to a suburban dwelling that focuses on the Cody family; a criminal family caught up in drug dealing, robbery, and possibly even murder, with the prime matriarch of the family being the mother, Janine.  Janine is still taking care of her three sons (terrifying sociopath Pope, cowardly Darren, erratic drug addict Craig) when she adds her grandson Josh or “J” to her family. “J” joins the family as a result of his mother’s overdose. Interestingly, the alpha male does not lie within the family, but instead is the close family friend, Barry Brown.  All these men are engaged in different criminal activities and with J entering the family; it’s difficult to not get sucked in.   J is the weak member of the group, and as Leckie (the detective) states, “You may think that, because of the circles you move in or whatever, that you’re one of the strong creatures, but you’re not”, and we all know, especially in suburbs like these, only the strong survive (Animal Kingdom).

                American Gangster, by Ridley Scott, portrays the life of an American drug lord, Frank Lucus, who takes great pride in his scams, and proudly boasts about the murders that he committed. At the same time, Frank brings to the viewer’s attention the real wholesale corruption that took place in a time of great national turmoil.  Frank brings his family into the drug operation to help his empire grow and they become a family full of corruption and demise.  The other key character, relentlessly honest Richie Roberts, is a New York police officer who is driven and determined to find the mastermind who is smuggling heroin in from Vietnam.

                Exactly what defines the Australian crime genre?  This is an issue that has been discussed by many Australian critics and writers over the years.  After further analysis of Edgar Allan Poe’s original three person model of crime  (Criminal, Detective, and Victim), the relationships that each of these characters share effects their roles in the film and can make the connection between two, more or less important than the third.  “This double focus is important because of a common tendency to equate crime with the gangster film,” (Moran and Vieth, 2006: 145).  Many authors took this viewpoint and inevitably acquired this understanding of the gangster film as being intrinsically American; however, this is a false ideology and looking at the crime genre as a whole through this prospective is not useful when it comes to considering crime outside of American film.  Instead, it is important that we realize there were many films in the genre of crime before we began the glorification of the American gangster in early, Prohibition-era films.  Further, this brings up the main idea of how to look at Australian crime, which is not as a genre as a whole, but instead as “a series of different subtypes that vary, parallel, repeat and even discard different elements to be found in the genre as a whole,” due to the crime and criminal relationship of the film. (Moran and Vieth, 2006: 146).

                Both Animal Kingdom and American Gangster can be considered gangster films; however, Animal Kingdom embodies some of the key ideas of an Australian crime film in a way that American Gangster does not.  In Animal Kingdom, the relationship the Cody brothers, specifically Pope (Criminal), and “J” (Victim) build throughout the film is a dynamic one that inevitably leads to the complete destruction of the Cody family.  “J” makes the most interesting dramatic device for observing this family. One sees things through his eyes; how people only gradually show their true colors and how trust can be lost in an instant.  The teen realizes survival of the fittest is no game; it’s a way of life, and eventually death, as he takes the life of his uncle Pope in the final scene of the film.  Detective Leckie (Detective) tries to give “J” a way out, but the relationship between “J” and Pope is of such intensity, Leckie becomes of little importance and “J” takes things into his own hands.

As stated before, the relationship between the crime and criminal is important in distinguishing subgenres. Throughout the entirety of the film, crime is occurring in all sorts of demeanors by “J”’s gangster uncles which allows the movie to fit into different subgenres such as Theft as Business (Barry and Pope rob banks), or Fugitive (Pope being on the run from the law).  However, the final crime is what flips the movie around and gives it a final subgenre of crime.  The victim, “J”, now becomes the criminal and the death of Pope is his crime.  “The motivation is to seek to turn the tables on others, to outwit and outdo those in authority and in control, to administer a kind of rough justice” is how one describes the subgenre of Robbery as Fun (Moran and Vieth, 2006: 147).  I did not take this subgenre’s title in a literal meaning, but instead took a deeper analysis of its actual definition.  After the death of Barry, Pope takes control of the family and tries to become the alpha male.  “J” killing Pope, or as I looked at it ‘robbing his life’, signifies his ability to gain justice and overcome those who believed they were more powerful than him. 

