Category: Biography

Boy Erased

Rated: MA15+Boy Erased

Directed and Written by: Joel Edgerton

Based on the Novel by: Garrard Conley

Produced by: Steve Golin, Kerry Kohansky-Roberts, Joel Edgerton

Starring: Lucas Hedges, Nicole Kidman, Russell Crowe, Joel Edgerton, Cherry Jones, Michael “Flea” Balzary, Xavier Dolan, Troye Sivan, Joe Alwyn, Emily Hinkler, Jesse LaTourette, David Joseph Craig, Théodore Pellerin, Madelyn Cline and Britton Sear.

‘Say it, I am using sex and homosexuality to fill a God-shaped hole in my life.  Say it!’ demands Victor Sykes (Joel Edgerton) head therapist of a conversion program.

It’s a mantra he uses to cure the ‘afflicted’ and confused brought to Love In Action (LIA) to be cured of their homosexuality; a program Jared (Lucas Hedges) finds himself trapped in after admitting his homosexuality in a world built on Christian values: his Christian mother Nancy (Nicole Kidman) and his father, Marsahll Eamons (Russell Crowe) a Baptist pastor.

There are a lot of LBGTQAI films around (recently, ‘The Miseducation of Cameron Post’ and ‘Disobedience’), and I admit, I groaned at reviewing another drama that didn’t hold my interest – Australia has just been through a referendum to make gay marriage legal; the topic, shall I say, has been well discussed.

But I also admit to my ignorance, the bubble I inhabit where I don’t have to confront my Christian parents with an admission I know they would struggle to accept.

Director, screenwriter and actor, Joel Edgerton read Gerrard Conley’s memoir, ‘Boy Erased: A Memoir of Identity, Faith and Family’ in what felt like seconds; relating more to the concept of feeling trapped than the confession of homosexuality.

And this view brings a different tone to the film – the suffocation and trauma of good people doing bad because of misunderstanding rather than politics or even religious perspective.

Boy Erased is more the unveiling of psychological trauma experienced by innocent, good kids who are genuinely confused (or not) about their sexuality; who are willing to go into a program, for the sake of their parents and family, that tells them God won’t love them if they’re gay (and think about it, bringing a group of conflicted young people together to stop them being gay?  Talk about forbidden fruit!).

So when church and family, the foundation of your upbringing tells you you’re sick and wrong, the psychological damage is soul destroying.

Instead of being hit over the head with a, for want of a better metaphor, good versus evil (the evil being the religious, anti-gay) there’s a more complicated dynamic shown here, shown from the perspective of a son who wants to do the right thing, and parents who love their God and their son.

There are very different roles for some big names in film here – Nicole Kidman as the bleached, rhinestone encrusted pastor’s wife, the pastor himself played by Russell Crowe: a powerfully conflicted man whose faith tells him to disown his son, yet a loving man who continues to try to understand.  Love is love is easy to say until it’s your own.  Jared’s father admits to his struggle to accept and his disappointment of never having biological grandchildren.

Joel Edgerton plays the surprisingly believable charismatic lead counsellor – who would have thought the Aussie larrikin had the cult leader in him?!

And the restraint shown by young Jared is endearing.  I can’t think of another term because he managed to strike a maternal chord.

Edgerton has handled this complicated suffering that exists quietly yet extensively in the world with delicate sensitivity, allowing the integrity of Jared to continue to echo beyond his novel, and perhaps even this film.

Backtrack Boys

Rated: MA15+Backtrack Boys

Directed, Produced and Written by: Catherine Scott

Consultant Producer: Madeleine Hetherton

Cinematographer: Catherine Scott

Composers: Kristin Rule, Jonathan Zwartz.

Audience Award for Best Documentary, Sydney Film Festival

Audience Award for Best Documentary, Melbourne International Film Festival

Filmed over two years, Backtrack Boys is an observational documentary about Founder and CEO, Bernie Shakeshaft and his unique outreach program to help young kids to:

Stay alive

Stay out of jail

And to chase their hopes and dreams.

I was thoroughly charmed by this film – writer, director and cinematographer Catherine Scott allowing the story to speak for itself.

Growing up in the Northern Territory, Bernie was taught how to track dingos by Indigenous trackers from Tennent Creek.

