Thirst (1979)

How familiar are you with your ancestry? In this day and age, it isn’t as important as it may have been historically, right? That is unless you are Kate Davis, the female lead in Day 12’s selection of 31 Days of Horror, Thirst! Turns out her lineage is very important, indeed; maybe not to her, but definitely to a group of elite aristocrats who need her DNA to bolster their power over society! 

Mrs. Barker tries (for like five seconds) to convince Kate to come to the dark side.

To you and me, it would seem Miss Davis (Chantal Contouri) is just like any other ordinary person, although she is perhaps a little more well-off than most. She works hard, and has earned the extended vacation she’s about to take. Unfortunately her boyfriend Derek is unable to go with her, but she’s an independent woman of today and will enjoy her vacation nonetheless. But of course, she never makes it to her destination; on her way out the door she is kidnapped and taken to a remote complex in the Australian countryside where horrible things happen…

After coming to, Kate is informed that she is related to the one and only Elizabeth Báthory (The Countess’s second appearance this October). Her bloodline affords her a cushy spot atop “The Brotherhood,” an elite and secret society of aristocratic bloodsuckers. If only she could let go of her pesky morals, she could join forces with other aristocratic, bloodthirsty families to create a powerhouse that the anemic proletariat could never overcome.

They’re even getting Kate’s cat into the mix.

Unfortunately for The Brotherhood, Kate is a headstrong and independent woman, and converting her will not be an easy task. The higher-ups of the group are fighting about the best way to help her in changing her mind. Mrs. Barker (Shirley Cameron) favors an extremely aggressive approach, using hallucinatory drugs to achieve her goals. Dr. Fraser (David Hemmings) believes this tactic will be not only very expensive, but may also drive Kate crazy. Both of them try talking sense into Kate, showing her around the “farm” and introducing her to the “blood-cows” (human livestock) that are privileged enough to donate their life force to vampiric royalty. Is Kate strong enough to resist the her inherited Thirst?

Ah, milking the blood-cows. What a privilege!

I’ve seen Thirst three times now, and every time I’ve been impressed with it. It is a serious vampire movie that seriously critiques modern society, but I never felt like it was selling ideology. While films like Society and They Live tackle similar territory, they have a hell of a lot more laughs than Thirst does. Usually I’d say that’s a hefty nail in a film’s coffin, but director Rod Hardy really makes it work here. Perhaps part of the reason why it works so well is instead of a usual black and white, poor vs. rich situation, the main conflict is actually between rich folks themselves. This isn’t just a film about rich people literally sucking the life out of the lower classes, it’s also about indoctrinating other rich folks deemed worth to come to their side. That’s what makes this movie a little more interesting to me: it’s not really saying much to show that the aristocracy makes its living (and derives its pleasure) from the lower classes; it’s been that way for centuries. But exploring the infighting between the rich themselves, at least in terms of how the lower classes are treated, is less-covered and more interesting territory.

Bloody chicken!

So, yes, Thirst has a lot to say, and I think it says it well. It also looks great; the special effects (well, okay, the blood) is super-duper, and for the most part not too in-your-face (though perhaps the shower scene is a little bit much… it also explains why I let the water run for a second before hopping in!). There are some genuinely frightening scenes as the good doctors push their psychological agenda on Kate. Watching her constantly tortured expression while also wondering what the hell is going on is a pretty good fright-cocktail, and Contouri does an excellent job of earning my empathy. I do think, though, Shirley Cameron’s Mrs. Barker outshines her with one of the most gleefully evil portrayals I’ve ever seen; a real rich bitch I took an immense pleasure in hating!

Yes, you should see Thirst. If you have any real interest in a different sort of vampire tale, this is your guy. It’s not subtle, but why the hell would you look for a subtle vampire flick?