American Gangster can be looked at as the ‘classic’ gangster film that uses a rebellious figure of the criminal and the hierarchical structure of the criminal organization both to challenge and to ironize capitalism and the business ethic. It encompasses many of the ideas that were originally thought of as a gangster film, before authors such as Neale pointed out a deeper understanding of what a crime film entails.  American Gangster does not portray a distinguishable relationship between its characters in the way that Animal Kingdom does.  Frank is looked at as a loner in the film, not forming any kind of special bond or relationship with either his Victims (all of America) or Detective (Richie) to influence the film in one way or another.  American Gangster instead just exposes the mythologized gangster that Hollywood, not Australia, has become known for.

Animal Kingdom. David Michod. Film. 2010.

‘Crime’ in Moran and Veith, Film in Australia: An Introduction, Cambridge University Press, p. 73-86

Simpson, Catherine (1999) ‘Suburban Subversions; Women’s Negotiation of Space in Contemporary Australian Cinema’, in Metro Magazine #1 18, 24-32

Sequence Analysis

                The first 10 minutes of Mad Max presents some of the hardest evidence in film concerning character, setting and plot compacted into sheer spectacle.  This can further be cut down to the final 3 minutes of this opening scene.  The scene that I am analyzing is one of great intensity, and one of the most breath taking car chases in the film.  It begins with The Nightrider, in a stolen interceptor, being chased down by 5 MFP (Main Force Patrol), two in each car and one on a motorcycle.  After nearly slaughtering a baby in the middle of the road and causing great destruction, both cars and Goose, who was on the motorcycle, crash, thus ending their chances of continuing the chase and making them, “Out of the game. Unable to continue pursuit” (Mad Max).  Goose microphones to Max Rockatansky, the film’s protagonist, and warns him that it is up to him to stop the Nightrider.  After playing Chicken with the Nightrider on the highway, Max causes the Nightrider to flip the vehicle which then explodes.  This may seem like any typical action film with a random car chase, but this particular scene holds a much deeper meaning. The film’s opening action sequence sets the stage for everything that follows in the film. 

                In regards to Australian cinema, Gibson’s article states, “If you want the real Australia, look at the earth, not the people” (Gibson, 1999: 40).  The Landscape reflects its people, and vice versa.   If Landscape represents the people, the characters in Mad Max can be read right from the start.  From the film’s opening shot, the Australian landscape remains vast and empty except for the desolate double lane of blacktop that cuts through it.  As the viewer watches the car chase progress, the landscape for the majority of time is brown with dry fields and a dull grey skyline hovering above.  This wide empty and static landscape foreshadows what the rest of the film will be overwhelmed by.  Gibson also refers to the landscape as “ultimately untamable, conceding social subsistence but never allowing human dominance” (Gibson, 1999: 40).  This suggests the idea of Max’s struggle to dominate the landscape, allowing him to represent the road that he is trying to protect as his territory.  While Max is the personification of the road, The Nightrider portrays the barren and endless Australian landscape that surrounds them.  As The Nightrider speeds uncontrollably while screaming obscene things at the top of his lungs, his brutality and recklessness are quite evident.  Even though he is the only one of his gang shown in this clip, he encompasses the characteristics of his entire gang and the savagery of the Australian landscape that Max will have to deal with during the film.   

                So far I have only discussed men in the film, in particular, white men.  As described in McFarlane’s article, “An important element of the ‘man’s country’ image is offered by Australian films” (McFarlane, 60).   Just from this opening scene, it is evident that the film will be dominated by men.  In this short clip we never actually get to see Max’s face.  Instead he is shrouded in mystery as we are only given low, close shots of Max, nothing that reveals his full features.  There is an air of toughness about him as the camera zooms up on only his eyes, which are covered by his aviator sunglasses, and then flashes to his black leather gloved hand slowly starting the car as the engine groans and we finally see the back image of his V8 Interceptor pull up to the road to enter the chase.  Without even seeing Max’s face, the viewer already has a sense of his monumental coolness.  McFarlane’s article also describes a typical image of the Australian male, “physically tough, capable of arduous work, quick to respond to perceived in justice” (McFarlane, 60).  In just three minutes, it is evident that Max exemplifies all of these characteristics of masculinity.   He took down The Nightrider when no one else had managed to in order to protect the law while showing no sign of apprehension.   

