Tabla de contenidos para No. 184 en Metro

The positive popular and critical reception of Jemaine Clement and Taika Waititi’s What We Do in the Shadows (2014) and Gerard Johnstone’s Housebound (2014) vividly illustrates not only that New Zealand horror cinema is at the top of its game, but also that it has achieved this through its sense of humour. Whether it is the classic Bad Taste (1987) by fellow New Zealander Peter Jackson, or the early (non-Kiwi) precedent Bud Abbott and Lou Costello Meet Frankenstein (Charles Barton, 1948), horror–comedy hybrids are certainly not new. In the case of Housebound, the strength of this union stems from Johnstone’s particularly strong utilisation of generic ingredients, which he reinvigorates through his astute awareness of both horror precedents and current audience tastes. Both critics and viewers have been in full agreement…

When your web series1 centres on the lives of two narcissistic hipsters voicing their opinions on clubbing, brand names and the health benefits of cocaine, translating this to a television format is going to prove a challenge. As characters, Bondi Hipsters’ Dom Nader (Christiaan Van Vuuren) and Adrian Archer (Nick Boshier) channel every possible criticism and accusation of hypocrisy that has ever been thrown at Generation Y. They resent wealth while simultaneously craving it; they will happily talk about saving the environment, then flick a cigarette butt out the window. While they spend much time talking about their hatred of The Man, they still have no qualms accepting his money to fund their start-up fashion label. The characters have proven so popular that they’ve been used as brand ambassadors for…

Reigning on a throne of violence and debauchery, Takashi Miike is an exceptional presence in world cinema. At the turn of the millennium, he exploded from the film underground and into the spotlight for festival-goers globally with the release of Ichi the Killer (2001). The film challenged the conventions of the yakuza subgenre, and courted controversy both in Japan and on the international film-festival circuit. But, while his depictions of heavy violence have inspired condemnation,1 he has also attracted a cult following that has supported him throughout his prolific career. Miike’s early productions, popularised as examples of the so-called Asia Extreme subgenre, challenge Western sensibilities, drawing in audiences intrigued by Miike’s violence as spectacle. Offering potential ‘transgression[s] of social or aesthetic norms’,2 Miike’s body of work incites reflection, and his…

South Korea’s fastest-selling independent release in 2013 was Lee Su-jin’s Han Gong-ju,1 a film that rubs salt into one of the contemporary world’s deepest wounds: the treatment of sexual-assault victims by a society more concerned with saving face than with justice. Han Gong-ju brings into focus the burden that a victim must bear, which is made worse by a society that is closed off and indifferent. Lee’s feature-length directorial debut takes up this issue, furthering the discussion engendered by Hwang Dong-hyuk’s The Crucible (2011) and Lee Chang-dong’s Poetry (2010), which deal with similar themes. Han Gong-ju is well composed and carefully crafted, evidencing a filmmaker with many tools under his cinematic belt. Though some aspects of the narrative smother the film’s more nuanced depictions of its protagonist’s journey of rehabilitation,…

George Johnston spoke candidly about his novel My Brother Jack and its significance in his life when he won the Miles Franklin Award in 1964. He told Wilfrid Thomas in a radio interview that he had rejected Australia, and that it, in turn, had spurned him after he made the decision to leave in 1951: ‘There didn’t seem to be an appreciation for writing, theatre or art even though there were some things happening.’1 But, with My Brother Jack, Johnston declared that he ‘rediscovered Australia’2 – and Australians likewise rediscovered him, with the novel being one of the most popular works of fiction in Australia to this day.3 The continuing popularity of My Brother Jack is further evidenced by the fact that it has been adapted for television twice. In…

In many ways, The Legend Maker (Ian Pringle, 2014) feels like a legend breaker. It’s a film intrinsically about modern Australia and our obsession with national identity, and from its very first images makes it clear just how artificial such a concept really is. The camera pans over passports, and we see skilful hands preparing the photographs, inks and lettering needed to create them. Gradually, we come to realise we’re looking at the handiwork of a forger and, as we see the ‘official’ documents that ‘prove’ our nationality taking shape, we realise there’s no difference between those and the ‘real’ things. Patriots may parrot the myth about nationality being an immutable bedrock of certainty, but The Legend Maker demonstrates that this concept is not just malleable but also for sale.…

The ABC’s Mental As campaign was a huge endeavour for the public-service broadcaster. Held from 5 to 12 October last year, it featured a variety of programs across platforms and genres that ‘challenged the stigma and started a national conversation about mental health’.1 Mental As was developed by the ABC following a joint campaign by producer/writer/presenter Andrew Denton, psychiatrist and 2010 Australian of the Year Patrick McGorry, and economist David Bassanese. Writing for The Australian Financial Review, Bassanese explained the idea behind the campaign, recounting his experiences with his young daughter Camille and pinpointing how he was struck by the lack of existing research into and understanding of her condition and treatment. He was moved to try and do something to address this: As a child of the 1970s, I…

