ARTS 2062 – Australian Film and Television – Research Report

In the following report, Stephan Elliot’s film The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert(1994) and Ana Kokkinos’ film Head On(1998), will be described and discussed through the lense of Queer spectatorship theory. Through technical investigation and textual analysis of both these Australian films, comparisons will be drawn on their representations of queer characters and the relationship they have to contemporary Australian culture. Furthermore, through the close (and queer) reading of the films, the challenges they present to earlier notions of masculinity and sexuality in Australian cinema will be considered in order to argue that both films, in their own particular and individual discourses, provide an alternative, unique and empowering perspective for queer (and non-queer) Australian audiences and act as canonical examples of queer Australian film.

To foreground this argument one must begin by looking to the work of cultural studies and film theorist, Brett Farmer. In his article, The Fabulous Sublimity of Gay Diva Worship, Farmer explains that his experience of being ‘outed’ as a child was not due to same-sex desire but his passionate devotion to women, that primarily being, actress Julie Andrews. This revelation, he explains, was followed by more and more ‘bad’ object choices that were inconsistent with dominant modes of sexual selfhood.  He calls this (still quite common)process, a failure to achieve ‘heteronormality’.[i] He explains that ‘diva worship’ has been a vital staple in gay male cultural production, where it has sustained a spectacularly diverse array of insistently queer pleasures, as the act of worship is a type of ‘therapeutic escapism’ from the often antagonistic surroundings that a queer person may be experiencing. Farmer goes further by coining the phrase and concept of queer survivalism – whereby a child or adolescent attaches themselves to a cultural text or object passionately to make themselves feel better, and to read and learn more about themselves and their emerging identity.[ii]

If we are to apply this notion to Elliot’s film, it is true, through the representations of ‘Tick’, ‘Ralph’ and ‘Adam’ and their Drag queen alter egos ‘Mitzi Del Bra’, ‘Bernadette Bassenger’ and ‘Felicia Jollygoodfellow’  that this is the ultimate case of Diva worship in Australian cinema. While Farmer suggests that diva worship can be measured by the collection and consumption of cultural texts and merchandise, it could be argued that the act of emulating or creating a Diva alter ego, in itself, is a powerful performative act of worship. In The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert we witness transsexual ‘Bernadette’ and homosexual drag queens ‘Mitzi’ and ‘Felicia’ embark on a journey across the Australian outback to use their diva talents (which have been their primary source of income) to entertain new audiences outside of their hometown Sydney. The expedition which takes them to outback locales such as Broken Hill, Coober Pedy and finally Alice Springs, enables Elliot to confront and explore issues associated with homosexuality and masculinity and its relationship to contemporary Australian cinema and culture.

Throughout the journeys’ of the characters in the film, and the external journey that the film takes the spectator on, Elliot exposes the misconceptions, prejudices, stereotypes and fears related to homosexuality from both the ‘outsiders’ perspective and from within the drag entertainment sub-culture. By placing Bernadette, Mitzi and Felicia in the harsh Australian outback in full drag costume, Elliot allows the full visual force of glamorous feminine potency to be juxtaposed with the tough, rugged, vast and unforgiving landscape, mirroring the tensions present in the social relationships between them and the different townsfolk. There are several instances where the outrageous outfits and make-up provoke homophobia from certain individuals in the towns and even leads to the near violent bashing of Adam/Felicia. These incidents within the film highlight not only the fear of the ‘other’ evident amongst some outback residents but act as a broader comment on the presence of homophobia in Australian society at large.

In contrast, Elliot also comments upon issues and tensions within the contemporary gay community through the sharp-tongued and acidic dialogue between middle-aged Bernadette and younger drag queen Felicia. The constant bitter bickering between the two ‘divas’ (often diffused by Tick/Mitzi) act as a spring board for the film to reveal to the audience issues relating to gay male promiscuity, drug and alcohol abuse, gay parenting, male effeminacy, sexual re-assignment and gay nightclub culture. The exploration of these issues and ideas, amongst a new backdrop, work to emphasise how vastly different the two worlds are, and illustrate the division of sexual identification by dominant modes of cultural and filmic representation. This overt visual confrontation, that Elliot depicts, highlights to his audience the different challenges faced by the queer community but also works to subvert earlier notions of sexuality and masculinity.

Apart from the three main male character’s own individual sites of female identification, (Tick as a cosmetic salesperson and ‘show-biz’ performer, Ralph as a post-op transsexual and Adam as a devout ABBA fan and fashion connoisseur), the idiosyncrasies of masculinity play out and are subverted in far more interesting ways than just devotion and mimicking of women. One example comes in the form of the character of ‘Sheila’, the butch female Broken Hill local who refuses to accept the presence of the queers in her town pub. Her slang vernacular and outright dismissal of the drag queens perhaps symbolises and epitomises masculine power and perceptions of homosexuals but is played by a female actor. When Bernadette then goes on to finally win a drinking battle against Sheila, she is praised and commended by the male locals of the pub for matching the strength shown by this butch or masculinised female.