                 Another key concept that this clip shows is mateship.  Mateship is an important theme in Australian film (McFarlane, 62).  When Goose skids across the pavement on his motorcycle he immediately contacts Max.  The first thing Max asks is, “You okay Goose?” (Mad Max).  This may not seem significant now, but the bond that these two share is an important one for the rest of the film.  Inevitably, the death of Goose is half of what eventually makes Max go mad.  The relationship and bond that Max and Goose share was one of great magnitude.  After one of the gang members brutally burns Goose to death, Max decides he wants to avenge the death of his mate, and later on wife and son, by killing the remaining members left in The Nightriders gang.  Max exemplified many key ideals that are important in Australian identity and go along with mateship, such as bravery, sacrifice, and masculinity. 

                The cinematography of the film does exactly what it should: it evokes loneliness and the necessity for the brutality many of the characters exhibit.  The majority of camera shots in the opening scene come from the street level and tilt upwards, which allows for the buildup of intimidation to occur.  This is portrayed throughout the remaining film to keep the viewer’s interest and anticipation of what will happen next.  It’s amazing how a simple car chase can set the flavor of an entire film. 

           

Gibson, Ross. ‘Camera Naturea: Landscape in Australian Feature Film’ in John Frow and Meaghan Morris, eds., Australian Cultural Studies (St. Leonard’s: Allen & Unsin, 1993), 209-221

Mad Max. George Miller. Film. 1979.

McFarlane, Brian. “Ch.4: Mates and Others in a Wide Brown land: Images of Australia,” in McFarlane, Australian Cinema 1970-1985 (Melbourne: Heinemann, 1987), 47-69

Week 11 - The Good Woman of Bangkok

                 This week in lecture we watched the documentary film by Dennis O’Rourke, The Good Woman of Bangkok.  When we first began watching the film, I wasn’t sure what to expect.  I am not one for watching films where you have to read the subtitles on the bottom the screen.  My first instinct was that I was not going to like the film; however, this film captured my attention in a way I had not anticipated.  

                The good Woman of Bangkok was a documentary about a Thai woman named Aoi who, after being left by her husband while in the midst of being pregnant, has to turn to prostitution in order to survive and pay off the debt that her father’s death left the family.  It was definitely an eye opening film.  I am of course aware that things like this happen on an everyday basis all around the world, but to actually see it on film and not just in a fictional movie really gave me a new perspective. 

                When I first watched the film I did not realize that O’Rourke was an actual customer of Aoi’s until I read Williams article.  This made me look at things a little bit different.  This is also what we discussed a lot during tutorial.  Was it ethical for him to actually put himself into the film and be an active participant?  At first I was just completely disgusted in learning this about O’Rourke, but after hearing his thoughts in tutorial my thoughts did sway a little bit;  “But with a documentary, a good documentary, you can get that transcendental moment where you go, ‘this is real. I know this to be true.’ And it’s not because there are a whole lot of facts assembled before you and presented to you on screen, but it’s when you’re watching something and you have a kind of recognition, a self-recognition. I always aim for those moments. That’s something I was lucky to discover early on, and it’s I always look for.”

 I understand he wanted to get the real experience and the best way to do that is to actually be a customer of Aoi so you can have a full understanding of what goes on.  Actually being there and experiencing this also gives the viewer a chance to in a way experience it as well.  As I watched the film, I felt like I was right there with them, getting a first hand experience with her interviews.  However, I think that there are ways to do this without actually having her be his prostitute.