Few Australian films are as deserving of detailed reappraisal as Charles Chauvel’s 1955 outback drama, Jedda – ‘deserving’, that is, both for its intrinsic merits and for the significance of the cultural and industrial contexts from which it derived. Rose Lucas’ potently argued account attends to both of these matters. She is alert to the craftsmanship that Chauvel brings to bear on this story of interracial – and other – conflict, set in the daunting beauty of the Australian landscape, and she makes a compelling case for the film’s importance as it reflects on aspects of the country’s past. The word iconic is too much used these days, but Lucas is right to employ it here because the film has acquired such standing in its representation of, say, racial and…

Aussie ‘summer romance’ drama Love Is Now (2014) – starring Eamon Farren as grief-stricken photographer Dean, who cycles through the New South Wales Harvest Trail alongside free-spirited love interest Audrey, played by Claire van der Boom – is unique in terms of both its method of filming and its local distribution strategy. I speak to writer/director Jim Lounsbury and producer Behren Schulz about their film. Oliver Pfeiffer: What did you want to explore with Love Is Now ? Jim Lounsbury: Over the course of the last decade, I’ve worked on a number of projects and this is one of those stories that just kept coming back. It’s a love story that has elements of psychological drama. The lead character, Dean, is going through grief after having lost…

After opening the 2014 New Zealand International Film Festival, The Dark Horse received a warm reception from local cinema audiences and ended the year by cutting a swathe through the New Zealand Film Awards (the Moas), picking up most of the top prizes, including Best Film. Written and directed by relative newcomer James Napier Robertson, the film draws an unlikely connection between chess and Maori tradition to explore the notion of identity. Set in the provincial New Zealand town of Gisborne, The Dark Horse is inspired by the real-life story of Genesis Potini, a junior speed-chess champion who had an instrumental role in establishing the Eastern Knights Chess Club for disaffected young people from the local Maori community. Potini’s struggle with bipolar disorder is integral not only to the way…

The Code debuted in September last year to positive press and impressive ratings, and even won several awards, including Best Television Drama Series, at the 2015 AACTAs. It’s not difficult to see why. Superficially a solid attempt at the kind of slick cyber-thriller we normally expect from Hollywood, it also taps into the zeitgeist of anti-government sentiment, growing concerns about the role of technology in our society, and the way in which our communities are run and monitored by authority. As with those in most thrillers, the events in the series are driven by a MacGuffin – in this case, a collection of files revealing pharmaceutical company Physanto’s secret work on a chemical weapon. Its discovery, an unexpected result of a leaked story about an outback road accident involving Indigenous…

‘There’s a lot going on in China these days, some of it more absurd than anything you might find in a novel or film,’ Diao Yinan says,1 as background for Black Coal, Thin Ice, which won Berlinale’s top prize, the Golden Bear, in 2014, and was a staple of that year’s film-festival circuit. With that idea in mind – the truth being forever stranger than fiction – this film, which began with Diao’s desire to depict a detective tale, grew into something more ambitious: an attempt to ‘create a true representation of [China’s] new reality’2 by way of genre. In his third feature, the director uses the familiar beats of the murder-investigation narrative to dig deep into the contradictions, complicity and toxicity of modern China. Employing genre as a means…

Many a great myth begins with a prelude, offering up a statement that solidifies its background. Fargo (The Coen brothers, 1996) starts with white text on a black screen, the words ‘This is a true story’ announcing the veracity of the narrative to follow. With three more sentences, the proclamation continues: The events depicted in the film took place in Minnesota in 1987. At the request of the survivors, the names have been changed. Out of respect for the dead, the rest has been told exactly as it occurred. So starts a cinematic telling of a plot seemingly stranger than fiction, recounting a kidnapping-for-hire and an accompanying ransom-grab gone wrong. The feature’s scenario is instigated by a car salesman (William H Macy) with dreams bigger than working for his unkind…

The promotional poster for Amin Palangi’s 2014 documentary Love Marriage in Kabul is simple yet arresting. A close-up of a woman’s eye, decorated with thick sweeps of silver, pink and bronze eye shadow – a look typically sported by Afghan brides – dominates the frame; her eye is closed, perhaps weighed down by her heavy makeup. But Fatemeh, the young woman whose eye adorns the poster, is someone we don’t hear a lot from in the documentary. As Palangi notes in a radio interview, it’s difficult to film women in Afghanistan as traditionally they’re not meant to be in front of the screen.1 Indeed, to many viewers, there is much about her home country that has long remained off-limits, much that has been shut off from outsiders’ vision. In its…

Much is made of the fact that Hollywood is forever under invasion by Australian actors. In 1997, Russell Crowe, Guy Pearce and Simon Baker ‘stole’ pivotal roles in Curtis Hanson’s L.A. Confidential. The forthcoming blockbuster Terminator: Genisys (Alan Taylor) stars our very own Jason Clarke and Jai Courtney, and even superheroes aren’t safe, with the likes of Wolverine, Hulk and Thor having been played by Hugh Jackman, Eric Bana and Chris Hemsworth, respectively. But this invasion is almost exclusively one-way. Australian cinema is less likely to see international stars flocking Down Under in pursuit of fame and fortune. When big actors head this way, it’s usually as part of a big Hollywood production – Keanu Reeves for The Matrix (The Wachowskis, 1999) and Tom Cruise for Mission: Impossible II (John…