Rather than tracking dingos from behind, chasing them, they taught Bernie to backtrack, to observe their behaviour to see where they’d been to see where they’d be tomorrow.

Bernie reckons they weren’t teaching him how to catch wild dogs but how to catch wild kids.

His outreach program is unique in that it’s all about giving board to young people, who’ve had trouble with the law and at home, to stay and train the many dogs on his property to become dog jumpers.  Each kid is given a dog to train, or rather, the dog picks them: dogs don’t judge, they just keep coming back again and again.

I would have thought the group of mischievous kids would have hammed it up for the camera, unable to handle being filmed.  But there’s a genuine insight captured here that tells of a level of comfort and openness with film maker, Catherine Scott, that allows us to see into this fragile world of rehabilitation as the kids open their hearts to Bernie and the volunteers; to struggle with anger and hurt and disappointments, and the consequences of lashing out.

Although the film could be used for teaching youth workers, I didn’t feel like I was under instruction – it was all about meeting the kids: Zac, Russell, Alfie, Sindi.  And to be taken on a journey as they figure out their path in life.

Gentle and matter-of-fact Bernie, who states, ‘I’ve spent so much time with dogs that I think more like a dog than I think like a person’, is able to calm the kids to see reason so we’re shown moments like Zac sharing as they’re sitting around the camp fire that he wants to leave the world with no regrets; no hate in his heart.

We’re taken from the out-skirts of Armidale in New South Wales where Backtrack Boys is set-up surrounded by green paddocks with grazing sheep and horses, to country shows including the Wellington show where the boys show off the dogs’ jumping skills, and their own.  To the detention centre where Tyrson’s waiting to get out and back on track again; to parliament and putting on a show at Government House; to Russell’s fear of going to court to face charges and the uncertainty of whether he’ll walk out again.

Seemingly simple, the film is a series of moments, as we’re shown what the quiet observer sees – the rewards of Bernie’s hard work with Rusty, wild and swearing and chewing gum in the morning to him later organising the bathroom and noting the need for more toothpaste after brushing his teeth.

It’s a sad and realistic documentary, making any break-through and win all the more sweet.

Westwood: Punk, Icon, Activist

Rated: MWestwood: Punk, Icon, Activist

Directed by: Lorna Tucker

Edited by: Paul Carlin

Produced by: Eleanor Emptage, Shirine Best, Nicole Stott, John Battsek

Starring: Vivivenne Westwood, Andreas Kronthaler, Kate Moss.

Throughout her long career, avant garde fashion designer and activist Vivienne Westwood has been a giant safety pin digging into the side of the British establishment.

From the first little backroom shop in the King’s Road that she shared with Malcolm McLaren selling records (him) and clothing (her), Westwood claims to have invented punk, with McLaren managing (or perhaps mismanaging) the Sex Pistols and Westwood responsible for the punk aesthetic.

She has often described herself as a woman on a mission and, in the 1970s, the mission was to confront the establishment through sex. Pronouncing England as the home of the flasher, Westwood designed a line of rubber wear for the office to sell from their shop now flagrantly rebranded SEX in huge, hot pink letters.

Her designs from that time onwards have become no less confrontational, from the 1976 Destroy tee shirt calling out the establishment as fascists to the 2003 show where she sent her male models down the runway wearing fake breasts over their polo necks. Believing that clothes are deeply emotional, Westwood creates clothing, ‘to face the world in a spectacular way’, as with supermodel Carla Bruni’s 1994 appearance on a Paris catwalk in a scanty faux fur thong. At last, a fitting riposte to the 1936 surrealist Object, the fur-lined teacup.

Despite the sensation her designs create, Westwood takes a very practical approach to design. As one of her assistants observes of Vivienne and partner Andreas Kronthaler’s collaboration, ‘They work with their hands, they work on the body, they have a rapport with the body’. Westwood has been making her own clothes from an early age, and her working class background probably goes some way to explaining the campaign of guerrilla warfare she has been waging against the establishment. Far from hiding torn edges and safety pins, Westwood features them as symbols of insubordination. She wants her clothes to ‘tell a story’, one spiked with mischief and defiance.

