Produced by: Aaron L. Gilbert, Jay Roach, p.g.a., Robert Graf, Michelle Graham, Charles Randolph, p.g.a., Margaret Riley, Charlize Theron, p.g.a., Beth Kono, A.J. Dix
Starring: Charlize Theron, Nicole Kidman, John Lithgow, Kate McKinnon, Connie Britton, with Malcolm McDowell, with Allison Janney, and Margot Robbie.
When a young ambitious woman looking for a promotion asks whether her humiliation of showing a little more than just her legs because, ‘Television is a visual medium’, will go further than the office of Fox News’ founder Roger Ailes, he replies, ‘I’m discreet but unforgiving’.
With lines stated like this and quotes from Donald Trump like, ‘You can’t rape your spouse’, there was plenty of real-life material here to make an uncomfortable story come to life.
Bombshell is the true story surrounding Fox & Friends co-host, Gretchen Carlson (Nicole Kidman) accusation and lawsuit in 2016 (that recent people!) against Roger Ailes for sexual harassment.
Rather than an expose style of film, director, Jay Roach uses an understated telling from the two protagonists, Gretchen Carlson and what really shocked the world, Fox News correspondent, Megyn Kelly (Charlize Theron).
Gretchen and Megyn talk through the camera to the audience to feel their struggle, of whether it’s worth risking everything to stop the abuse.
Multiple women are shown in still-picture with their stories noted underneath, all with the similar tale of being asked to, ‘prove their loyalty’ to Roger (and friends) through-out their careers
We hear the thought going through the mind of Fox News correspondent Rudi Baktitar when propositioned back in 2006, where sleeping with the boss is expected to get a promotion, each thought heard before she carefully choses her response, to be kind, to say no, only to get fired.
This was the expectation. This is the revelation of the film.
The third yet fictional character, Kayla Pospisil (Margot Robbie) is a representation of all those women put into an impossible situation of choosing between a dream career and humiliation, or losing that one chance at opportunity with dignity.
The drama of this unnerving story is in the performance – there’s nothing violent here. Just the destruction of being bullied by those not afraid to use their power, and the mentality that powerplay over others weaker is the normal way of things.
Nothing more needs to be said than seeing the fear in a woman’s eyes before a door is closed.
I’m not sure I can say this is an entertaining film, but Bombshell is a gripping story with a particularly impressive performance from Charlize Theron as her character struggles with the decision to stand up to a bully who has ultimately been the making of her career, or to stand and voice her story of sexual pressure and to help finally put a stop to the humiliation of other women.
Without having to be too tricky with the presentation, this is a linear telling of each milestone towards Gretchen’s ultimate success, each moment fought with every last bit of strength and determination because it’s enough.
Shaun the Sheep, mark 2 (ha, ha, like marking a sheep, although, I don’t know wether (ha, ha) everyone will appreciate the farming humour) finds the familiar mob of Shaun and mates: baby sheep, Timmy, Nuts the cock-eyed eccentric and of course, double the size, super-round tub of fun, Shirley, up to mischief on Mossy Bottom Farm and still under the watchful eye of ever vigilant farm dog, Bitzer.
The clay, stop-motion characters (on average, two seconds of animation produced, per animator, per day) never gets old; the woolly tails and gappy-toothed characters always able to make their feelings known without uttering a single intelligible word.
Here in, Farmageddon, a new character is introduced to the world of Shaun, Lu-La.
Lu-La may look like a purple and pink dog, but those ears glow and have special powers. Alien powers.
With UFO sightings comes Believers. And with Believers flocking (I just can’t seem to help myself) to Mossingham, comes the opportunity to make money.
Full of the usual antics that we’ve come to expect from the franchise, Shaun the Sheep 2 has that same humour with the added dimension of space. In other words, G-rated humour that had my nephews in hysterics – think, nasty bull accidently getting beamed up into a spaceship, looking aggressively unhappy.
And I admit, I was tickled about Farmer walking around in a jumper, woolly socks and bright red y-fronts.
After 150 episodes of the TV show, one TV special and, now, two feature- length movies, Shaun is still a lot of fun, here his world expanded with 70 sets making Faramageddon the biggest undertaking to date.
Due for release during the school holidays, this is a film you can take young kids without being a painful experience for the adults.