Patrick (1978)

I once had a quest to watch all the Australian horror I could get my hands on. Then I saw a Mark Savage movie and decided perhaps I didn’t have to be so completist about everything. This is going to sound strange coming from me, but sometimes it is in fact good to have standards. At any rate, this quest first introduced me to Patrick, and it blew me away the first time I saw it. Now, I don’t want to spoil things for you, but the second time it wasn’t as awesome as I’d remembered it, but it still stands up as a pretty decent horror flick. Anyway, they’re always better with Aussie accents.

Brain-dead Patrick. Or is he?

Patrick is one of those guys who kills his mom and her lover and never quite recovers from it. The boy’s been in a coma ever since the “accident” happened. The doctor and nurses at the hospital where he resides believe him to be brain dead, and some of them even debate on whether or not it’s a good thing to keep him alive. That all changes when Kathy, a young woman recently separated from her husband, gets a job there. Though the battle-axe head nurse Matron Cassidy begrudgingly offers her the position, she makes no secret of her distaste for the newly ‘liberated’ woman’s situation. Kathy takes what she can get though, in the name of independence.

Clearly Cassidy has it out for her, because she assigns Kathy to room 15, a room she won’t even consider going into herself. This, of course, turns out to be Patrick’s room. Most of the nurses are used to Patrick’s room by now, what with the weird, seemingly random spitting episodes and his empty stare. They have no trouble going about their business while watching him, changing his bed, administering medications, etc. But Kathy is a little different; in fact, she thinks Patrick’s brain is still very much alive.

Kathy doesn’t know what she’s in for.

First, it’s just a feeling Kathy has. Patrick seems to be listening. Then, suddenly, her typewriter starts sending her messages that claim to be from Patrick himself. Soon, she asks Patrick to communicate with her; a spit twice if yes, once if no kinda deal. When Patrick follows her directions, Kathy has a hell of a time getting any of the staff to listen to her concerns. It doesn’t help that her personal life is in such disarray; the neurologist she’s dating can be kind of a dick, and her husband keeps turning up in her apartment! But things are weirder than that; it almost seems as though Patrick is jealous of the men in her life as strange things start happening to them. Can Kathy prove Patrick is using telekinetic powers to control his environment, or will everyone think she’s just a tramp and a quack?

A surprisingly good little flick, which might be the reason why it stood out in my head as really good the first time I saw it. I wouldn’t say it’s really good, but

Nurse nasty nun.

it is better than average, and definitely worth a watch. What it is really good at is creating a legitimately creepy atmosphere with plenty of what-the-fuck moments, which is always a nice thing to have in a horror movie. Patrick’s stare is definitely the stuff of nightmares, and the filmmakers do a great job of maintaining the atmosphere throughout the whole film. A fast-paced gore-fest this is not; it shouldn’t surprise you to hear it’s more of the psychological thriller than a straight-up horror flick. The plot reminded me a bit of Romero’s Monkey Shines, which wasn’t made until a decade after Patrick. It definitely does different things, and scares in different ways, but there is an undeniable similarity there.

The drag is, I’ve only ever seen the film with the original score. It looks like there’s an Italian version out there with Goblin doing the soundtrack, and I can only imagine that makes the movie 10 times better, especially considering there are moments where the original score isn’t so great. So, if possible, get your hands on that version, and let me know how it is!

Ned Kelly (1970)

Ned Kelly lurks

I suppose it goes without saying that movies about national heroes who were, in all likelihood, not the awesomest people in the world, are probably not going to be very good. Take the case of bushranger Ned Kelly, for instance. Born to an Irish father transported to Australia for stealing two pigs, Ned Kelly continued to pay for his father’s venial sins, as did so many other children of transported convicts in the early days of Australia: the law enforcement and rich English settlers of Australia exercised extreme prejudice against the children of transported criminals, so folks like Ned Kelly didn’t have much of a chance at succeeding in life, even if he did opt for the straight-and-narrow.