But there is an even more personal impetus underlying both Westwood’s designs and her activism. When she was nine, Westwood was transfixed and horrified by a painting of the Crucifixion. It was a seminal moment. Since then, it has become her mission, ‘To stop people doing terrible things to each other’. Wanting to change the world, she joined a Greenpeace expedition to the Arctic Circle. The environmental devastation she witnessed there left her traumatised. Over time, her mission has become ever more focussed, homing in on the financial establishment as, ‘The rotten financial system,’ and, ‘A hydra that is destroying us’.

Even so, this Designer of the Year (twice) who performs cartwheels on the catwalk has been struggling with a conundrum common to many underground artists. As the work gains recognition, it is at the same time being subsumed into the very establishment it is agitating against.

If fashion or popular culture interest you in any way this documentary is a must-see, and for the rest of us it’s a fascinating insight into a fiercely original spirit.

 

First Man

Rated: MFirst Man

Directed by: Damien Chazelle

Screenplay by: Josh Singer

Produced by: Wyck Godfrey, p.g.a., Marty Bowen, p.g.a., Isaac Klausner, Damien Chazelle

Based on the Book by: James R. Hansen

Starring: Ryan Gosling, Claire Foy, Jason Clarke, Kyle Chandler, Corey Stoll, Patrick Fugit, Christopher Abbott, Ciaran Hinds, Olivia Hamilton, Pablo Schreiber, Shea Whigham, Lukas Haas, Ethan Embry, Brian D’Arcy James, Cory Michael Smith and Kris Swanberg.

Based on the biography written by James R. Hansen, ‘First Man: The Life of Neil A. Armstrong’, First Man allows the spectacular phenomenon of man landing on the moon to speak for itself.

Oscillating – yes, it gets technical which is the main reason I enjoyed the film – between the drama of Armstrong’s family life and his courage to risk everything to go to the moon, this is a quiet film punctuated by nail-biting suspense.

It would have been easy to over-dramatise the achievement of America being the first to step foot on alien ground, instead, director Damien Chazelle (La La Land (2016), Whiplash (2013)) focuses more on the man: his sacrifice, strength and will to achieve what the American government so desperately wants to achieve before the Russians.

Ryan Gosling as Armstrong holds up the helmet well as the family man and as the brave, cautious and deliberate pilot navigating rockets, that are really bombs, set off while strapped inside what looks like a tin can.

The absurdity and risks are shown with lines like the technician buckling Dave Scott (Christopher Abbott) in for the test run of rocketing Gemini 8 through the atmosphere to see if it’s possible to dock one craft to another in space asking, ‘Anybody got a Swiss army knife handy?’

‘You’re kidding?!’ Dave says as the final adjustments are made.

First Man is about the years it took to accomplish the impossible, opening in 1961 with Neil beyond the atmosphere, testing the ability to cut through and be able to fall back to Earth – and the love of his wife Janet (Claire Foy), son (Gavin Warren / Luke Winters) and the devastating loss of his young daughter, Karen (Lucy Stafford).

This is a drama, the frailty of humanity given as much weight as the courage required to realise one of man’s greatest achievements.

When interviewed to join the Apollo team, Armstrong’s told by one interviewer that he’s sorry for the loss of his daughter.

To which he replies, ‘I’m sorry, is there a question?’

And he’s asked whether the loss has any effect on his wanting to join the Apollo mission.

‘It would be unreasonable to assume it wouldn’t have an effect.’

This statement sums up the movie for me – a quietly suspenseful and direct depiction of what it took and the motivation to drive someone to take such risks without unnecessary fanfare.

What Will People Say (Hva Vil Folk Si)

Directed and Written by: Iram HaqWhat Will People Say

Produced by: Maria Ekerhovd

Executive Producer: Alex Helgeland

Music Composed by: Lorenz Dangel, Martin Pedersen

Starring: Maria Mozhdah, Adil Hussain, Rohit Saraf, Ekavali Khanna, Ali Arfan, Sheeba Chaddha, Lalit Parimoo, Jannat Zubair Rehmani, Isak Lie Harr, Nokokure Dahl.

Released in Australia as part of the Scandinavian Film Festival 2018

Winner: Audience Award, AFI Fest 2017

Official Selection International Film Festival Rotterdam 2018

Official Selection Toronto International Film Festival 2017

It took many years for director and writer, Iram Haq to tell the autobiographic story of her past.  To be able to tell of her experience as a sixteen-year-old, in the film known as Nisha (Maria Mozhdah), growing up in a Pakistani family living in Norway.

