Innehållsförteckning för No. 198 från Metro

‘You look good – way bigger,’ Hayley (Simone Kessell) reassures her husband, Knuck (Matt Nable), shortly before he’s released from prison. Knuck, the violent leader of elite bikie gang The Copperheads Motorcycle Club, does indeed look big. Presumably, in jail, he’s been working out. He’s also been raping other inmates. The drift away from Hayley that follows suggests that incarceration has had a major sexual impact: no longer interested in his wife, Knuck begins ‘grooming’ a young male recruit. He’s also set to resume his place as head of the Copperheads, temporarily under the leadership of club vice-president Paddo (Ryan Corr); unsurprisingly, Paddo isn’t so sure that handing things back to Knuck is a great idea. Analysis shouldn’t approach a text by focusing on what it’s not. But the title…

Australian independent filmmaker Luke Sparke cut his directorial teeth with Queensland-shot creature feature Red Billabong (2016), about two brothers and their friends battling against an ancient urban legend. His second feature, Occupation (2018), is a different beast altogether: the film is an alien-invasion sci-fi thriller, which boasts a starrier cast, high-octane action sequences and superior production values. It even has a sequel already green-lit. I speak to Sparke – who took on screenwriting duties alongside directing – and producers Carly and Carmel Imrie about learning curves, building creative confidence and the importance of collaboration in an independent production. Oliver Pfeiffer: With its big action sequences and international ensemble cast, Occupation is quite a step up from your film-making debut. What gave you the confidence to up…

Nuri Bilge Ceylan’s films are long, slow, minimalist, ponderous, ruminative and, ultimately, existential – airy art movies delivering nary an explosion in theme, plot or pyrotechnics. Across eight features – from The Small Town (1997) to The Wild Pear Tree (2018) – for which the 59-year-old Turkish filmmaker has won the Palme d’Or, the Grand Prix and Best Director at Cannes, he’s rolled film on all manner of frosty silences, flirting with cinematic tedium as he explores isolation in society and environment. He’s endlessly stared at his characters in the hope of tapping into their interiors (gazing at the landscape of the face, Ceylan reasons, is ‘the only way to get to the truth because, most of the time, the words we say are not true’1 ). Action is scant…

Whether they be mesmerising athletes or emblematic traffic conductors, graceful goose-stepping soldiers or meticulous ‘model workers’, women in North Korea have arguably received more attention in cultural expressions than their sisters in the ‘free world’. As cogs in the machinery of Pyongyang’s mission to promote the Great Leaders and the Party, women are primarily depicted across various media as agents of ideological change. The oscillation between representations of women in the past and the present – between domestic tradition and public revolution – is one of the most enduring aspects of the country’s films, and it is the opaqueness between these representational boundaries that makes North Korean cinema all the more compelling. While it has long been official policy in North Korea to bridge the gender gap, the propagandist fervour…

‘In the world’s biggest city, stories unfold in public spaces,’ says Olivia Martin-McGuire, in her feature-length documentary China Love (2018). As an Australian photographer living in Shanghai, Martin-McGuire often saw brides posing with their beaus in front of the city skyline – in plumes of chiffon, with blushing make-up, blow-wave curls, fake lashes and fuchsia bouquets – accompanied by professional photographers freighted with expensive gear. A performance of wedded bliss. But the brides weren’t yet brides: every year, thousands of young Chinese couples take pre-wedding photos up to six months before the official proceedings. Whose fantasy do the photos project, and why is it so important? Such is the power of photography in selling and building new cultural myths of marriage. China Love begins with these chintzy pre-wedding images –…

A former US marine arrives home to find an intruder hiding there. He begins to fight off the burglar and swiftly gets the upper hand, pinning the man down and choking him. ‘Help!’ gasps the burglar. We hear a calm, disembodied voice: ‘I need your permission to operate independently.’ ‘Permission granted!’ the intruder splutters. ‘Thank you,’ the voice says mildly. Then the camera tilts like a carnival ride on rails as the burglar explodes into kinetic retaliation. He throws the ex-marine against the wall and swings smoothly to his feet. He dodges or parries his opponent’s punches with brisk economy, as if anticipating each one. Their fight moves into the kitchen, where the resident tries to defend himself using various household objects. The intruder turns them all against him. This…

It should come as no surprise that Annemarie Jacir’s Palestinian family dramedy, Wajib (2017), revolves around obligation. The title translates, after all, to ‘duty’ – in this case, the Palestinian custom that a father and son, Abu Shadi and Shadi (played by real-life father and son Mohammed and Saleh Bakri), hand-deliver invitations to the wedding of Amal (Maria Zreik), their daughter and sister, respectively. More broadly, Jacir’s film – operating in a lightly satirical tone throughout – examines the familial, cultural and social obligations associated with duty, tying this together into a direct interrogation of idealism and realism in modern Palestine. Wajib’s narrative, which unfolds as Christmas approaches in Nazareth, assumes an episodic nature as Abu Shadi and Shadi travel from household to household. Jacir’s screenplay maintains audience interest with…