There are, of course, many versions of the story, and the 1970 film Ned Kelly, starring Mick Jagger is just another drop in the bucket. Here, Kelly is portrayed as a kind soul who is imprisoned for theft in

The Kelly home

what seems to be an extreme sentence: the law enforcement have a point to prove, and an example to make. Ned and his family are the prime target, and no matter what they do, the cops never cease harassing them. Ned has no choice but to take to the bush and live life constantly on watch, running from the police and stealing for a living. The story, of course, doesn’t have a happy ending – Ned Kelly is eventually found, tried and hanged.

Whether or not Ned Kelly should be lauded as a folk hero or condemned as a criminal is irrelevant to the fact that this film just isn’t very good. It sure as hell couldn’t convince me that Ned Kelly was a good guy. Heck, it couldn’t even really tell a cohesive story. Instead, it relied on the soundtrack – songs written by Shel Silverstein and sung by Waylon Jennings – to tell the audience the background, the sentiment of Australia, and the outcome

When Ned Kelly looks in the mirror, what does he see? Mick Jagger’s beard.

of the story, because it was incapable of evoking any emotion whatsoever out of the audience on its own.

This was just a hard movie to watch. And, not unlike the 2003 film of the same name starring Heath Ledger, it’s just too one-sided to really be any good. It tries, at times, to do some interesting things, but it’s all done very poorly. What would be interesting to see is a film about Ned Kelly that actually delves deeper into the ramifications of transportation than the archetypal law bad, bushranger good dichotomy we see here. Oh wait, I saw that movie, it was Nick Cave’s The Proposition! Sure, it’s not exactly about Ned Kelly, but it’s close enough, and it’s much better than this.

Where the Green Ants Dream (1984)

Protesting.

In Where the Green Ants Dream, Werner Herzog takes on the plight of the Australian aborigines. I can think of no recipe more sure to yield sorrow and misanthropy. And, just as I expected, Herzog delivers a filled-to-the-brim bedpan of injustice.

The story is simple: a mining company is looking for the next big commodity. The on-site geologist, Lance Hackett, is expected to take care of a lot of tasks that aren’t really in his job description, most notably dealing with the human element of the project. Aside from the batty old woman who camps out by his trailer waiting for her lost dog to come home, Hackett must deal with a group of indigenous people protesting the exploration of their land. They believe this particular parcel of land is where the green ants dream, and if we disturb their sleep it will mean the end of mankind as we know it.

Hackett seems exasperated at first, but he begins to study more about Aboriginal culture, and actually tries talking with some of the protesters about their beliefs. Hackett’s attitude turns around, though not wholly; after all, his livelihood is dependent upon the company’s success finding whatever it is their looking for on this land. Eventually, the Aborigines take their case to court. A court, of course, of white men who answer to The Crown. While the whole court knows the right thing

In court. No one understands his language, because he is the last of his tribe.

to do is to stop the company from exploring on Aboriginal land, the law disagrees, and so the Aborigines lose the case.

There are, of course, subtleties involved that make this story a lot more compelling than any synopsis can. There are plenty of classically-Herzog philosophical monologues that inevitably get you thinking about the nature of colonialism, the “ownership” of land, and the seemingly futile struggle indigenous peoples the world over are left to fight. It will make you both sad and angry, but it is definitely a film people should see. It’s easy to forget that the modern world is still relatively new, and the repercussions of our way of life are unknown.

Flirting (1991)

Danny’s characteristic smirk.

Flirting has been quietly waiting in my Netflix queue for years. Usually, it loses out to a horrible horror film with a terrible name, but I finally decided, after the last few duds, to put this one up to the top. I should have done it years ago!

Set in an Australian boarding school in 1965, Flirting centers around Danny, a stuttering smart-ass obsessed with Camus, and his budding relationship with Thandiwe, the daughter of a

Thandiwe looking for her date.

Ugandan intellectual (whose classmates, I should mention, include a young Naomi Watts and Nicole Kidman). Both Danny and Thandiwe know what it means to be outcasts.