Now, after enough time has passed, Iram is able to show the pain of being betrayed and kidnapped with an unflinching eye.

No mean feat as the pain of this difficult time was caused by her family – her betrayal, the threat to kill, her abuse – all because, what would people think of her behaviour?

What Will People Think is an apt title as the embarrassment of the family is more important than the life of a girl growing up, just like her friends; the film about her father (Adil Hussain) as much as about her because it’s his over-reaction when finding a boy in her bedroom that sets the course of her life.

And the family follow his instruction.  His son; her brother partaking in sending her back to Pakistan against her will, telling her to enjoy the trip, talking to his father about how cool the new BMW is while Nisha has no idea of her fate.  Her life, not her own.

We are taken from the cold and snowy world of Norway, where kids play basketball and go to parties, to the heat of Pakistan, the crumbling old buildings and markets and mosquitoes showing the contrast of two completely different worlds.

What Will People Say

It’s a nightmare that deepens as Nisha’s left with relatives in Pakistan, trying to make her way, only to be betrayed again and again, all under the guise of being for her own good; the continued harassment and relentless discipline, to do what she’s told under threat of death, her constant reality.

There’s a fierce emotive story here, told without dramatisation so the performance of Maria Mozhdah as Nisha hits harder, digs deeper.

The times I did have tears spring to my eyes were those warm moments when Nisha was seen, heard and loved – a little sister giving her a hug, or the simple attempt to fly an orange kite upon a rooftop.

And the humanity of members of the family are shown through their love of being together: cooking, eating, praying, bickering.  All normal family stuff.

It’s the terror of stepping outside the social boundaries, of being found-out and shunned that turns good people into fearful people, into something cold.

The Norwegian Child Welfare Services are brought in to assess and act when the family show behaviour unacceptable in the culture they’re living.  Yet the family isn’t all bad, the film showing love and warmth making it harder to see the turning away – the authoritative stance and abuse giving insight into the culture clash that stuns the sensors.  To see a father spit in his daughter’s face, for her to lack any control makes me furious because it’s so unfair.

But the film isn’t about anger or hurt, in the end it comes down to courage and I was left with a lingering admiration of Nisha’s bravery.

The Gospel According to André

Rated: PGThe Gospel According to André

Directed by: Kate Novack

Produced: Andrew Rossi & Josh Braun

Cinematography: Bryan Sarkinen

Original Music: Ian Hultquist & Sofia Hultquist

Starring: André Leon Talley, Sean Combs, Divine, Tom Ford, Whoopi Goldberg.

The scene is a Paris show for the international fashion elite. A model in a lavish fur coat removes it to reveal an equally lavish fur bolero as she attempts to catwalk through a crush of bodies in an overcrowded suite of rooms. This documentary opens a window onto a world of dress-ups, where haute couture is an instrument to uplift the soul and the task is to remake the world into a more inclusive and light-hearted place. At least, that is the mission for André Leon Talley.

A tall black man. ‘A pine tree of a guy in fedora hat’. Could a more unlikely candidate be welcomed into the highest echelons of the international fashion scene in the 1970s, than a man who more than once has described himself as a manatee (a large sea mammal with flippers)?

Whenever I watch a biopic, one particular question always intrigues me. How did they do it? And when that question is asked of such an unlikely subject as Talley, the answer is even more compelling.

The Gospel According to André

When he arrived there, New York was considered to be the centre of everything, and Talley found himself at the very epicentre when he worked for Andy Warhol at the Factory. Here, he met and became a lifelong friend of Karl Lagerfeld and, soon after, the legendary Diana Vreeland’s protégée. They met when he helped Mrs Vreeland set up one of her high fashion extravaganzas at the Metropolitan Museum. This, too, would be the beginning of an enduring friendship and eventually lead to a thirty year association with Vogue.

All this was a very long way from his early life. Talley was brought up by his grandmother in the Deep South, the heart of Jim Crow country. Not only did the Jim Crow laws define a particularly vicious type of segregation, but it also meant that lynchings occurred until as late as 1975. It is hard to imagine how frightened, disenfranchised and deeply angry Tally must have felt as thirteen-year-old taking a shortcut back from the newsagents when a car full of youths pulled up and they hurled rocks at him, all because he was a black person with the temerity to walk across the campus at Duke University.