Produced by: Ram Bergman, p.g.a., Rian Johnson, p.g.a.
Starring: Daniel Craig, Chris Evans, Ana de Armas, Jamie Lee Curtis, Don Johnson, Michael Shannon, Don Johnson, Toni Collette, LaKeith Stanfield, Katherine Langford, Jaeden Martell, Noah Segan, Edi Patterson, Riki Lindhome, and Christopher Plummer.
Knives Out is a classic who-done-it that begins with the drama of violins playing as chasing dogs run from the rising gothic structure that houses the Thrombey family.
I love a movie that begins with dogs, this one with a wry hint of humour that continues as private investigator Benoit Blanc (Daniel Craig) investigates the mysterious suicide of famous multi-millionaire author, Harlan Thrombey after celebrating his 85th birthday.
Made like a familiar murder mystery, think, Murder She Wrote (a nod given as the mother of nurse Marta (Ana de Armas) watches transfixed in Spanish) or an adaptation of one of Agatha Christie’s novels, there’re the usual suspects, here a family, eldest daughter and self-made, Linda Drysdale, married to Richard Drysdale bearing trust-fund brat who refuses to grow up, Ransom (Chris Evans), along with Walt (Michael Shannon), the son who looks after the publishing business with no real work of his own… Then there’s widower and daughter-in-law, Joni (Toni Collette) and college-kid, Meg (Katherine Langford), living off hand-outs while hiding their dirty deeds. And let’s not forget grandson Jacob, the politically ambitious kid who spends too much time in the bathroom, probably masturbating to Nazi propaganda.
Then there’s nurse Martha. She’s the one who always beats Harlan at playing Go.
It’s a different genre from director and writer, Rian Johnson, his previous work, Looper (2012) (if you haven’t watched this action / sci-fi yet, you’re in for a treat) and more recently, Star Wars: The Last Jedi (2017) (one of the best to date, in my opinion) epic journeys that start in one place and finish somewhere completely different.
Instead of a journey, Knives Out is one of those stop situations where the characters are held in one place. So it’s all about the details of the setting, the entrance of house-keeper, Fran (Edi Patterson – also fantastic in the series, Righteous Gemstones) captured in the angle of a mirror, the trick window, the books and figurines and paintings that catch the eye while looking for clues. And the dialogue takes the mind in different directions, away from the central investigation as the family discusses racism or not being racist while handing nurse Martha a dirty dish to be put away.
So yes, it’s a murder mystery with clues dropped for the sharp observer as private investigator, Blanc pieces together the real story of the patriarch’s death, but it’s the wry humour and the distraction I enjoyed:
Martha answers her mobile, ‘Hi Walt.’
‘Hi Martha. It’s Walt.’
‘Hm.’
There’s a stellar cast here, although, I’ve got to say Daniel Craig’s southern drawl as Blanc dragged for me – brat Ransom even highlighting the annoying accent.
I wonder if it’s because I’m so used to Craig as Bond these days, with that British accent?
Evans was the highlight for me. And Jamie Lee Curtis as the dry eldest, self-important daughter. And Toni Collette perfected the quiet desperation of the self-help guru relying on hand-outs, hence the quiet desperation.
So, there’s quality here and attention to detail.
Some of the humour missed the mark, see above: the southern drawl.
Pain and Glory is a drama, a life story shown in monologue and intimate conversation.
Salvador Mallo’s (Antonio Banderas) life is filled with patterns and colours, water and tiles, suspension and scars.
The story of the film circles his life as he remembers teaching a young builder to read and write when he was growing up in the catacombs with his mother, as he remembers his career writing and making films and the past disagreements with friend and actor, Alberto (Asier Etxeandia) whom he hasn’t seen since the premiere of his most successful film thirty-two years ago.
He remembers as the pain of his ailments take pieces from him, his back pain, his migraines, his choking – he can’t create anymore, but he can remember.
This is a film that bleeds the present and the past so the trigger of smoking heroin with the man described, ‘You’re the opposite side of that text,’ Salvador falls, taking him back to the time when he experienced his first desire, his first love, the escape from the ‘bad ring’ of Madrid, to get away from the temptations of addiction to Havana and the Ivory Coast.
But sometimes, love isn’t enough.
He has no regrets. To recover from his past, he writes the story.