Their schools are separated by a lake, across which Danny longingly looks imagining the possibilities the other school offers: girls. The two meet at a debate about man’s greatest

Nicole is *not* impressed…

achievements, which Thandiwe scandalizes by reading off risque rock’n’roll lyrics. The affair blossoms and grows amidst rigid boarding school rules and racism.

The word charming has never been more apt. This is one of the cutest, sweetest movies I’ve ever seen, and I mean that in the best way possible. What could be more fantastic than watching two “intellectual misfits” (thanks for the label, Q) fall in love? It helps, of course, that it’s Australian (something about those Aussie boarding-school movies really gets me). It was very easy indeed to give this one the five-star treatment.

 

 

Picnic at Hanging Rock (1975)

Miranda is a swan. I get it.

Before I write about Peter Weir’s Picnic at Hanging Rock I have to confess something: I fell prey to its mythology as so many other people apparently have and believed it was based on a true story. This simply is not so, though it seems Joan Lindsay, the author of the novel on which this film is based, kept the story’s origins as ambiguous as possible, and Weir seems all too happy to perpetuate the mystery.

Of course, this approach makes sense: the film tells the story of an unsolved mystery, so why shouldn’t the film also be shrouded in mystery? Set in 1900 at Appleyard College, a finishing school for girls in Victoria, Australia, Picnic at Hanging Rock focuses on twenty-or-so young women dressed in white frills, stockings and lace. The stern Mrs. Appleyard has graciously offered the girls a special Valentine’s Day gift: a chance to picnic at Hanging Rock, a local rock formation down the road. She warns the girls to be wary of the poisonous wildlife, and not to explore the rock too much, and informs them they’ll be back for a “light supper” at eight.

What a lovely place for a picnic! Ants on your tea cake!

Returning to the college on time would have been easy, except for everyone’s watches stopping at dead noon while at Hanging Rock. Miss McCraw, the mathematics teacher, assumes it must be something magnetic causing the watches to stop. Four girls ask their teacher for permission to explore the rock on their own, and when granted Miranda (a “Botticelli Angel”), Irma, Marion and, hesitatingly for all involved, Edith, skip off together for an adventure.

The girls are not the only people to be found at the rock; there are two adults and two young men, unrelated to the school, who are also there. The two men, one a rough-and-tumble Aussie named Albert and the other, Michael, a prim and proper boy, witness the girls crossing a stream. Michael is rather taken with Miranda’s beauty, and is prompted to follow them, but quickly loses them after they cross the stream.

The girls climbing the rock.

At a certain point in the afternoon, the entire group is overtaken with sleep – all those at the base of the rock, except, apparently, Miss McCraw. The girls on the rock also end up napping, but soon Miranda, Irma and Marion wake up and drift off deep into one of the rock’s many recesses, despite Edith’s grating pleas to stay put. This prompts Edith to run down the rock, screaming: and on the way, she bumps into a skirt-less Miss McCraw. Edith of course wakes up everyone at the base of the rock, and all are hysterical about the fact that the three girls and Miss McCraw are missing without a trace.

I’m not spoiling anything by telling you that three of the four

Uh-oh, the stockings are coming off…

remain missing forever; this film is not about answers. What is this film about, then? Well, I think it is about the young girls and their budding sexuality in the Victorian age in the context of a strange, untamed land. In the first few scenes of the movie we see shots of girls lacing up each-others corsets and reading innocent Valentine’s Day cards to one another. Once the girls get onto the brutish rock they’re compelled to remove <gasp!> their stockings. The girl that is found is “perfectly intact” (meaning of course that she has not been raped by an Aborigine or some other unspeakable horror) but her corset is mysteriously missing. Miss McCraw is seen running

That looks like a fun place to be.

up the rock in her undies. Is the rock some sort of liberation from the confines of Victorian society? Are these women casting off Victorian ideals and embracing the wild nature of their new home? Or is it darker than that? Is it a cautionary tale that the civilized world does not belong in the harsh landscape of the outback? Is the stark contrast between the girls and the landscape supposed to evoke the inherent strangeness of the British living in Australia, a land so alien to their home?