Even so, those early years laid the groundwork for Talley’s future path in life. The Church as the bastion of southern culture was essentially a fashion show and introduced Talley to its unspoken language. He began with hats, since his beloved grandmother had one for every season and every occasion, but he soon learned to read with fluency and subtlety across the lexis of style: ‘two bracelets instead of one means you’re wealthy’.

André Leon Talley became so many things he wasn’t supposed to be. A long-time friend described him as, ‘A man with a pure cashmere heart.’ And he was ‘A man who achieved his dreams’, according to André.

For those who wish to take a peek from a fashion insider’s perspective as well as those who want to look closely into an unusual life and find out how he did it, I can recommend this as a sensitive portrait of the man and a captivating documentary of his times.

My Friend Dahmer

Rated: MMy Friend Dahmer

Written & Directed by: Marc Meyers

Based on the book ‘My Friend Dahmer’ by: Derf Backderf

Produced by: Jody Girgenti, p.g.a., Marc Meyers, p.g.a., Adam Goldworm, p.g.a., Michael Merlob, Milan Chakraborty

Starring: Ross Lynch, Anne Heche, Dallas Roberts, Alex Wolff, Tommy Nelson, Vincent Kartheiser, Harrison Holzer and Miles Robbins.

 

Based on the true story of serial killer, Jeffrey Dahmer, My Friend Dahmer is a tense and creepy examination of Dahmer’s life before he became a murderer.

Reminiscent of the tone used in J. D. Salinger’s, ‘The Catcher in the Rye’ there’s a constant tension with signs of Dahmer’s compulsions apparent in his obsession of collecting road-kill to then soak in acid to collect the bones: external behaviour symptomatic of his increasingly disturbed mind.

Based on Derf Backderf’s critically acclaimed 2012 graphic novel, Derf writes from personal experience after attending high school with Dahmer.  Before finding out about Dahmer’s confession, Derf (his character in the movie played by Alex Wolff) considered his high school experience to be like everyone else’s.

Film writer and director, Marc Meyers asks, ‘What are those forces in one’s life that sculpt and define us? How do we become who we become? Why does one teenager find promise and his friend, meanwhile, enters adulthood broken?’

This isn’t a violent or gory film, but a character study of suspense.

Following Dahmer (Ross Lynch) through senior-high, pre-1978, the audience is shown the typical teen struggles as the isolated, unusual Dahmer is adopted by a group of boys who find his antics hilarious.

Surrounded by girls ‘aggressively’ out of their league, team-Dahmer create a high-school legend as Dahmer throws epileptic-type fits in class, in the hallway; random moments that disturb and amuse. And the antics of making Dahmer their mascot is genuinely funny, in an adolescent kind of way.

That’s what’s so unsettling about the film: the ordinary nature of kids in school being typical.

Everyone grew up with a kid like Dahmer.  But what was it that turned a kid-made-famous in school by chucking fits for attention, all for the entertainment of his new mates, into a serial killer, ultimately confessing to the murder of seventeen men and boys?

Meyer’s focusses on the characters, allowing the story to speak without flash, without overt violence like blurring the image of a gutted dog, the impression enough to evoke the heart-rending response.

This isn’t a true-crime investigation with detectives and interviews, instead, the depths of Dahmer are explored showing his struggle to connect, showing there’s wit and humour buried beneath the cold exterior.

You can see the tipping of his compulsions versus his want to be with friends changing depending on the difficulties he faces at home with his mother’s mental illness (outstanding performance of Joyce Dahmer by Anne Heche) and his parents divorcing.

His father, Lionel Dahmer (Dallas Roberts) tries to understand the bizarre behaviour of his kid, to make the effort to encourage change like buying Dahmer a set of weights to get him out of the road-kill death hut and to maybe meet a girl.

And you can see Dahmer trying yet failing to fight against his needs.

This kid is twisted and it’s difficult yet fascinating to watch.

There’s a curiousity out there, to watch the makings of a serial killer.  But this isn’t one of those sensationalised dramatic thrills.

My Friend Dahmer is more of a quiet observation made all the more disturbing through a setting of the ordinary.