When, exactly, did ‘human rights’ become a dirty phrase? That’s a key question raised by Judy Rymer’s documentary Border Politics (2018), a forceful defence of the rights of people seeking refuge and asylum in Western countries that are turning increasingly hostile. ‘Talking about human rights has become almost unacceptable,’ Border Politics’ narrator, barrister Julian Burnside, tells me. ‘I may be overstating that, but the world’s appetite for respecting human rights seems to have diminished progressively.’ You don’t have to look very hard to find evidence for Burnside’s argument. In her film, Rymer jarringly exposes just how far things have seemingly deteriorated. ‘We must want our fellow human beings to have rights and freedoms which give them dignity,’ former US first lady Eleanor Roosevelt says in archival footage shown in the…

In many ways, Midnight Oil: 1984 (2018) serves as a culmination of several years’ collaboration between director Ray Argall and the iconic Australian band. Having worked on several videos and concert films for them from 1982 to 1986, Argall embedded himself among Midnight Oil to document their national tour for the 1984 album Red Sails in the Sunset. While the tour itself marked a bold new direction for the band, who were undertaking promotional duties for themselves for the first time, an added wrinkle came with frontman Peter Garrett agreeing to take the role of Senate candidate for the newly formed Nuclear Disarmament Party (NDP). The band were always staunchly political in their art, particularly regarding the issue of nuclear proliferation, but this tumultuous collision of the politics and music…

When Graham Kennedy appeared for the last time on In Melbourne Tonight (IMT) on 23 December 1969, preeminent Nine Network newsreader Eric Pearce crowned him the ‘King of Television’. For many, it seemed like the end of an era. In taking his final bow, the ‘king’ brought one performer forward from the line-up to bow with him on stage: Philip Brady. ‘It was a well-earned moment for Philip’, says long-time friend Mike McColl Jones,1 who was Kennedy’s comedy writer from 1963. As Kennedy’s straight man, Brady was the constant butt of his pranks and jokes, but, as he reflects, ‘I didn’t really mind so much because it made me a household name and, in those days, everybody was watching television.’2 Perhaps, in inviting him to share that bow, Kennedy was…

On the surface, Jason Raftopoulos’ debut feature, West of Sunshine (2017), is a domestic drama about a day in the life of a man doing what he has to to survive with his son by his side. In another place and time, one could see the story transposed, more or less intact, to Ken Loach’s social-realist renditions of the streets of England. The film’s press material even compares it to Bicycle Thieves (Vittorio De Sica, 1948) and The Wrestler (Darren Aronofsky, 2008),1 although doing so doesn’t necessarily help this intimate independent film, given there is already an entire local history that it nicely fits into. Premiering in the 2017 Venice Film Festival’s Orizzonti sidebar, with its first Australian screening at the 2018 Sydney Film Festival, West of Sunshine is based…

Since first emerging on the Japanese horror scene in the 1980s, Kiyoshi Kurosawa has been an enduring name in film. While his style has evolved over the years, he has consistently created bold films and presented the unsettling side of genre – his early films such as The Excitement of the Do-Re-Mi-Fa Girl (1985) include arthouse sequences alongside explicit sexual content. This defiance of convention continues into his work today, which blends distinct visuals and understated performances with his perspicuous brand of thriller. His latest film, Foreboding (2017) – a loose adaptation of a Tomohiro Maekawa stage play1 – depicts the period leading up to an alien invasion. This narrative formula may be oversold, but, here, it is reignited with Kurosawa’s filmmaking flair and ferocity. Foreboding opens by introducing us…

As the screen fades in from black in the opening of Catherine Scott’s BackTrack Boys (2018), Bernie Shakeshaft emerges as the calm centre of a storm of activity, surrounded by his mongrel mix of kelpies and border collies. The pack, working dogs in the truest sense, are a joy to behold – full of energy and joy, and always ready for a cuddle. Leading them out into the paddocks, Shakeshaft appears relaxed and confident as he directs his animals with quiet, one-word commands. Though simple, it’s an opener full of metaphorical meaning about Shakeshaft and the work he does with his youth program, BackTrack,1 which helps young people mostly aged twelve to eighteen when others have given up on them: teenagers who are homeless, struggling with addiction, disengaged from traditional…

Few Australian films are as evocative of the time and place of their production – or of the period in which they are set – as Ken Cameron’s adaptation of Helen Garner’s award-winning novel Monkey Grip. Upon its release in the early 1980s, the film had a mixed critical reception, both here and abroad, and indeed had difficulty in securing even local distribution. However, the distributors found they had underestimated its potential, and today the film occupies an assured place in the history of the Australian film revival. Its atmospheric re-creation of a bohemian phase in Melbourne suburban life, among artists and addicts of various kinds, has not been superseded. Brian McFarlane, Series Editor Getting it made – and shown For a while, it looked as if the film might…

SURF’S UP: WATCHING WEB SERIES Rochelle Siemienowicz From its beginnings in 2013 as a single-day event, Melbourne WebFest – founded by Steinar Ellingsen, a former journalist, academic and early adopter of the form, as the creator of the award-winning 2011 documentary web series The Inland Sea: An Australian Odyssey – has grown into a four-day festival of screenings, forums and industry events, including an opportunity to pitch to ABC iview. Now, there are awards offered in twenty-five categories, eligible to both local and international titles. The 2018 festival saw 1600 attendees, and was sponsored by La Trobe University, Film Victoria and Screen Australia. These days, these industry players are all taking short-form content very seriously indeed, as are the free-to-air broadcasters and streaming services. Certainly, there’s been an explosion in…