All in all, I really enjoyed this movie, but at times I was bothered by some of the heavy symbolism, the flute-heavy soundtrack and the constant references to Miranda’s angelic nature. Still, this movie’s kind of awesome, even if it’s a bit dated, and it should probably be on your must-see list.

Celia (1988)

If it’s true that all the best movies involve Commies and outcasts (and certainly it is), Celia’s got a lot going for it. It has been on our watch-list for about six months, but it wasn’t until I found out it was Australian horror that it became must-see. The words “Australian” and “horror” go together extremely well, but turns out movie isn’t really a horror movie – though horrible things do indeed happen.

This movie is set in 1957 Australia, amidst both the red and rabbit scares. The story centers around Celia Carmichael, a young girl whose best friend is her Marxist grandmother, whom Celia finds dead in her bed in the very first scene of the movie. Not the ideal way to start off a young girl’s summer holiday; all Celia wil have to entertain herself is a daily trip to the pet store to gawk at the pet rabbits, and a fairy tale book about the Hobyahs, evil monsters who creep into town at night and prey on innocent citizens. Her overactive imagination gets a break when she meets her new neighbors the Tanners.

One of Celia’s most prized possessions: grandma’s mask.

Celia becomes fast friends with the family of five that moves in next door, and they quickly become her allies in her strange, ongoing war with her supremely bratty cousin Stephanie and some other kids from town. Unfortunately for Celia, though, it soon comes to light that her neighbors are <gasp> Communists. Horrified and disgusted, Celia’s father not only tries to bribe her away from the Tanners with a bunny rabbit, he tells his cop brother (Stephanie’s father) about Mr. Tanner’s party affiliation, and soon after Mr. Tanner finds himself jobless.

This puts quite a lot of pressure on Celia’s already strained relationship with her father. She doesn’t seem to trust or respect him, and continues to run with the Tanner children. It’s clear now the other group of children are chastising the Tanners for being Communists, and Celia for associating with them, though the young kids really have no idea what any of it means.

Bunny, Mask, things are okay… right?

All the while, the Australian government has decided to take action in regards to the rabbit problem, and demands all pet rabbits are relinquished to the government. Celia holds on to her pet rabbit as long as she can, but not long after the Tanners are forced out of town, her Uncle John comes to claim her pet rabbit, attempting to placate her anticipated rage with a new puppy. The puppy doesn’t cut it, and Celia’s absolutely beside herself.

Celia is a very intelligent, tenacious and open-minded young girl, brought up in a very closed-minded social setting. For much of this movie I was impressed with her character, and also with Rebecca Smart’s portrayal of her. I must say, the turn of events at the end

She don’t mess around.

definitely threw me for a loop, and though I watched it probably a week or so ago, I’m still not sure how I feel about it. This is a pretty classic coming-of-age tale, as the poster touts it is “a tale of innocence corrupted.” Indeed, the movie starts out with Celia finding her grandmother’s corpse, and it’s a spiral into adulthood from there.

Honestly, I am surprised I hadn’t heard of this movie sooner, the subject-matter itself is interesting, and on top of it it’s Australian! I’m not sure how it escaped my radar, but I definitely recommend this.

The Proposition (2005)

Arthur Burns points gun.

Dirty. Sweaty. Bloody. Beautiful. Must be a movie about Australia! But of course. The Proposition is set in 1880’s Australia, a time when policemen went unchecked, and would virtually stop at nothing to apprehend the bushrangers and other outlaws that were number one on their wanted list.

Ray Winstone plays Captain Stanley, just such a police man, with one thing on his mind: bring the Burns brothers down. Problem is, Arthur Burns (Danny Huston) lives in the outback, in caves where even Aborigines are afraid to go. Stanley decides he needs to be a little more “creative” in his means to capture the eldest Burns brother, and so presents the middle brother, Charlie Burns (Guy Pearce) with the eponymous proposition: go kill your older brother, and I’ll save your youngest brother Mikey from being hanged on Christmas day.