 

 

Midnight Oil 1984

Rated: MMidnight Oil 1984

Writer, Director:  Ray Argall

Producers:  Rachel Argall, Ray Argall

Starring :  Peter Garrett, Rob Hirst, Jim Moginie, Andrew James, Martin Rotsey, and Peter Gifford.

 

In 1984 as Australia faced the turmoil and uncertainty of political conflicts, systemic poverty, mega powers flexing their nuclear muscle, and the home-grown unwashable stain of a nation’s refusal to acknowledge the legacy of racism towards its indigenous culture – Midnight Oil embarked on a national tour of their album Red Sails in the Sunset and unified a nationwide voice of protest with their music.

Ray Argall’s documentary, Midnight Oil 1984 gives candid unseen angles and film footage of Midnight Oil at the height of galvanising social change through their music that hit the top of Australian and International music charts. Argall’s lens muscles into the action of sardine packed audiences – the audiences packed because of entrepreneurial self-promotion – in sweaty pub venues with no air conditioning and walls and ceilings dripping with honey thick sweat.

Argyll’s lens dips into the wide mouthed stares of audiences, witnessing social change at the windmill circling arms of a 6’4 gyrating maniac lead singer, as he unifies them together in songs of protest.

I too stood like a stunned possum in headlights the first time I saw Peter Garrett live in the 80’s with Midnight Oil, at New Zealand’s, Sweetwater’s Music Festival – where they played alongside UB40, Psychedelic Furs, Toots and the Maytals and others – I too gaped, at what I thought was a gyrating maniac.

He looked like someone had rented his body for the weekend, an alien perhaps or a rogue angel on a vacay down under in New Zealand, an alien or angel, who in their haste to jump in the body, had lost the manual and now had no clue how to steer the 6’4 convulsing kinetic frame that was Midnight Oil’s charismatic and out-of-this-world, lead singer, Peter Garrett.

Director Ray Argall’s, Midnight Oil 1984, delivers up a powerful moving snapshot, of a time when one of Australia’s greatest rock bands, collided with Australian politics and delivered the voice of the common people to a world stage.

Intimate backstage scenes permissible through Argyll’s lens reveal a very unrock and roll off stage lifestyle – hot tea beverages are sipped between sets, yogic stretching by Garrett on the floor of a minimalist and functional dressing room – not a band rider in site; kilometer-upon-kilometer-long jogging tracks for Drummer Rob Hirst, as he gets body ready for his marathon on stage drumming performances. His drum kit nailed to the floor at every performance.

The band’s reputation was built on intense live performances, where they leapt on to stage and tore the places apart with their energy and the political rage of their lyrics.

Newspaper archives and recent band member interviews offer welcome backstory and give insights to the meteoric and controversial ascension of Peter Garrett into the political arena.

The legacy of Midnight Oil with their fight songs, social conscience and their unique stage presence chiseled the landscape of Australian rock history and changed a nation with what they bought to the stage.

Enigmatic and indefinable, for me Garrett vibrates with the stage presence of a rogue angel, and once seen he changes you for having looked and stared. Fellow band member, Drummer Rob Hirst, and Garrett’s friend of 45-years agrees, that whatever it is that Garrett does on stage, it cannot be called dancing, but whatever it is, it works.

Gurrumul

Rated: PGGurrumul

Written and Directed by: Paul Damien Williams

Produced by: Shannon Swan

Co-producers: Geoffrey Gurrumul Yunupingu, Mark T Grose, Michael Hohnen

Score by: Michael Hohnen, Geoffrey Gurrumul Yunupingu, Erkki Veltheim

Indigenous Liaisons: Susan Dhangal Gurruwiwi, Johnathon Yunupingu, Geoffrey Gurrumul Yunupingu

Interviewees: Susan Dhangal Gurruwiwi, Michael Hohnen, Mark T Grose, Daisy Yunupingu (dec), Djuŋa Djuŋa Yunupingu, Terry Nyambi Yunupingu (dec), Erkki Veltheim, Geoffrey Gurrumul Yunupingu.

On the 25th of July 2017, Geoffrey Gurrumul Yunupingu passed away, aged 46.

In Yolngu lore the name, image and voice of the recently departed is retired from all public use.  A very rare exception has been made by Gumatj and Gälpu clan leaders for this film.