However, perhaps the most interesting example where masculinity is subverted is through the outback character Bob, played by well-known and respected Australian actor, Bill Hunter. It could be argued that the casting of Hunter played an important role in this film as his many previous roles in Australian film and television depicted him as an ‘all round’ masculine ‘Aussie bloke’. To see the sub-plot of the character Bob, view his idolised ‘mail-order’ bride with shame and then eventually establish a romantic and sexual relationship with transsexual Bernadette would have had a profound impact on Australian audiences and their perceptions of accepted or conventional pairings.

From a technical perspective, the film presents these thematic ideas and challenges in what could be called ‘Camp aesthetic’. Susan Sontag[iii] believes Camp sensibility to be a love for the unnatural – valuing artifice, stylization and exaggeration. She argues that Camp has ‘an affinity for certain arts, fashion, furniture, visual décor, cosmetics and emphasizes sensuous textures’[iv]. This is visible through the mise-en-scene employed by Elliot in his film.

Costume designers Tim Chappel and Lizzy Gardiner played on the aesthetic of Camp by incorporating shimmering materials, sequins, faux fur, and other synthetic textures with iconic symbols of the Australian environment and culture, including native flowers, Emus, Lizards, the Opera House, flip-flops and blundstone work boots, earning the film the 1995 Oscar for best costume design. Contributing to the overall camp aesthetic includes the exaggerated acting styles of the three entertainers, the bright ‘show-biz’ lighting design and the heavy pop-disco flavoured soundtrack. Perhaps the most iconic trope evident in this film which is now ingrained into popular Australian culture is the ‘Follie’ opera scene, whereby along the long stretch of outback dirt road, Felicia is perched upon a giant stiletto on the roof of the bus, mouthing the words to Sempre Libera (Always Free) in La Traviata by Giuseppe Verdi.

This can be linked to a vastly different scene in Philadelphia(1993) discussed by Farmer whereby he describes the passionate encounter between the diva and the gay male devotee as a signal for the rapturous breakdown of conventional systems of textuality, meaning and representation. It is a ‘situation’ or moment of ‘hysterical excess’ of extreme passion and outrageousness – a powerful point of transcendence where the constraints of sexual, social, and textual normativity are refused and space is opened for alternative visions and structures of meaning. This is further reinforced by the visually stimulating repeat of the scene later in the film. These diva performances, and others throughout the film, are a sort of ‘acting out’ by claiming the authority of the diva. By embracing and illustrating this queerness, Elliot is opening up his characters and spectators from the limiting scripts of subjective normativity to other forms of sexual and social selfhood. This, Farmer argues, is where queers activate their own senses of self by engaging in multiple and sometimes conflicting sites of identification.[v]

Therefore, the performances Elliot constructs in the film can be a restorative production of renewed subjective meaning and queer empowerment. The diva is nothing, if not a consummate figure of self-authorization, a magisterial image of triumphant identificatory production – blazing her way across the cultural landscape in defiant disregard of the orthodox conventions of social discipline and patriarchal injunctions against feminine potency. The Diva is fabulous, marvellous and astonishing and extends to her devotees untold possibilities for empowered selfhood[vi] – hence the enduring appeal for queer culture, audiences and also, to an extent, the Australian film industry at large.

Turning this concept of diva worship (as the main site of gay male identification and spectatorship) slightly on its head, is Ana Kokkinos’ 1998 film Head On. Adapted from Christos Tsiolkas novel Loaded(1995), this film tells the story of ‘Ari’ and his struggles with his ethnic and cultural background, employment and sexuality, in inner city Melbourne. What is interesting and groundbreaking about this film, and its relation to contemporary Australian culture, is that it presents a narrative with a protagonist who is not only of non-white-Anglo descent but also a homosexual. Not only that, 20-year-old ‘Ari’, in fact breaks the mould of many stereotypical images and tropes associated with both his cultural and sexual sub-cultures. The main point of difference between Ari and the protagonists in Elliot’s film is the portrayal and construction of masculinity.