 I liked the quote in William’s article where it said, “Perhaps the best way to characterize the ethics of O’Rourke’s relation to his subject would be to say that, like the Brecht play to which his title alludes, this relation acknowledges that there can be no morally pure position, not truly good person.”  O’Rourke tried to defend himself and what he was doing by saying he was trying to help Aoi get out of prostitution by persuading her if she did this documentary that he would buy her a rice farm.  I would completely agree that what O’Rourke was doing for Aoi was a good thing.  However, we find out in the article that this is actually a form or manipulation because O’Rourke had already bought the rice farm for Aoi before the film began. 

 As I said before, I found this film very intriguing.  The way Aoi was scared for life all because of this lifestyle is unbelievably sad.  Not only does she call herself a bad person, but her thoughts on life are altered forever.  She hates every man that she knows and believes them all to be liars.  She doesn’t think anyone will ever love her because everyone in town knows who she is and what she does.  She doesn’t even believe love can exist in this world.  It just amazes me to look at what people are willing to do, and what they have to do in order to keep food on the table for themselves and their families.   

Week 10 - Cedar Boys

                This week in lecture we watched the movie Cedar Boys.  Cedar Boys was a film about Middle Eastern boys who fall into the world of crime and drug dealing for some quick money.   This film fit both the genre of last week (crime) as well as this week, which was multiculturalism.  Up until this point, we have not seen many films that included any race besides white Australians.  It was very interesting to see how the movie painted a picture of how these Lebanese boys were accepted into society.  For example, they were not allowed into the club the first time they tried.  They had to drop names to the bouncer in order to be let in.  It was just interesting that the film used Lebanese boys as the culprits in this film instead of white Australians, and it gave me an understanding of the frustration Lebanese kids may have to go through growing up in the western suburbs of Sydney.

                The first article that we read for this week had to do with SBS Minority TV.  We discussed this article a lot in tutorial.  I found this article very interesting because SBS (Special Broadcasting Service) is “a small public television channel in Australia.. and it’s mandate is to be both multicultural and multipurpose.  The channel has to service various cultural communities, reflect multiculturalism to all Australian and add diversity to the broadcasting system.”  It has put all of these ethnicities, cultures, sexualities, and races into one channel.  It allows Australians to see programs outside of their typical Anglo-American TV shows. 

There have been many arguments about this television show because some like it while others do not.  For example, some believe it as a voice of multiculturalism that needs to be protected, while others look at it as problematic.  Multiculturalism has not been huge in Australia.  In the other articles we read we learned how their stereotyped different races.  Khoo’s article talked about how “Asians do not fit comfortably into any of the film’s categories such as ‘the bushman’, ‘the convict’, ‘the digger’, ‘gays’, ‘wogs’, or ‘blackfellas’.”  Instead Asians have often been looked at in film as almost a structure of sacrifice.  As Khoo states again, “that is, the deaths function symbolically in the creation of a coherent self-identity for those who witness it.”   Another article by Dolgopolov that states, “Russian have endured negative, politicized typecasting and concomitant portrayals as mad and excessive.”  Basically he is saying Russians are often looked at as crazy in Australian film. 

Going back to the different arguments that are discussed about SBS TV, I see both sides but I think that overall, SBS is just trying to raise awareness of the different cultures and broaden Australia’s awareness.   However, people against SBS do raise some very valid points.  Some look at this issue in the perspective that we are treating multiculturalism like something we have power over and it stages power relationships this way.   They also make the point that they are containing these cultures into such a small space:  “A notion of multiculturalism whereby minority identities are managed in a sphere separate from the non-multicultural ‘majority’ (Smaill)”

As I said, overall I think that SBS is doing what they can to give Australia a broader range of multiculturalism than they’ve ever had before.  SBS started out as a small radio show and has grown into a quite popular TV show.  Maybe as the years go on, it can grow into something even larger that does not keep multiculturalism in such a defined small space.

Week 9 - Lantana

                This week in lecture we discussed the ideas of gothic, quirky, suburbia, and crime.  Gothic is a mix of irony, black humor, and real trauma.  Gothic can also be looked at as uncanny, or that which should have remained hidden or secret but has to come to light.  Quirky can be looked at as comedies which were the mainstay of Australian film in the 1990’s.  The most intriguing of topics that we talked about was suburbia.  Suburbia can be described in many ways.  In lecture we talked about suburbia as a bizarre, mysterious, and even threatening place.  In tutorial and in the reading we further discussed suburbia in great detail.

