Julia's Cousin

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garry — Fri, 18 May 2012 10:06:37 +0000

I watched Sons for the Return Home (Paul Maunder, 1979) because I knew the author of the novel slightly when I was working in Fiji, at USP, where he was at that time Professor of Pacific Literature. I wanted to see what I might learn about him from the film. And I must say that the actor who plays Sione, Uelese Petaia, looked and acted remarkably like the way I remember the writer. Here’s the story of an encounter with him which I thought was most characteristic.
I turned 40 soon after arriving in Suva, and took up running at that time, mainly so that I could run with the Hash House Harriers on a Monday night and get pleasantly pissed afterwards. But I used to run on other days during the week to keep fit. The best run was around Queen Elizabeth Rd, which goes right around the southern end of Suva Point. There are no buildings nearby, and few cars use the road, because it’s not the shortest way from anywhere to anywhere else: it’s a semi-circle. There’s rarely anyone on foot, for the same reason. The ocean is yards away, and then there’s just the trade winds from the southeast, with the purest air on the planet. It’s hard to imagine anywhere better to run.
So there I am in 1984 or 1985, enjoying my lone run, when I see the Samoan Professor coming towards me. We are going to pass shoulder to shoulder. There’s no-one else within half a mile. I know who he is, of course. And he prolly knows who I am, as I have a fairly senior position at the same small University. Should I greet him? And if so, how? ‘Good afternoon, Professor’? ‘Talofa’? Being me, I deferred to him, for two reasons: he was senior in both senses (he’s four years older), and it was his region – I was the foreigner, the palagi, to use the Samoan term (the Fijian is valagi). And what did he do? Nothing. We passed like ships in the night. In the bright Pacific sunlight, he did not see me at all.

Tall Timbers

garry — Thu, 17 May 2012 04:04:10 +0000

In Ken G. Hall’s 1937, Tall Timbers, it’s not the height or beauty or beneficial properties of the trees that are celebrated, but the courage and power of the axemen and the entrepreneurs who fell them and drag them away – and the higher the rate and the greater the quantity the better. I hope things have changed somewhat since 1937, but I greatly fear they have not.

Money Street

garry — Tue, 15 May 2012 09:01:45 +0000

Showing admirable self-control, I thought, I read the whole of John K. Ewers’ novel Money Street before looking in Google Maps to see if it still looks anything like the street he described in 1933. I was horrified when I first got out of the Tardis because I happened to land in that part of the street nearest the city where they’ve driven a new little street (Washing Lane) across Money St, and the prospect when the Google camera car went past was one of cement trucks and rebuilding on levelled sites. But about one third of the buildings are still the original humble semis that was built when the locality was laid out in the 1880s or 1890s I’m guessing. More importantly, most of the street still has the deciduous plane trees that Ewers describes meeting to form a canopy. I wonder how much longer they’ll last.

Got the Hump

garry — Tue, 15 May 2012 04:07:50 +0000

Overnight I saw a 1919 film and finished a 1933 book, in both of which I read the expression ‘got the hump’ which, afaik, has disappeared from Australian usage since WW2. The film is Lottie Lyell & Raymond Longford’s, based on CJ Dennis’s Songs of a Sentimental Bloke (A&R, 1915). In my family copy of the 1932 reprint (which cost 2/9) the glossary says that ‘the hump’ is ‘a fit of depression’. The other book is John K. Ewers’ Money Street, which I’ve been getting around to reading for most of my life, knowing that the eponymous street was only a couple of miles from where I grew up.

The Lady from Shanghai

garry — Thu, 10 May 2012 14:49:17 +0000

I had a quick look at The Lady from Shanghai (Orson Welles, 1947). I wanted to look at the end of the career of an actress ruined by her director and husband. But I couldn’t watch much of it, as it suffers from the same problem as Chimes at Midnight: orsonomania – a notable subset of egomania.

Unfinished Business

garry — Wed, 09 May 2012 13:09:48 +0000

I’ve only just seen for the first time Bob Ellis‘s 1985 Unfinished Business. For some reason, the only copy I could get hold of was off a videotape with Portuguese subtitles! And inaccurate they are too!
We need this little film on DVD. I don’t see John Clayton as having been quite as good as Bob thinks, but Michele Fawdon was worthy of her AFI nom. And that’s about it: it’s pretty much a two-hander, tho it’s always good to see Norman Kaye – and hear him playing on the soundtrack!

Chimes at Midnight

garry — Tue, 08 May 2012 12:23:50 +0000

I just watched the beginning of Chimes at Midnight (1965) the ‘Falstaff’ vehicle for Orson Welles’ enormous ego – and body. It’s rubbish. A complete waste of AU$27.18, as far as I am concerned.
But I bought it really for my friend Andrew: and he’ll prolly enjoy it again.
Fkn Merkins!

Last Ride

garry — Tue, 08 May 2012 11:50:04 +0000

I should record that I watched Glendyn Ivin’s Last Ride (2009), having bought it and done so. But it’ll take me a little while to come to terms with the experience. It’s just as well I’m not a reviewer with a deadline.
It’s a two-hander. Someone said not to work with animals or children. This child could have been told: not to work with Hugo Weaving. The kid is acted off the screen: it’s Hugo’s film.

Thunderball

garry — Mon, 07 May 2012 09:46:42 +0000

Over lunch yesterday, I thought I’d glance at Thunderball (1965) the last James Bond film directed by Terence Young. … So that took up most of the afternoon, as it’s over two hours long, and a load of old cobblers – but a bit of fun. I’ve always thought the opening credits the best part of all the Bond films. I’ve also always thought that the second one, From Russia With Love, is the best.

The Silence (2006)

garry — Sun, 06 May 2012 00:25:39 +0000

Last night I watched The Silence (2006) directed for TV by Cate Shortland and written by Alice Addison & Mary Walsh. I’d seen it before and only started watching it to check up on one actor (Jennifer Hagan, who’d changed a bit since Alvin Purple in 1971) but found I couldn’t put it down, and had a late night. It has all the usual elements of a cop show (as suggested by the misleading poster, right) particularly the kind of thing done in New Tricks, as ep of which I’d just seen earlier, but is much better than that suggests. It’s a fine script, made the most of by all the cinematic elements working together. Roxburgh is always excellent, but I was surprised by these outstanding writers.