Charlie Burns points gun.

Charlie used to run with his brother, but could no longer handle the senseless violence, and left. Mikey is young, naive and above all innocent – and so Charlie’s choice is made. He grabs a gun, a horse, and rides off into the sunset in search of his brother.

Meanwhile, back in town Stanley’s mental and physical condition deteriorates. Not only is he having trouble apprehending Arthur Burns, who has just committed unspeakable crimes against a “good, English” family – he’s also having issues keeping the nature of the crime a secret from his delicate English flower of a wife Martha (Emily Watson). Worse still is the constant watch of Eden Fletcher, a dandy if I ever saw one, insisting that Stanley do a better job of “civilizing” Australia.

Captain Stanley points gun.

I’m no expert on Australian history, but if I’m to believe what I’ve read in Robert Hughes’s The Fatal Shore, much of what is portrayed here isn’t far from reality. The police would stop at nothing to bring order to the lawless outback. Convicts and their children were often the target of such quests. Perhaps the Nick Cave fan in me is just rationalizing the violence in this movie, but honestly I felt it wasn’t out of place. What is so out of place are the English themselves – with their delicate tea sets, Christmas turkeys, and diamond earrings. This might actually be my favorite element in the movie; the constant bother of the Australian fly on the unnecessary English imports; the dirt and sand on the once shiny English boot.

What can I say, I love this movie. As I’ve mentioned already, it’s got the same dirt and sweat that seems to be a common feature in Australian movies (remember Wake in Fright?). Add onto that Guy Pearce (who is particularly awesome in this), a Nick Cave screenplay and soundtrack, and absolutely gorgeous shots of the outback and what’s not to like? Anyway, the words Australian Western go together so well, don’t you think?

 

Long Weekend (1978)

After watching Wake in Fright I was pretty insistent that our follow-up film should be Long Weekend, another Aussie “horror” film. This time, though, it’s not the locals to worry about, it’s nature herself!

Long Weekend centers around Peter and Marcia, a married couple experiencing some serious issues. It’s clear straight from the beginning they pretty actively dislike each-other. So what’s a couple that hates each-other to do on a holiday weekend? Peter & Marcia had planned to spend it with another couple, but bow out at the last minute favoring a “long weekend” alone with each-other on a remote beach.

The couple drives through the night, barely speaking to each-other, in search of the beach. When Peter stops off to buy beer, he asks the locals how close they are. The locals have no idea what “beach” he’s talking about. Considering how nasty Marcia’s been lately, it’s understandable why Peter opts to keep her out of the loop and drives along, telling her they’re almost there.

They drive through mud and brush until they finally give up, saying they’ll find the right spot in the morning. Marcia wakes up to a fully-erect tent, and Peter chopping down a tree because, well, “why not?” As the day wears on, the couple’s assault on nature continues: Peter shoots blindly into the water and tosses a beer bottle into the ocean, Marcia mercilessly sprays insecticide on invading ants and steals an eagle egg, oddly cradling it and carrying it all over the place.

Tensions between the couple mount, and we get some hints as to why there’s so much marital strife. Aside from their internal issues, the couple starts to feel very strange about their environment for the weekend: a harpoon gun accidentally goes off and nearly takes off Marcia’s head, a just-defrosted chicken grows mold, and an eagle attacks Peter.

This is another movie that kept me thinking what the fuck is going on here? Marcia and Peter are both pretty despicable people, not just in how they treat each-other, but also in their blatant disregard for their environment. Watching nature wreak havoc on them is pretty enjoyable. Similar to Wake in Fright, the landscape is its own character, here with its own motives. The movie maintains a very subtle tone that keeps you wondering, and I dig that.

Wake in Fright (1971)

When Nick Cave says a movie is “[t]he best and most terrifying film about Australia in existence,” you stop what you’re doing, buy tickets, and go see it as soon as possible. Also known as Outback, Wake in Fright is indeed terrifying, but probably not in the ways you’re assuming.