                It wasn’t until the 1990’s that suburbia became truly evident in films.  What was the reason for this?  I believe there could be a few different answers.  Simpson’s article states that, “With the growth in the number of prominent female directors, producers and script-writers in Australia over the last decade, we are seeing more emphasis being placed on locating films within traditional, domestic domains.”  So with women gaining more power when it comes to movies, their thoughts and ideas are being seen more often.  I also think suburbia came into play more frequently in the 90’s because movies about the bush couldn’t keep going on forever.  They were very popular in the years previous to this but as times change, so do people’s interests. 

                Simpson’s article also discusses many different ideas about suburbia and how it is used in different movies.  She states that, “Suburbia has often been characterized by intellectuals in Australia, America and Britain as an interstitial space or a borderland place which reflects the ‘contradictory aesthetic and more value of resident torn between rural and urban life.”  In tutorial we discussed our own thoughts about suburbia as well.  When I think of suburbia I think of a place set between the city and rural area that is almost in its own little bubble.  It’s almost unreal and unknowing to the rest of society.  When I think of a show that is set in a suburbia setting I think of Pleasantville or Desperate Housewives, which are American TV shows. 

                The movie that we watched this week was called Lantana.  This has been one of the most enjoyable movies for me that we have watched thus far.  I easily followed it and it kept me very entertained.  I also noticed some of the ideas of suburbia throughout the movie.  The movie’s setting is definitely a suburbia type town.  I specifically thought of the scene in which the women’s shoe was thrown into the bush.  The bush which seemed to represent such peacefulness and innocence with its blooming flowers actually turns up to be a crime scene where the shoe of the missing women was found.  

Week 8 – Not Quite Hollywood

                This week in cinema class we talked about the topics of exploitation and bad taste in Australian film.  When first reading these topics I wasn’t sure what to expect this week.  What did bad taste necessarily mean?  In lecture we discussed the two different values in film: commercial and cultural.  We then further talked about what exactly a genre was, and what an exploitation cinema was.  In lecture we defined exploitation cinema as aesthetic trash with a commercial focus.  It is often sensationalist and perverse with superficial storylines, and references to the ‘forbidden’ and cheap production values. I personally do not think that these exploitation films are a genre.  I think it is more based on people’s opinions and what appeals to them.  Many people look at these exploitations of sex, drugs, race, and murders as purely just trash, while others appreciate it.  Some also believe it was necessary to have this era of film to build off of it and also because even if people don’t want to admit it, this type of film appeals to many people.

                In tutorial we discussed the question of whether or not these films should be funded by the government.  In my opinion, I do not think they should be.  These films are going against the norm and society.  In a way it is almost giving Australia a bad reputation.  If people want to produce these films, I believe they have the right to, but I don’t find it necessary for them to be funded by the government. 

                In O’Regan’s article he discussed that there were 2 ways for cinema to possess value: commercially and culturally.  Cultural value is looked at as a national cinema which is more significant than just a Hollywood film.  It has meaning and are more worthy than a movie made just for a commercial aspect.  O’Regan quotes that, “Films of a local minor stream are more credible than those of the commercial mainstream.  These more valuable aspects of the cinema accrue the symbolic benefits of higher cultural authority by being associated with notions of heterogeneity, innovation and diversity at social, aesthetic and political levels”.  As I said before, the other value is commercial value.   Commercial value has a better feel of being able to connect with the whole world.  Cultural value may hit home for many Australians, but commercial allows the whole world, not just Australia, to appreciate the film.  This is not to say that all of the world will appreciate the films, but it allows for a much wider audience.

                As Nicholas writes her in article, “Not Quite Hollywood is not merely successful, but victorious in its pursuit of reviving interest in a grossly neglected field of truly spectacular, locally produced film”.  As state before, many people enjoyed these types of films.  It was something new and raw to Australia and much of the world.  To some it may be gruesome and hard to watch, but to others it was a turn in the film industry that was necessary for Australia’s future.