So the past and present are intertwined like his writing translated into this film.
Director and writer, Pedro Almodóvar has taken pieces from his own life, translating them into the film like the character Salvador makes films about his past.
The hair, the setting of the apartment the same as the man himself, Pedro.
Antonio Banderas has just won the Cannes 2019 Best Actor Award (the film selected to compete for the Palme d’Or) for his performance here. And I can see why. He just seems to get better with age. His humble sincerity a warmth felt through the screen. He’s endearing.
And there’s more to the film than a character study as the scenes cut from the bright sun shining through the exposed roof of the catacomb house, to the animation of red broken lines like the branches of a tree exploding in the drawn lines of a brain, a contrast to the quiet suffering of a man embarrassed of his pain, refusing to allow his housekeeper to tie his laces, wearing loafers, catching taxis, lying in the dark.
But there are no complaints as he loses himself in memory.
This isn’t a sad film, more a poignant tale of all the darkness and light in life – sad and happy and true.
The overriding feeling I got from this film was grateful: life can be cruel, but it can also be kind.
Featuring: Luciano Pavarotti, Placido Domingo, José Carreras, Bono.
Before even the first images appear, the cinema is filled with the chittering and warbling of birdsong, and I can only suppose that some kind parallel with Pavarotti’s voice is being drawn. In fact, when the vision comes up, I find myself swooping over the Amazon jungle looking down at the serpentine loops of the river.
As Pavarotti’s story unfolds, director and producer, Ron Howard, not only ushers us behind the scenes, but invites us onstage and even takes us on the road with the maestro. While Luciano Pavarotti may have been born with, ‘One of the most clearest and passionate voices, heaven on earth,’ it took a very earthly degree of physical exertion to fill an entire concert hall with a single voice. Without a microphone. Without an amplifier. And certainly, without speakers.
Despite a long induction emulating his father’s singing, Pavarotti initially qualified as an elementary school teacher. The decision to take on the long training to become a tenor was an enormous leap of faith, ‘You don’t become well-known in a day. You don’t know your destiny’.
According to his wife Adua Veroni, Pavarotti was not a person who ever planned things and that was certainly the case for his international debut. He took the stage as a stand-in playing opposite Joan Sutherland, but was more than a lucky break. Pavarotti was in awe and he believed that Sutherland’s breathing technique allowed him to become a serious professional. During a rehearsal, Sutherland invited him to feel the muscles in her diaphragm. Much to Pavarotti’s amazement, they were responding, even before Sutherland had sung a single note.
For the operatic tenor, the high C is the epitome, but it is not a natural range in the way a bass or baritone is and to achieve the fluency that makes it seem effortless requires more than talent. So, when Pavarotti performed nine high Cs, he created opera history. Likening it to horse jumping, when the Maestro of the High C was asked whether he knew he would be able to reach the note, he replied with a contrary smile: ‘No. That is the beauty of my profession’.
According to Placido Domingo, the art of the opera singer is to share the emotion of each particular word: ‘If you pronounce it well you get the rhythm immediately.’ For Pavarotti, it was a matter of technique: ‘You measure your breath’. The public will not know what you are doing, but they will feel it. But, for all of the art and the artifice, Pavarotti’s wife felt that he was so suited to his operatic repertoire because he was a ‘bumpkin’ at heart.
Then again, his eight-year-old daughter described her father as a thief, because he went to work each night with a suitcase full of fake moustaches and beards. For Pavarotti, ‘the opera is something fake that little by little becomes true’.
On camera Pavarotti seemed so confident and cavalier, but behind the scenes, before every performance, Pavarotti would lament, ‘I go to die.’ According to José Carreras, ‘The voice is a demanding mistress, anything will affect it’.
In his later years, Pavarotti performed with many contemporary musicians. While the focus is on his unlikely friendship with Princess Diana and Bono, he also performed with Elton John and Lou Reed among many others.
Little by little, Howard builds a lifelike portrait of an extraordinary life, but his documentary, overflowing with texture and detail, still cannot cram it all in.