While the drag queens are self-proclaimed diva worshippers, Ari, is a tough, strong-headed, stubborn, bold, and at times, reckless young man who presents himself to the community and his family as heterosexual. He refuses to follow the path of his ancestors and peers (marriage, mortgages and children) and rebels against these cultural traditions and expectations with an anti-authoritarian attitude; indulging in frequent coarse language, promiscuous and risky sexual behaviour and also drug and alcohol abuse. What is interesting about this particular characterisation is that it shares elements associated with Tom O’Regan’s notion of the ‘Ocker’. In this sense, Ari acts as a typical straight mixed race Aussie bloke with a ‘hedonistic outlook’, aggressive in his bad manners, sex and drinking[vii] but is (as is explicitly depicted by Kokkinos) a young gay man. This seeming dichotomy presents to Australian audiences a new visual identity and opens up for increased identification with queer spectators.

This characterisation is constructed in many various ways. The tracking shots and close-ups of Ari, along with his voiceover narration and the casting of heterosexual actor (and emerging Australian film and television ‘star’) Alex Dimitriades are some of the basic filmic techniques Kokkinos uses to enable this secondary identification with her spectators, however, one could argue that the more interesting technique at work, during some of the more sexually explicit scenes in the film, is the primary identification or the cameras narration. Christian Metz[viii] describes this as a sort of exhibitionism that allows audiences to become a voyeur without recognising themselves as one. In the extended masturbation scene towards the beginning of the narrative, audiences are only aware of Ari’s actions through suggestive close-ups and sound effects, until Kokkinos moves to a wider-lower angle shot where full frontal nudity becomes suddenly apparent and ‘assaults’ the viewer. This direction, it could be argued, relates to Linda Williams study of body genres.

Head On could fall into two categories that Williams discusses; porn and melodrama. These genres, she argues, are excessive and sensational with the body as a spectacle; caught in the grip of heavy doses of sex and emotion[ix]. In the case of Ari, we see many times throughout the narrative his sexual encounters. From his own masturbation, to receiving oral sex from a ‘butch’ looking butcher to performing oral sex on his female friend and later on an older ‘leather daddy’ man and later an extended simulated sex scene with a male university graduate. What is important to note here is not that these visually explicit perversions are excessive in their portrayal of gratuitous sex but that Ari is not specifically gendered or manipulated into the ‘feminine body’. Ari is in exclusively in control of these actions, therefore invokes the masculine body. This decision in itself subverts earlier notions of queer spectators identifying with the feminine as it allows for queer identity to be portrayed and associated with the masculine, which prior to this film, was not as explicitly in existence. This new and challenging depiction however, does not stop here. Kokkinos again breaks the mould of the conventional filmmaking in her ending. The narrative ends simply with Ari performing a traditional Greek dance and admitting to audiences that he is single and a ‘slut’. This, it could be argued, suggests a more realistic and authentic portrayal of not only the queer community and spectators but also acts as a broader comment on the textually constructed notions of masculinity in Australian film.

In the case of Ari’s best friend ‘Johnny’, his feminine reconstruction and drag performance as his own mother ‘Toula’ also works against the notion of diva worship, as this does not relate to the worship of any pop culture star or text. She in fact shows resilience against Police abuse and brutality and emerges a strong character that pronounces to Ari, ‘stand up against the shit and the hypocrisy, it’s the only way to make a difference’. Chris Berry[x] argues that these characters and Head On itself has played a vital role in redefining ethnic cinema in Australia and shaping national identity. He believes that Ari as a ‘compromised hero’ in the process of this film has ‘negotiated various worlds’ and that the film ‘has power to access audiences not previously attracted to gay or ethnic cinema.’[xi]

In a recent one-hour conference held for Kokkinos’ work at the Australian Film, Television and Radio School in Sydney, she described Head On as a visceral film that was essentially (by her Father’s admission) about freedom. This assertion, from a queer spectators view, is a deeply empowering sentiment, and indeed relates to the function of Elliot’s film as well.

To return to Farmer, who argues ‘homosexuality is a central determining paradigm in modern, Western cultures, and many people articulate their desires, make their meanings, live their lives, whether in part or whole through it’[xii] we can see the importance of Queer film in Australian cinema. Considering that social groups use cultural forms in the process of defining themselves, cinema then, acts as a tool for gay men to corroborate and relate. Whether it is performative, like the divas in Priscilla or sexual, like Ari in Head On, there is a longing to express the self and difference that gay spectators can find strength in through their shared experience. Gay spectatorship has developed historically as an emphatic political assertion of ethnic camaraderie and as a way of achieving collective sub-cultural identity, therefore, holds importance and value in the shaping of the national cinema of Australia.

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[i] p. 166 of The Fabulous Sublimity of Gay Diva Worship

[ii] p. 168 of The Fabulous Sublimity of Gay Diva Worship

[iii] Author of ‘Notes on Camp’ included in Camp: Queer Aesthetics and the Performing Subject – A Reader.

[iv] p. 54 of Camp: Queer Aesthetics and the Performing Subject – A Reader.