Three days before his death, Geoffrey Gurrumul Yunupingu approved this film. It remains unchanged since this time.

All I could feel watching the life of Gurrumul was thankfulness.  To have a door opened into his world was an experience full of wonder; like a light was shone on a culture unseen or misunderstood.

Gurrumul is more than a documentary about music or a musician – the film gives insight into the Yolugu culture.

Growing up in the Galiwin’ku community on Elcho Island off the coast of Arnhem Land, Gurrumul became the highest selling Indigenous artist in history.  Gurrumul is a documentary about his rise to fame and how the meek was able to travel and reach out with his music to touch people around the world.

Gurrumul was born blind.  Living in a community filled with music and ceremony, Gurrumul embraced singing and the guitar (beautifully played even though held up-side-down), because it made him happy.

His family felt bad for him because they thought he could never travel far from home.  But never underestimate.

With the help of Michael Hohnen and Mark Grose and their record label, Skinnyfish Music, Gurrumul became a household name.  But it was more than the music that held Michael and Gurrumul together, they became close friends – they became brothers.

It was hard going for Skinnyfish Music, dealing with an artist who refused to speak, where English was his fourth language.  It wasn’t about the fame or the money – it was about keeping the stories of his life alive.  There had to be something to resonate, to have meaning, otherwise – what’s the point?

It’s so refreshing to see someone who values the land, the animals in it; family and keeping the knowledge of the world and why we’re in it, alive.

Gurrumul’s aunty speaks about death, about life – where does it start?  Where does it end?

Watching Michael try to explain to the media in interviews what the saltwater crocodile means to Gurrumul – that it isn’t an animal to represent his people – that he is the saltwater crocodile, was amusing and fascinating.

It’s such a gentle unfolding I didn’t realise how strong the rising of emotion in response to the purity of his voice, the calling in the telling of his story in song.  Even in a different language I could still feel the meaning.  I’m getting teary writing about it.  Not from sadness but the exposure to such honesty of feeling.

There’s a brilliance in showing Gurrumul within a world so different to his own: being away from family, not speaking about himself – always Michael speaking on his behalf – because the Indigenous don’t speak about ‘l’, it’s always, ‘we’.  So, to leave on his own to go solo was a huge step.  But his to take; his life to share.

To have the opportunity to experience the world of Gurrumul, to be allowed into his community; into the life of such a private man from such a secluded community was to have my eyes opened (including that saltwater croc second eyelid!).

And the warmth of Michael and the team who put the documentary together have shared of piece of themselves for others to also see and enjoy.

A truly rewarding experience.

Human Flow

Rated: MHuman Flow

Director:  Ai Wei Wei

Producers: Andrew Cohen, Jeff Skoll, Diane Weyerman

Writers: Chin-Chin Yap, Tim Finch, Boris Cheshirkov.

Human Flow is a visual experience to be endured. A journey for the soul. A glimpse into the duty of care, and lack thereof, affecting our societies.

Forgotten places and forgotten faces reach out and I struggle to remain seated. To comprehend the magnitude of what film director Ai Wei Wei intended. The camera remains. Lost souls stare onto it, onto the abyss. Dignified, proud, hopeful. Despite everything.

Statistics and news headlines appear. Foreign voices makeshift the background. Subtitles demand the attention of the viewer. Everyone must seat and watch. There is no easy way out for us as there is no easy way out for the millions of refugees stranded across the globe.

Oceans of humanity flow, stretching as far as the next border, people like waves reaching for the coast, seeking relief after a long journey. Aerial views of makeshift camps. Tents set along trains never to halt. People resting on the side of the road. On the verge of tears. Vulnerable to disease, under the elements, moving ever forward with their loved ones. All borders shutting down.

The system collapses, numbers increase and countries build fences and walls with money that could be used in so many other ways. No questions are asked or aid provided. Left behind, human beings facing the most inhuman conditions in the history of our race.

Those who are victims of the circumstances, run for fear of persecution. Those who pushed them into exile remain immune. Those who watch, what are we? What am I, but a privileged voyeur? A far removed entity able to switch off my screen at any given time. Sheltered, fed, safe. Free. Ashamed of myself as I type these words. Dreading the moment I move onto the next thing, and forget.

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