Directed by: Gurinder Chadha O. B. E, Paul Mayeda Berges
Written by: Gurinder Chadha O.B.E, Paul Mayeda Berges,
Based on the book, ‘Greetings from Bury Park (2007)’ written by: Sarfraz Manzoor
Produced by: Gurinder Chadha O.B.E, Jane Barclay, Jamal Daniel
Executive Producer: Paul Mayeda Berges
Starring: Viveik Kalra, Kulvinder Ghir, Meera Ganatra, Hayley Atwell, Aaron Phagura, Nell Williams, David Hayman, Dean Charles Chapman, Tara Divina, Rob Brydon MBE and Jeff Mirza.
‘Tell the world something it needs to hear.’ That’s what Javed’s (Viveik Kalra) English teacher (Hayley Atwell) tells him.
And Javed has plenty to say being a Pakistani growing up in Luten in the 80s.
He writes poems in his diary. He just doesn’t think anyone’s ever going to understand him. Until Roops (Aaron Phagura) lends him two cassette tapes of The Boss himself: Bruce Springsteen.
I walked into, Blinded By The Light thinking there was going to be more comedy; and there’s some funny moments with the 80s style used well like the revelation of a hideous t-shirt described part Princess Diana and part Tina Turner…
But this is 80s England, with Thatcher in the midst of her third term, millions out of jobs and racism rampant.
It’s hard enough being a teenager without seeing some racist bastard pissing through the mail slot of the front door or spitting in your face.
The film’s also about family; the authoritative father, the trying to break away from all the expectations of parents and living in a home that has very different rules and expectations than the other kids in school.
I got reflective. And a little teary, I admit.
I was never exposed to The Boss growing up and never chose to seek out his music. Now, I seem to be coming across him a lot (see, Thunder Road).
The more I come across this guy, the more I realise the effect he’s had on people’s lives.
I grew up in the country. I know what it feels like to be trapped, to feel so weak you want ‘to burn down the town’
And like this expression, Blinded By The Light uses the music and especially the lyrics of Bruce Springsteen to give voice to Javed.
It’s like the music is speaking, just to him. Saying, singing everything he’s feeling so Javed sings the words to the girl he has a crush on (Nell Williams), to the people in his way as he runs with his mate and fellow fan, Roops from the school after they’ve set Springsteen playing over the school sound system, because yes, this is a musical, but it’s a hybrid of a musical because instead of using Springsteen just as a soundtrack, Javed sings Springsteen’s lyrics like a dialogue to say how he’s feeling instead of just, saying how he’s feeling.
So I guess, yeah it’s a musical.
It sounds like it would look stupid (the storm scene and discovery of Dancing in the Dark more like theatre than film), yet Viveik Kalra as Javed is such a sweetie, he gets away with it. And I appreciated the text on screen to show the lyrics to make sure the message was understood by the audience. I admit I didn’t realise Springsteen was so deep:
Blow away the dreams that tear you apart Blow away the dreams that break your heart
Blow away the lies that leave you nothing but lost and brokenhearted
The dogs on Main Street howl
‘Cause they understand
If I could take one moment into my hands Mister I ain’t a boy, no I’m a man
And I believe in a promised land.
I feel like there are a lot of these musical hybrid films around lately and I wasn’t completely convinced about The Boss obsession would make such a difference to a person’s life. That’s my cynicism speaking. Because the film is based on the true story and novel, ‘Greetings from Bury Park’ written by Sarfraz Manzoor.
Springsteen has read the book. After meeting Manzoor he said he loved the book and was happy for the film to be made. Seriously, what a legend.
Screenplay by: David Benioff, Billy Ray and Darren Lemke
Story by: Darren Lemke and David Benioff
Produced by: Jerry Bruckheimer, David Ellison, Dana Goldberg and Don Granger
Executive Produced by: Chad Oman, Mike Stenson, Guo Guangchang, Brian Bell, Don Murphy
Starring: Will Smith, Mary Elizabeth Winstead, Clive Owen and Benedict Wong.
Viewed in 3D+ (120 FPS)
After 72 kills, Henry Brogen (Will Smith) feels like his soul hurts.
It’s time to retire from the DIA and find something else he’s good at. Something where he feels like he can look in the mirror again.
But when he finds there are complications to his last assignment, Clay Verris (Clive Owens), head of the shadow group who turn soldiers into killers, AKA Gemini, isn’t going to make retirement an option: soldiers who grow old and discover they have a conscience are no longer viable. Clay stating: ‘Mutts like Henry were born to be collateral damage.’
Clay had planned ahead, cloning the best in the business so when Henry outlasts his use, there will be someone to take his place: Junior.
With Agent Danny Zakarweski (Mary Elizabeth Winstead) by his side, Henry fights for his life against the only adversary good enough to stand a chance at beating him – his younger self.
From Belgium to Colombia to Hungry, director Ang Lee has set up some amazing shots featuring motor bike acrobatics, intense fight scenes and explosions, all good action while leaving the violence implied (hence the M rating rather than the MA15+).
But the real point of difference is the tech. Not only is Junior a computer-generated creation (by Weta Digital), the whole film is shot in 3D at 120 frames per second (instead of the usual 60).
That extra resolution isn’t a gimic either. I have never watched anything so clear, so pristine.
I was glad the bloody was kept to a minimum as it would have been too much.
Instead, Ang Lee uses the tech to show shots underwater, looking up, and spits of sparks off helmets as bullets ricotte, as kerosene tins blow and to see those fight scenes between Henry and his clone so you feel like you’re right there with them.
What surprised me was how that clarity left no room for discord or error in the acting. There is absolutely no where to hide so any false expression or off-key moment would have shouted through the screen.
Instead we get Mary Elizabeth Winstead as the very likeable side-kick, Agent Danny; and Clive Owens as the fierce villain, Verris.
And Will is at his finest here, his sincerity coming through clear, his skill as a killer shot coming through like his role as Deadshot in Suicide Squad.
The more I see this guy, the more I like him.
It has to be said some of the humour felt like filler for the dialogue. Just a bit – more, I’m-happy-go-lucky in a tight spot and that’s funny, rather than, jokey jokes. If you get what I mean. Which probably fit the tone of the film which gets borderline soft cheese with that added bit of drama.
But I enjoyed the film. And really got into the visual difference on screen.
Ang even goes so far as to include a scene that shows a set used as a military exercise, shooting and explosions, to show the difference between fake and his actual movie that looked more genuine and authentic. Tricky stuff!
The whole film is filled with tricky that successfully leads to an entertaining movie.
Screen story by: Guillermo Del Toro and Patrick Melton & Marcus Dunstan
Based on the series by: Alvin Schwartz
Produced by: Guillermo Del Toro, p.g.a., Sean Daniel, p.g.a., Jason F. Brown, p.g.a., J. Miles Dale, p.g.a., Elizabeth Grave, p.g.a.
Executive Producers: Peter Luo, Joshua Long, Roberto Grande
Starring: Zoe Colletti, Michael Garza, Gabriel Rush, Austin Abrams, Dean Norris, Gil Bellows, and Lorraine Toussaint.
“Sarah Bellows, tell us a story.”
Scary Stories To Tell In The Dark pieces together the fabled fiction of Alvin Schwartz (who wrote the series), where screen story writer Guillermo Del Toro (along with Patrick Melton & Marcus Dunstan) hang the film on the idea that: “Stories can hurt, and stories can heal”.
Set in 1968 where, ‘If it’s in the newspaper it has to be right,’ but really there’s a lot wrong, like the Vietnam War and the fact Stella’s (Zoe Colletti) mum has left her with her dad (Dean Norris); Stella’s only friends in the world, Chuck (Austin Abrams) and Auggie (Gabriel Rush).
But having buddies makes life easier to live until they decide to show new-kid-in-town Ramón (Michael Garza) the Mill Valley haunted house. On Halloween.
The story of the haunted house being the young daughter, Sarah Bellows was a child killer. That she killed the children of Mill Valley who listened to her scary stories on the other side of the wall of her locked room.
Her family hid Sarah away because they said there was something very wrong with Sarah.
So when Stella finds Sarah’s book of scary stories in the haunted house, she thinks it’s a good idea to take it home to read. She’s a writer too.
Then new stories start appearing in the book. New scary stories like, ‘Who took my toe?’. It’s worse than it sounds. Particularly when the stories start coming true.
Scary Stories To Tell In The Dark feels like one of those coming-of-age movies but really, it’s a scare-fest with body parts that come to life and bugs crawling out of empty eye-sockets.
The monsters are impressive with director, André Øvredal not holding back on the nightmarish imagery, while adding subtle details like the skin chewed around Stella’s fingernail.
I was absorbed and surprised as monsters came to life in cornfields and glaring red-lit corridors… But then the film became a crusade.