[v] p. 177 of The Fabulous Sublimity of Gay Diva Worship

[vi] p. 183 of of The Fabulous Sublimity of Gay Diva Worship

[vii] p. 76 of Cinema Oz: The Ocker Films

[viii] Author of History/Discourse: Notes on two Voyeurisms.

[ix] p. 91 of Film Bodies: Gender, Genre, and Excess.

[x] p. 108 of Wog Drama and ‘White-Multiculturalists’

[xi] p. 107 of Wog Drama and ‘White-Multiculturalists’

[xii] p. 10 of Spectacular Passions: Cinema, Fantasy, Gay Male Spectatorships.

Bibliography

• Aquilia, Pieter. Wog Drama and ‘White-Multiculturalists’: The role of Non Anglo-Australian Film and Television Drama in Shaping a National Identity. Originally published in Ruinard and Tilley eds. Fresh Cuts: Journal of Australian Studies no. 67, St Lucia, UQP, 2000.
• Burston, Paul. What are you looking at? Queer Sex, Style & Cinema. Cassell, Wellington House, London, 1995.
• Burston, Paul. A Queer Romance: Lesbians, gay men and popular culture. Routledge, London and New York, 1995.
• Cleto, Fabio. Camp: Queer Aesthetics and the Performing Subject – A Reader. The University of Michigan Press, Michigan, 1999.
• Elliot, Stephan. The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert. PolyGram Filmed Entertainment, 1994.
• Farmer, Brett. Spectacular Passions: Cinema, Fantasy, Gay Male Spectatorships. Duke University Press, Durham & London, 2000.
• Farmer, Brett. The Fabulous Sublimity of Gay Diva Worship in Camera Obscura vol. 20. Duke University Press, London, 2000.
• Kokkinos, Ana. Head On. Strand Releasing, 1998.
• Metz, Christian. History/Discourse: Note on two Voyeurisms. Translated by Bennett, Susan. Edinburgh ’76 Magazine. 1976. P. 21-25.
• O’Regan, Tom. Cinema Oz: The Ocker Films in Moran, Albert & O’Regan, Tom, eds. The Australian Screen. Penguin, 1989. P. 75-98.
• Williams, Linda. Film Bodies: Gender, Genre, and Excess. From Film Genre Reader II, Grant, Barry-Keith, Austin University of Texas Press, 1995. Pg. 140-158.

Week 11 – Multiculturalism

Today Greg spoke about the discursive construction of national identity and how it is achieved by many and complex means, including, contrast, exclusion, disavowal, of objectified ‘others’, as well as, in positive ways by idealisation and self-stereotyping. The former or ‘divisive’ way is presented as a combination of orientalist notions: stereotypes, common narratives, structures & cinematic expectations and new formations.

He explained that ‘Orientalism’ is making sense of the east and far east by the western scholars. It can also refer to the imitation or depiction of aspects of eastern cultures in the west by writers and artists.

Greg explored ideas (and presented many examples in film) containing issues of the white-Australia policy days, self-loathing, Asian-Australians, Muslim-Australians and Miscegenation fears.

Speaking from a personal point of view, I am from a half Anglo-half Filipino background and I have witnessed/experienced somewhat the evolution of race relations in contemporary Australian society. During the early 90′s at school, I was told to ‘go back to your own county’ and called other derogatory names but later during High School and up to now, racism hasn’t been too prevalent in my life. I put it down to the Filipino cultures unique adaptability to the ‘Australian way of life’. There was little resistance from my mother’s community in assimilation and I think this is perhaps why there is minimal representations of the Filipino community in Australian film, there is little conflict/tension, therefore it is somewhat of a non-issue. The only representations I have experienced have been integrated Filipino youth performing on shows like Australian Idol or So you think you can dance.

I guess I would like to see more Filipino characters or identities in Australian film and television as it would encourage diversity and represent the community’s ability to adapt and celebrate a multicultural Australia but I’m happy in the knowledge myself of how far our community has come and the contributions that are already being made at the grass roots level. One successful Filipino Australian on television was Kathleen De Leon from kids show Hi-5.

Week 10 – Ozploitation

Another very interesting and dynamic week of lecture and tutorial for Australian Film with another fun debate mainly centering around what is ‘Bad’ Australian film, how we determine value and the ‘well intentioned’ and ‘worthy’ and why there is so little celebration of ‘badness’.

Greg spoke about cultural value being Art cinema or ‘elite art’ seen more significant in national cinemas than in Hollywood, as other cinemas are more ‘worthy’ than the mundane and formulaic Hollywood system, and also those films that are experimental or independent, which seem to be films that are more credible than mainstream films.

He then discussed commercial value as being Popular art, visceral films, cult films, films ‘throbbing with energy’ preferred to those ‘elite’ films, ‘quality’ or prestige films, and award-winning films.

Along with the readings I learnt that the Trash aesthetic has a commercial focus, often sensationalist and perverse with superficial storylines, references to the ‘forbidden’ and cheap production values. I also learnt that ‘exploitation cinema’ broadly applies to films whose purpose is to titillate or shock through sex, violence, gore or nudity and that the common sub-genres include sexploitation, blaxploitation, snuff and gore/splatter cinema – closely tied to adult cinema and soft-core pornography, the horror genre, underground filmmaking, sci-fi, zombie and the slasher film.

I really found ‘Not Quite Hollywood’ an insightful film because it brought to my attention a lot of the history of Australian films in general, a lot that I had not heard about and also explored the history of significant changes in society and values. I intend on checking a few of the films out that were mentioned and shown.

Comparative Analysis

The purpose of this analysis is to draw comparisons between the use of mise-en-scene in Baz Luhrmann’s Strictly Ballroom(1992) and the popular Kath & Kim(2002-2007) television series by Jane Turner and Gina Riley and how they present Suburbia. Both texts can be categorised as comedy, with elements of a ‘mockumentary’ style, however, as one belongs to film and the other to television, it will be interesting to note how design aspects such as, costuming, set design, props, lighting, acting style and framing (or camera blocking) differ between the two mediums and what effects these elements produce.

Costuming is arguably one of the most important elements of mise-en-scene for both Strictly Ballroom and Kath & Kim. Both being comedy, it is clear that costuming is a device used to create humour and satirise lower to middle class suburban Australians. However there are significant differences between both texts.

The characters ‘Kath’ and ‘Kim’ are both dressed according to what reflects their socio-economic and cultural background to highlight the suburban stereotypes they are satirising. ‘Kath’ is middle-aged mother somewhat stuck in the 80’s with her ‘frizzy perm’, shoulder pads, espadrilles, sequins, Australiana earrings and animal print cardigans while ‘Kim’ is a 27 year old unemployed housewife/new mum obsessed with celebrity trends, cosmetics, imitation Tiffany’s jewellery, hipster pants, g-strings, multi-coloured nail polish and printed ‘hoodies’ and tracksuit pants. The character ‘Kel’ is also dressed in a humorous way with grey leather jackets and zip-up loafers, a slicked and shiney comb-over hair style, 80’s polo shirts and short fluorescent power walking shorts and hat. This caricature-like costume design also occurs in Strictly Ballroom.

The glossy, highly-saturated colours and exaggerated costuming of ‘Shirly Hastings’, ‘Liz’ and ‘Barry Fife’ reflect the identities involved in the suburban Ballroom dancing sub-culture in Australia but also highlight the artifice and superficiality of these characters. What is interesting to note is the use of costuming to narrate and signify the development or blossoming of the character ‘Fran’. She begins in the film with no make-up, dowdy or daggy gym tights and socks with over-sized glasses and unflattering t-shirts, moves to more form-fitting dancer body-suits and flowing long skirts or dresses, to finally her peak point or climax in confidence wearing a vibrant red Spanish Ballroom gown with styled hair and make-up. Where costuming is used to trace the growth of ‘Fran’ in Strictly Ballroom, it is perhaps only used for comical relief and reflection of Suburbia in Kath & Kim as these characters do not change or go through any immense personal development and struggle. This can also be accounted for in the use of lighting, set design and props.

Kath & Kim shot mostly in a ‘Fountain Lakes’ house uses very natural lighting and placement of furniture & props to reflect the environment typical of a suburban Australian home. The televisions, couches, gym equipment, appliances and bedroom layouts are all realistic to provide a sense of verisimilitude for the audience so they can identify with the characters. While this is initially the case with the opening of Strictly Ballroom, with documentary style interviews in the family home and dance studios with ‘Shirley’, ‘Les’ and ‘Liz’, the lighting and sets then becomes more ‘cinematic’ and moody to reflect the different stages of development. Initially the lighting is harsh, colourful and theatrical towards the superficial characters and during the dance competitions to capture the excitement and artifice, but becomes softer or gentle with warm filters and shadowy silhouettes during the more intimate moments between ‘Scott’ and ‘Fran’. This is also represented by the distance away from the dance studios at Fran’s humble shop-residence. Finally at the end of the film, the two protagonists are spot-lighted and illuminated to represent their joy and success, and the resolution of the narrative.