John Grant is a schoolteacher who has been posted, quite against his wishes, to the small Outback town of Tiboonda. His landlord Charlie laughs as he bids John goodbye, knowing that despite what John says about leaving forever, he’ll be back again in just a few weeks, just like always. John is very much looking forward to spending the Christmas Holiday in Sydney with his beautiful, blonde girlfriend; all that stands in his way now is an overnight stay in Bundunyabba and then off to the city he flies. When he arrives in “the Yabba” he is immediately accosted by the local law enforcement. “New to the Yabba?” Jock the cop asks, insisting John drink beer after beer with him while he shows him around town.

Crazy eyes “Doc”

Eventually we make it to the local “restaurant” where Grant is promised to have “the best steak ever.” It’s there he sees what the locals do for fun – place bets in a back room on coin toss after coin toss. Joe leaves John to his own devices, and that is where John first meets “Doc” Tydon, awesomely played by Donald Pleasence. John, who has exhibited an uppity attitude ever since setting foot in Bundunyabba, sneers at the locals for their simplistic nature. But once he gets enough beer in him, he joins in on the fun and wins a crap-ton of cash. He grabs the cash in his fists and runs out of the restaurant and back to his hotel room, thrilled to have made such a killing. It’s there he looks at his schoolbooks and throws them against the wall in disgust. “Just $1,000 more and I’ll never have to go back!” And so he returns to the back room to gamble in hopes of winning a new life.

Unfortunately for poor, drunk John, he doesn’t win. In fact, he loses every damn penny he’s got to his name. In the morning he leaves the hotel and has nowhere to go; he’s got no money and misses his plane to Sydney. He stops in another bar and meets Tim, another local exhibiting aggressive hospitality: insisting that John drink, again, beer after beer with him, even though he can’t buy Tim drinks in return. After they get sauced, Tim again insists that John come to his home and stay with him, saying “we’ll figure it out, have another beer!”

Drink up, Johnny!

At Tim’s house, John meets not only Tim’s extremely sour (but promiscuous!) daughter Janette, but also Dick & Joe, Tim’s best buddies. When the boys show up it is a non-stop drink-a-thon; beer after beer is cracked open, and the men give John hell for talking with Janette instead of hanging out with the boys. One thing leads to another, and it’s not long before Janette has John “out back” for a walk, where she throws herself at him. John’s response is to… vomit. He wakes up to more drinking, and our old friend Doc joins us again, this time insisting that John spend the night at his place.

What follows are a few more days of hazy, sweaty, dirty debauchery which culminates in a vicious, drunken kangaroo hunt (and a warning to all potential viewers, the footage in the film is from an actual kangaroo hunt and is quite difficult to get through). Finally, after days of waking up too late to catch the train due to extended nights of drinking, John wakes up desperate enough to attempt to walk to the next town, or at least to hitch a ride closer to Sydney.

Nowhere to go.

This movie isn’t just about a guy who loses all his money and ends up stranded in the middle of nowhere – it’s about madness, desperation, guilt, and desolation. It’s about man’s relationship with nature. It’s about insiders vs. outsiders. There’s nothing outright frightening here, it’s more psychologically affecting. The locals are hostile, but not without exhibiting the utmost hospitality. The landscape is unforgiving, and like many Australian movies I’ve seen most of the characters are constantly caked with dirt and sweat. Perhaps the scariest feeling this movie evoked in me is the idea that no matter what direction you go, there’s just more of the same heat, sweat, and dirt to greet you – there’s no escape.

There’s a lot of nuance I’m not capturing here, but I’m okay with that, because I think everyone should watch this (you just might have to fast forward through the kangaroos!), and what fun is it to watch a film you already know everything about? Just know two things: Donald Pleasence will knock your fucking socks off, and yes, Charlie is played by that guy from Crocodile Dundee.