The story still holds and hey, it had to go somewhere; but I just couldn’t put myself into the shoes of Stella because there didn’t seem to be any fight or build to the strength of her character. How did this kid suddenly get to be so strong?
Original Album Produced by: Aretha Franklin, Arif Mardin, Jerry Wexler
Originally Recorded Live At: The New Temple Missionary Baptist Church, Los Angeles.
A documentary filmed in 1972, Amazing Grace is the recording of Aretha Franklin singing in The New Temple Missionary Baptist Church, Los Angeles, a live recording that became the highest selling album of her career and the most popular Gospel album of all time.
The footage was never released because the sound couldn’t be synchronized – in the documentary, Reverend James Cleveland actually says, ‘Give the technician a big hand for the difficult.’
But without clappers or marks to guide the sound to sync with the video, Sydney Pollack, the original director, was unable to release the film.
Until now.
With digital technology, Alan Elliott, Jerry Wexler, and Pollack were able to match the sound to picture to make the documentary out of raw footage.
Recorded over two nights, the documentary gives a backstage pass back in time, and it feels like it with the 70s style, sweaty faces and running glitter.
The filming itself is basic with out-of-focus shots that slowly clear to tears and joy and crew in the background – it’s all so very raw but somehow that step back in time has given the film something else.
What the album doesn’t have is seeing that choir sing, to see the audience cry and fall in the aisle at the purity of Aretha’s voice.
‘She can sing anything,’ explains Rev James Cleveland.
And there’s nothing wrong with the sound.
I kept having to remind myself this was all recorded live. This is what Aretha’s voice actually sounds like, the soul of it so clear on the faces appreciating the moment in the church.
There’s real joy here. The glow felt through the screen, making me smile, making me feel something glow.
I was smiling all through the film. This blurry, badly shoot film.
And, there’s a story.
What you don’t get from the album is the fear you can see in Aretha’s eyes.
This is a recording of an album that opens a door to Aretha’s life. She wanted to go back and sing the songs from her childhood where she sang gospel at New Bethel Baptist Church where her father was a minister.
And her father makes an appearance in the documentary, speaking to Aretha, to the church. It’s like her past and present come together. No wonder she looks nervous.
Added to her performance is the effortlessness of the musicians – the piano playing like breathing, the bass playing in the intermission, the choir director, Alexander Hamilton keeping the whole performance together – shots of the singers in the choir from side-on to see the voice issue from their hearts. And Rev Cleveland introducing the audience to the church, keeping the vibe cool, keeping it real, keeping it together while singing his spirit. I just couldn’t help but love the guy.
This is the footage that’s been buried for decades.
To hear and see Aretha issue that ‘stone’ voice, it’s sanctified.
And one of those experiences where you wish you were there – with this documentary, you get a taste.
Produced by: Sarah Thomson, Nick Batzias, Virginia Whitwell, John Battsek
Key Interviewees: Adam Goodes, Stan Grant, Brett Goodes, John Longmire, Tracey Holmes, Nova Peris, Nathan Buckley, Nicky Winmar, Eddie McGuire, Linda Burney, Gilbert McAdam, Andrew Bolt, Paul Roos, Natalie Goodes and Michael O’Loughlin.
“I believe racism is a community issue, which we all need to address and that’s why racism stops with me” – Adam Goodes
Terra Nullius. That’s what Lt James Cook declared during his voyage around the coast of Australia in 1770: no one’s land. Empty land. A land without people.
And because of this declaration, England claimed the land without recognising the civilisation who had lived here for sixty thousand years: the oldest and longest known living civilisation in the world.
On the fringes of my understanding of Australian history, I grew up knowing the Aboriginals were here first. We were taught a little about some stories – I remember some picture books in primary school; hearing a little about the atrocities in high school; knowing of the complete genocide of Aboriginal people in Tasmania. To think that an entire population was wiped out is horrendous and perhaps why the past has been buried so deep.
The Australian Dream is a documentary about Adam Goodes, Brownlow Medallist twice (2003 & 2006) and one of the most decorated football players of all time.
But this documentary isn’t about a sporting legend, this is about a man who stood up to a country and said: racism stops with me.
The backlash against his stance filtered through even to my ears – a person who doesn’t really follow footy (but barracks for the Tigers and always will) – because the media explosion following his stance to take no more racial abuse caused a howl that’s been buried under a casual racism Australians have been a part of for hundreds of years.
Ignorance was brought into the spotlight and the people did not like the idea of an Aboriginal man standing up to a long-standing status quo.
The Australian Dream is a powerful documentary that hit me hard because it finally gives voice to a history people, Australians, don’t want to take ownership of. Not all Australians, sure. But it has to be said our history seems to be acknowledged more outside of the country than within.
It’s seeing the context of the situation that gives understanding of the heavy weight this footballer decided to take on.
And seeing the behaviour of spectators towards Indigenous players in the past, like Nicky Winmar, is shameful.
After the invasion, the lack of acknowledgement of the people already living here, the policies put in place in an attempt at trying to fix a bad situation only made it worse.
Adam himself says his upbringing was difficult, his mother doing her best, moving close to relatives only to move away because of the alcohol abuse, the violence; an environment of, ‘broken glass and mangy dogs.’
But the Aboriginal people survived despite the history of thinking the Indigenous people would just die-out while living in intense poverty, losing connection to their way of life, to the taking of their children to assimilate into the society of those who invaded their country, to make them white, to have to fight to be even recognised as people.
To be called an ape on the football field, when you’re the star.
Putting the audience into the shoes of Adam for just a moment makes the conversation of racism in Australia very hard to ignore.
Director, Daniel Gordon has a background of making films about the cultural significance of sport including, Hillsborough (the Hillsborough Stadium Disaster) and ‘9.79*’: an investigation of the infamous and controversial 1988 Seoul Olympic men’s 100m final, won by Canadian sprinter Ben Johnson, who was subsequently stripped of his gold medal after testing positive for performance-enhancing drugs.
And there’s a statement from Walkley award winner, journalist, Stan Grant stating, “Sport has a way of really capturing the essence of what’s happening in society.”
This is a brilliant example of a nation’s attitude brought into the spotlight, and how carrying this terrible burden, one that in 2015 caused Adam to quit playing the game he used to love, has made a change in attitude towards Indigenous people. And yes, the original people of this amazing country.
There’s some balance here, as the film shifts from the personal journey of Adam to journalists talking about the circumstances and reasoning behind the constant booing and hate from the spectators directed towards Adam on the field. Andrew Bolt from, The Bolt Report explains you call out a young girl, you call a war cry to the crowd, you’re bound to get a reaction.
As Stan Grant says, about the spectators’ response: Adam made the mistake of being an angry Aboriginal.
And he’s right. When a culture has been systematically forgotten, why should we listen.
To hear Stan tell of his time reporting overseas from places of terrorist attacks and hate, to return to the Lucky Country to hear about the racial tension surrounding Goode. He was shocked. Provoking him to write his landmark essay , The Australian Dream(QE64 – November 2016).
He states, ‘As this man retreated from the field Australia was forced to confront the darkest parts of its own history. Black and white we are all formed by this. We carry the blood of each other in our veins. Yet, we meet across a vast divide.
This wasn’t about sport; this was about our shared history and our failure to reconcile. Some sought to deny this, some to excuse it – to explain it away – but when thousands of voices booed Adam Goodes, my people knew where that came from.
To us it sounded like a howl: a howl of humiliation that echoed across two centuries of dispossession, exclusion, desegregation. It was the howl of people dead on the Australian frontier; killed in wars Australia still does not speak about. It was the howl of people locked up: a quarter of the prison population is Indigenous. It was the howl of hungry children; women beaten and men in chains.’
When put into context, how would I feel to cop racial abuse from the children of the invaders who raped, killed and stole children? Still, in living memory and from the time when my mother was young? Would I take abuse, as a person, let alone a brilliant athlete, the best in the game while playing that game?!
I think I’d retaliate with more than a war cry.
But this a powerful film because it’s a hopeful film.
Adam isn’t about retaliation. The message of the documentary is one of reconciliation.
“What we saw ultimately was the true measure of who we are. It wasn’t the booing; it was the people who stood up to the booing. It can never be too late. it can never be too late for that. Our history is a history of violence and racism and it’s a history of people over coming that. People reaching across that divide.” – Stan Grant
Aboriginal history is an oral history – to teach when people are ready to listen.
