Written for RAF News April 2020

Geoffrey Rush plays Michael Kingley, an ageing businessman who is about to vote on whether a mining company can exploit the land that he grew up on, the beautiful South Australian beaches of Coorong. This casts him back into memories of his childhood and in particular his relationship with Mr. