| The end of certainty - MattRiviera.net (21may09) |
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It can't be easy winning Cannes' Palme d'Or with your first short film. How do you top that? Glendyn Ivin's Cracker Bag took home the top prize in 2003 and this year his feature film debut Last Ride confirms the promise we saw back then and establishes Ivin as a talent to watch.
The
film's pre-credit sequence features a 10 year-old boy moving through
the silent cars of a parking lot a rifle in his hands, humming gently to
himself. The tone is set: mysterious - questions come up sooner than
they are answered - and not a little dangerous (is that a real
rifle?)...
Petty criminal Kev (Hugo Weaving)
and his son Chook (Tom Russell) are on the run. Seeking refuge first
with an old flame (Anita Hegh, sensational), then in the anonymity of
the open road, the pair can rely only on each other for
survival. Scavenging for food and stealing cars, they make their way
deeper and deeper into the Outback, through landscapes as harsh and
unforgiving as their circumstances.
What Chook
misses and clearly longs for is a home (he's even shown building a house
of cards to kill time), but beyond the events which might've sent him
running, Kev is the sort of man for whom nesting is abhorrent. By turns
protective and violent, Kev demonstrates a knack for cruelty which
threatens his son's trust - the key engine of both the duo's
relationship dynamic and the film's narrative.
Doing
away with exposition, screenwriter Mac Gudgeon makes the correct choice
of revealing the story and motivation behind the runaways' actions
slowly and in short, shocking glimpses. As a result the film demands -
and gets - our undivided attention. It helps that both Hugo Weaving and
newcomer Tom Russell deliver engrossing performances, creating
believable characters who share a chemistry that never feels forced.
Weaving
manages to make us feel more than repulsion for his unsympathetic
character by reaching for hidden emotional depths, showing us glimpses
of what could have been, had life been kinder to him. Unpredictable and
violent one moment, thoughtful and kind the next, he presents a complex
portrayal of fatherhood which may resonate vividly with some viewers.
Opposite him, young Tom Russell holds his own, getting across a potent
mix of innocence and resolve, careful not to use the cute kid angle to
pull at the heartstrings.
Shot in jaw-dropping
widescreen by cinematographer Greig Fraser, Last Ride
mines the Outback for all its menacing but poetic worth. When the duo
arrive in the vast, desert-like expanse of South Australia's shallow
Lake Gairdner, the road dissolves into an endless horizon. In other
words, the straight line of certainty makes way for an open-ended blank
slate in which every direction is a possibility. At this point the film
momentarily achieves a state of vertiginous grace which stays with the
viewer long after the end credits.
Following
in the tracks of other road movies exploring the myth of Australian
masculinity (from Backroads to Cactus), Last Ride asks
tough questions about responsibility... and delivers rewarding answers.
It does so by borrowing with remarkable intelligence from Aboriginal
culture (Kev claims that his ancestors were blackfellas): from genesis
stories told around a campfire to ideals of self-sufficiency and being
at one with nature, not to mention borrowing the walkabout as a rite of
passage from childhood to adulthood.
The
tough love of fatherhood, taken to violent extremes here, seeks to
transmit a strict idea of manhood while teaching hard lessons to fit a
hard life. Though the film is bleak in its outlook, its conclusion
provides an uplifting truth: that by taking responsibility for our
actions, we can both learn from our fathers and disobey them when the
time comes, thereby forging our own, independent identity.
The
father describes the pair as mongrels, and Last Ride,
it can be argued, is indeed first and foremost about identity. The
central question here is the clash between what is inherited and was is
learned, between the values transmitted from one generation to the next
and the experiences which can allow these values to be contradicted.
At
work in this deceptively simple film is perhaps a quest to define not
just masculinity but Australian identity as a whole: the product of a
criminal past and a violent upbringing, the rejection of age-old
traditions coupled with a silent yearning for civilization, the constant
struggle for social harmony in an inhospitable land.
In
the hands of more fearless filmmakers, this coming-of-age film could've
been a masterpiece. It comes short because it cares too much about
audience expectations. Adapted from a novel by Denise Young, the
screenplay is a little too tight: everything that happens later in the
film is carefully set up in the first half so that the savvy viewer is
able to guess - earlier than is intended - both the reason for the
runaways' escape and the inexorable resolution they are heading towards.
Stylistically,
the film could have benefited from longer takes and fewer cuts, from
letting the mysterious and mystical force of the landscape fully
permeate the proceedings. Narratively, it would have gained from
resisting the predictable reward of a morally sound ending. Despite its
flaws (which, in the context of current Australian film sensibilities,
might be seen as strengths), this is a ride well worth taking. This
journey into the darker recesses of our collective psyche may not always
be pleasant (reminiscent, in this sense, of Cormac McCarthy's
apocalyptic novel The Road) but it is one from which we emerge entirely
strengthened.
----
Last Ride screens at the Sydney
Film Festival June 7th before a national release on July 2nd.
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