Framing and camera blocking are naturalistic in Kath & Kim to keep consistent with the mockumentary/fly on the wall style voyeurism that it provides audiences. It has minimal high or low angles, with many wide and medium shots, along with tracking shots to signify that these characters are on-par with the audience, no better or worse and non-threatening. In contrast, the framing and blocking in Strictly Ballroom is immensely theatrical and exaggerated. The low angle shots of ‘Shirly’ when talking to ‘Fran’ and ‘Barry Fife’ represent their dominance and power in the conflict, the close-ups of ‘Liz’ and ‘Tina Sparkle’ reflect and emphasise their melodramatic tantrums and the tracking shots of ‘Scott’ reflect his personal movement and search for identity, self-expression and resolution.

It could be argued then, that in film, and certainly in the case of Strictly Ballroom, that mise-en-scene is employed to reflect narrative development of characters and plot whereas it is used in television to create a familiar environment and easily identifiable characters to keep consistency in a longer format and medium.

Week 9 – Doco Ethics

Considering documentary is perhaps my most favourite form/genre in film, I very much enjoyed this week’s lecture and debate in tutorial. Interesting points about cultural relevance, ethical concerns (in relation to production and exhibition) were raised in both and it was great to hear the variety of arguments being proposed. I particularly liked that Greg explored how the documentary form has evolved over time and all the different types that exist today because at times we forget that it is a changing and multi-dimensional medium that produces very different outcomes for individual texts.

One of my all time favourite websites is Vive Cool City. It is an online-based video site that contains 2-10 minute doco shorts on an incredibly wide variety of subjects, generally still considered taboo. From personal stories of Marijuana producers, porn-stars, heroin addicts, fetishists, drag personalities and marginalised indigenous people to lighter subjects and fun, such as festival and party wrap ups and their ‘How to’ series, eg. ‘how to roll the perfect joint’, ‘how to get an island tattoo’ or even ‘how to operate on your mates.’

I think these guys have really taken the documentary form to the next level and raise very interesting questions about ethics. Here is a clip of a subject that I would probably would not have access to elsewhere that opened my eyes about a rather taboo and concealed issue in society.

http://www.vivecoolcity.com/episode/103

Concept Analysis – ‘White-Multiculturalists’

‘White-Multiculturalists’ is a term coined by Gassan Hage in White Nation: Fantasies of a White Supremacy in a Multicultural Society, which refers to film makers and producers who assume control of the national space by embracing cultural difference as a theme of character in their films.[i] The term refers to those who use and appropriate ‘non-white’ commodities in Australian film and television to preserve a ‘white-nation’ ideology.[ii]

Hage argues that, “‘white-multiculturalists’ share in a concept of themselves as nationalists and of the nation as a space structured around a White culture where Aboriginal people and non-White ‘ethnics’ are merely national objects to moved or removed according to a White national will” and that of those films made by ‘white multiculturalists’ the protagonist often resolves their issues with assistance from their ethnic partners, which exploits diversity in order to sustain the power of the hero’s ‘white Australian’ world. The examples that Hage uses to demonstrate his point are the Spanish-Australian father helping ‘Scott’ in Strictly Ballroom(1992) and the Greek-Australian helping ‘Carl’ in Death in Brunswick(1991).

The term ‘White-Multiculturalists’ is disputed by Pieter Aquilia in his article, ‘Wog Drama and ‘White Multiculturalists’: The role of Non-Anglo-Australian Film and Television Drama in Shaping a National Identity,’ as he argues that Hage fails to see how such film makers are actually contributing to the development of cultural diversity in Australian film and television. Aquilia draws on many examples of film and television to argue his point, predominantly demonstrated works which cast actor Alex Dimitriades as a central protagonist, i.e. The Heartbreak Kid(1992), Heartbreak High(1993), Wildside(1997) and Head On(1998). Aquilia argues that the ‘white-multiculturalists’ producers’ casting of Dimitriades coincided with a push by Actors Equity and the Office of Multicultural affairs to redress the under- & misrepresentation of non-Anglo-Australian character roles.[iii] This push, Aquilia believes, permits Australian audiences to experience the critical value of the ‘other’ and help incorporate their search for identity into the national self.[iv]

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Taking up this debate from my own personal perspective, coming from a Half-Anglo, Half-Filipino family, I can see value of both arguments presented in relation to ‘White-Multiculturalists’. I believe the screen time, on mainstream Australian television, that ethnic minority groups receive is still fairly limited, especially in relation to popular soaps, Home and Away or Neighbours, however, due to the establishment of SBS and an increase in multicultural films, minority ethnic groups are more widely available to Australian audiences.

Interesting to note is the comparison between Serhat Caradee’s Cedar Boys(2009) and David Field’s The Combination(2009). Both films centre around Lebanese culture, one with a non-Anglo director and the other with an Anglo director. What is surprising with Cedar Boys is that it somewhat falls into Hage’s argument with the protagonists yearning to be absorbed into the predominantly Anglo eastern suburbs affluent culture, assisting  the Anglo-female lead Rachel Taylor in her conflict, concluding with a rather tragic ending for all non-Anglo characters in the film. While in The Combination the ending is indeed also tragic, the issue of race relations is explored in depth between the on-screen romance between protagonist John and Anglo-female lead Clare Bowen. Furthermore, the popularity of Firass Dirani’s performance led to the subsequent lead role in the third series of Nine Network’s Underbelly for 2010. Dirani consequently won the 2010 Cleo Bachelor of the Year Award.

It could be argued that this inclusion of Lebanese characters and culture, albeit as criminal depictions, in mainstream Australian film and television, contributes to the presence of diversity and an alternative view of national identity on Australian screens, aiding in shaping a truly multicultural national cinema.

It is useful to consider the term ‘White-Multiculturalists’ in the analysis and reading of films as the tensions in mainstream culture between different ethnic minority groups and Anglo-Australians continue today and can be contextualised and scrutinised, in conjunction with critiques of filmic representations in the future of Australian film and television.

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[i] Pg. 104 of Pieter Aquilia’s article ‘Wog Drama and ‘White Multiculturalists’: The role of Non-Anglo-Australian Film and Television Drama in Shaping a National Identity’

[ii] pg. 104 of Pieter Aquilia’s article ‘Wog Drama and ‘White Multiculturalists’: The role of Non-Anglo-Australian Film and Television Drama in Shaping a National Identity’

[iii] pg. 105 of Pieter Aquilia’s article ‘Wog Drama and ‘White Multiculturalists’: The role of Non-Anglo-Australian Film and Television Drama in Shaping a National Identity’

[iv] pg. 106 of Pieter Aquilia’s article ‘Wog Drama and ‘White Multiculturalists’: The role of Non-Anglo-Australian Film and Television Drama in Shaping a National Identity’

Indigenous Representations (Transcript of my Class presentation)

I grew up on the South Coast of New South Wales and attended the only Catholic High School in the area, which happened to be neighbored by a suburb known for its low-socio-economic demographic and its substantial indigenous population. For me personally, growing up in this area – and judging from what I saw and the people I interacted with – along with the overall social conditioning, attitudes and culture of the non-Aboriginal locals and my peers – my opinion of indigenous Australians wasn’t particularly high – and I would have to say that my feelings towards them were definitely ambivalent – much like the majority of non-Aboriginal people I knew.

I was excited to see that Beneath Clouds was being screened in this course because I was fortunate enough to study it during my HSC. It was definitely an eye-opening experience and a turning point for me as it begun a shift in my consciousness and views of Aboriginal people. And one of the reasons I love this film, and also Warwick Thorton’s Samson & Delilah, is that they have the potentiality and capacity to enlighten audiences of social issues and change people’s attitudes towards indigenous Australians.

From last weeks lecture and readings, a key issue that is raised is the sense that non-Aboriginal audiences find it hard to connect to characters because its so far removed from their own personal experiences and mostly subscribe to the dominant white-culture. What do people think of this statement? Do you find that you can’t connect with indigenous characters?

Generally I would have to agree – however, the reason I really liked Beneath Clouds was because it was so contemporary, about characters in their youth – searching for identity – AND it I think it authentically represented the indigenous social environment – very close, if not identical to the one my schoolmates and I experienced.

So, this leads into the discussion of evaluative frameworks. In Marcia Langton’s essay, she states that critics find it difficult to discuss Aboriginal works as there is an absence of critical theory but also knowledge of Aboriginal sensibility – and this I think relates back to the notions of ambivalence & invisibility.

As Greg was saying last week, 6000 films have been made about Indigenous Australians with only roughly 200 being made by Aboriginal people – and Marcia accounts for this saying that easiest or most ‘natural’ form of racism in representation is the act of making the ‘other’ invisible.

So – how do we combat this issue of persistent racism through exclusion?

I think we can all agree with the idea that we must address and learn more about ‘other’ cultures, as it not only decentralizes the dominant western culture and values but it opens us up to change and diversity through the different challenges that other cultures present to us. So in this sense, we need knowledge and awareness – but this can only happen if we enter into a dialogue with other cultures.

Marcia argues: Most Aboriginal people involved in production of artforms believe that an ethical, post-colonial critique and practice among their non-Aboriginal colleagues is possible and achievable. However, there are some complex issues that can arise.

1. The concept of ‘Aboriginality’ is one of the most disputed terms in the Australian language. Who is Aboriginal? What is Aboriginal? Resolving these issues can be uneasy at the best of times as white perceptions can be disturbing – our history of the stolen generation, the denial of civil rights and the dispossession of the land being the major influencing factors – also tying in with the Australian legal system on top of everything, generating uncertainty and confusion relating to appropriate characterizations, i.e. ‘full blood’, ‘half-caste’ etc. Marcia argues that this fixation of classification reflects the colonial administration of ‘Aboriginal affairs’ and an elaborate system of control.

2. Another issue is funding from the Australian Film Commission. Marcia argues that there is a naïve belief that Aboriginal people will make ‘better’ representations of themselves simply because being Aboriginal gives them ‘greater understanding’. She believes this belief itself is based on a kind of reversed racism because it works on the assumption that all Aborigines’ are alike and equally understand each other without regard to history, gender, sexual preference etc etc. So basically there is the threat of censorship – who decides what is ‘right’ and what is ‘wrong’ with representations? For example, why shouldn’t some Aboriginal people be portrayed as drunks if that is the case of the story? Michelle Wallace argues that this positive/negative formula lacks the crucial capacity to differentiate between visual analysis and textual.

So she goes on to argue that ‘Aboriginality’ arises from the subjective experience of both Aboriginal people and non-Aboriginal people who engage in any intercultural dialogue, whether it is actual lived experience or through a mediated experience such as watching a film or television program or reading a book. It is not a fixed thing. It is created from our histories – from inter-subjectivity of black and white in a dialogue.

As I was saying before, it is hard for some white-Australians to relate to Aboriginal people because they drew on symbols created by their predecessors. This short clip from the First Australians illustrates this point through the depiction of the Mabo case.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J5UWjqQRE40

This is where Film, video and television plays out its most powerful role. By giving Indigenous people a voice, they are no longer invisible and awareness can raised about their culture. It allows for Indigenous stars/identities/sports people exposure into the mainstream culture – giving them agency to use their influence for the betterment of their communities and society at large.

Week 7 – Suburbia / Gothic

This scene is my absolute favourite in the film and perhaps one of my favourite of all time. I think it captures not only the beauty and truth of genuine friendship, (resolving the conflict of the narrative) but also because it stays true to the comedic/comical nature of the film and suburban Australia with the satirical performances of ‘the beautiful girls’. Sophie Lee’s performance is incredibly authentic and funny and I believe it does justice to the critique of superficial and small minded ‘bimbo’ from Australian Suburbia. This caricature is one I think that is relate-able to a lot of Australian audiences and I believe could have inspired later similar characters in Australian film and television.

Week 6 – Bush Legend and Masculinities

Australian masculinity was discussed in relation to the landscape of Australia and its iconic status. Greg posed the questions for us – What does it mean to be a man? To act or look like a man in Australian contemporary society? and how does film or TV represent this masculinity?

I found this topic to be very interesting. Being a young homosexual man, still finding myself, I have encountered in the gay world the absolute worship of the notion of masculinity and ‘masculine’ traits. I liked that Greg pointed out that Masculinity is never a stable formation and that it is always changing and remains a site of contestation.

Masculinity does involve the concept of Mateship we looked at earlier in the course and the powerful uniqueness of that mateship but along with that comes the dark side of conformity, especially perpetuated by the concept of the Ocker & ocker Cinema.

Past mythologies of Australian men include them being practical, physical, independent, egalitarian, loyal to mates and anti-authoritarian. The bushmen, later bushrangers then larrikins and Little Aussie Battler explores the idea of the underdog – a nostalgic perception of the working class man. Images of masculinity in the cinema can reflect and thus perpetuate dominant social ideas about masculinity – but they also may work to challenge and problematise those dominant representations.

I found Wake in Fright a very confronting film, especially in terms of his violence. At the same time, I kind of think it is a beautiful film, in terms of the journey that the protagonists experiences in relation to the notion of masculinity and conformity because it somewhat highlighted the obscurity and short-comings of such behaviour.

Another great example is one of my favourite Australian Films, Head On by Ana Kokkinos. I found both the narrative and narration compelling especially because of its exploration of sexuality, masculinity and cross-cultural issues.

Week 5 – Imagined Content

This week we discussed Mad Max in relation to a lot of topics that we have been exploring throughout the whole course. I enjoyed the breakdown in Meaghan Morris’ essay and her analysis of ‘white panic’ and the ‘phobic narrative’.

I think these concepts are still relatively useful in analyzing films today as a lot of films still have issues relating to racism, sexism, feminism, politics and identity. I think Mad Max is a fairly good example of ‘imagined’ or ‘imaginary’ content examining these ideas and concepts but I think perhaps there are more contemporary examples that have done the same thing better.

Sadly, none of the examples I am thinking of are Australian because I think our capacity to create imaginary worlds/blockbusters is severely diminished by funding constraints. I think we do have the creative talent in Australia but sadly America’s influence and Hollywood still predominantly keeps the business/production there.