Gunning down the exploitation debate

Exploitation cinema has been around for ages. Made famous by of course one of its quintessential directors and propagators Roger Corman, around at the more famous part of the global film community – Hollywood. Sex, violence, and all that triggers those chills, thrills and spills within you, are showcased within the magnified boundaries of the silver screen. The most long lasting effect it entails is none other than the familiar questions surrounding its horrifying degraded qualities and its frightening usefulness to the film industry. If you agree that Easy Rider (Dennis Hopper, 1969) is a teenage – motorcycle – exploitation flick, than you could be well on your way to champion the effectiveness of such exploitation cinema while still having some ammunition for the case against the claims of horrifying degraded qualities secured within your limited armoury. The same could be said for Australia’s very own Mad Max (George Miller, 1979).

However, the quality of exploitation films do little to pose too much of a concern, because frankly speaking (and I’m sure the films speak for themselves) they more often than not have very little of it. What is more important is whether or not these films, which most of the time portray cinema in the darkest of lights, have benefited national cinema and the film industry as a whole. Take Mad Max for instance – A fearsome Mel Gibson, clad in vicious looking leather, bolting through the desert land in an equally daunting, menace of a car. Exploitation? Cars – Motorcycles – Gangs and Guns – Macho male and a whole load of ‘exotic’ outback sand – Yes! Good film? No doubt. But what is most important is its role in building the Australian film industry. Money? Made for only 400,000AUD and garnering an eventual 100million from worldwide sales, good old trusty Wikipedia tells us that: “it was a major financial success.” And: “the movie held a record in Guinness Book of Records as the highest profit-to-cost ratio of a motion picture, conceding the record only in 2009 to Paranormal Activity.” So what’s so bad about it all? Well sadly for films like Easy Rider and Mad Max, ‘exploitation cinema’ is usually synonymous with B – grade films that never really end up being as good as them, thrusting all those carrying forms of exploitation with them right through to the common negative stereotypes. But, again there are buckets load of cash to be gained from making these films, which could in turn help the industry. Only logic and reason would dictate that richer filmmakers and producers can afford the choice between quality and quantity, or even both. Plus with the figures in hand and shotgun – wielding – Max Rockatansky for backup, who are we to stand against them.

 

Sequence Analysis: Beneath Clouds

I’ve always thought of the task of analysing the film Beneath Clouds as one too daunting to undertake. It is TOO brilliant a film, in my opinion, and I am still slightly afraid that I might do it injustice by presenting a wrongful interpretation of it. However, I find that as an obsessive lover of this film, it is my duty to attempt a dissection and thorough read of it. My excuse, would be that its director Ivan Sen, after all the work put into the creation of this beautiful and almost impeccable piece of work, would like to see it being appreciated through an effort of identifying and reading every bit and piece of its construct. Of course a thorough analysis of the entire film would be a little too much for this humble blog entry, so I will review a sequence from it and try to tie it with the ideas and themes that I THINK are echoed in this film.

Here we go…

Lena and Vaughn’s journey is symbolic not only of the search for identity and belonging that they are forced to delve into, it also signifies the status and place of Australian identity today. It works tirelessly to inform us that we are still in search for our identity, the meaning of that identity as well as for recognition and identification. The vastness and monstrosity of the Australian landscape is emphasised without any clear signs of exaggeration, and yet it does so well to display the extreme loneliness of the characters. We are immediately reminded of the role of this extravagant piece of nature in the Australian lifestyle and culture, and we instinctively think of the impossibility of the task that Lena and Vaughn are undertaking. A truly disturbing thought that implies the blatant hopelessness we tend to create towards the prospect of seeing one achieve self identification, recognition and security.  The film forces us to pay such close attention to representatives of minority communities that we have so often failed to sufficiently acknowledge. The absence or void surrounding Lena and Vaughn can only be symbolic of the ignorance or disregard we have towards the existence of the various minority groups. It toys with our sense of security and community as it reminds us of the loneliness rendered to the neglected. The characters Lena and Vaughn are such a powerful presence to us. We are constantly driven to look beneath the skin, behind the almost expressionless faces to seek out their thoughts and feelings, to pay due attention and care for these representations of the minority cultures. The very fact that we learn so much from the simple few words that they utter from time to time is testament to how much we do not know of them as well as the people and place they represent. Very often almost half of the entire frame is taken up by the beautiful and almost dream like sky and clouds, is this a reminder for us to remember the role of the aboriginal and their aboriginal and their cultures and beliefs, the significance of dream time? What I am sure of is that it adds to the idea of ambiguity, the same uncertainty that plagues our sense of identity in this period of transition. Its omnipresence becomes a statement of intent, a demand for acknowledgement and a place in the Australian community and at the same time a warning against intrusion of their own place and identity.

On a lighter and more optimistic note, our very ability and tendency to feel for both Lena and Vaughn and sympathize with them may very well indicate that we are on the right track in this journey of searching and providing recognition as well as finding a wholesome Australian identity for all.

 

Concept Analysis: Suburbia VS The Bush

As far as documenting the Aussie suburban life goes, Lantana (Ray Lawrence, 2001) is a great example. Big in scale, simplistic yet beautiful in form, complex in nature and deeply metaphorical in meaning -Much like the Australian landscape and nature, from which the film draws many parallels and references as well as its title. It is a film which carefully and quite brilliantly showcase the lives of a number of individuals, all of whose lives are in their own ways as complex and intricate as the paths and events that link their relationships to one another.

The significance of the Australian landscape, indelible and almost indispensable to the Australian culture, is given due importance alongside the portrayal of suburban life. The lantana bush, appearing as innocent and innocuous, hides away its innate viciousness, disguising its pricks and thorns behind the intricate twines and pretty leaves that surround it. Lying dormant in various parts of the suburb, it becomes the metaphorical message that underlies as well as drives the film’s plot. The lantana bush becomes the symbol of suburban life, as portrayed in the film, resembling the vicious lies and painful insecurities, sadness and jealousy that haunt the characters underneath their very own fabricated disguises. The film explores the theme of relationships, aligning it with ideas about adultery, divorce, happiness, love and loss and even (homo)sexuality. Each of its characters plays out a particular aspect or possibility that constitutes the mentioned theme. Claudia plays a policewoman fond of a man she hasn’t met, Nik and Paula play a young married couple, Leon and Sonja play the older married couple, Pete plays a homosexual who is dating a married man, Jane is the divorcee and John and Valerie the couple bereft of their child. Each one of them is as complex as the very fraction of the theme that they represent, not to mention the interwoven paths and relationships between one character and the other. When Valerie, the therapist who had been helping Sonja and Pete with their problems, is gone missing, almost everyone in this complex web of relationships are affected. As Leon investigates the case, the hidden personalities, lies and deceit associated with the characters are slowly dug up.

When it is finally revealed that it was not murder and that Valerie had fallen off a cliff after running through the bush in the dark, one is led to remind him/herself of the significance and monstrosity of nature, of the hidden pricks and thorns that can work to harm and even kill. The message resonated through Valerie’s death emphasises the importance to look beyond the surface and behind the appearance, to not be afraid to free oneself from the clutches of the past and our fabricated lives. It takes its course in becoming the turning point in the lives of the characters. It becomes the agent through which truth, reconciliation, faith and emancipation are attained. More importantly, it seeks to remind us that the role of nature can be just as overwhelming as it is overpowering. Its significance, like the prowess of the landscape that has often been undermined and even forgotten, thrusts itself onto the forefront of our minds, and a haunting thought about land, occupier and nature is called to surface.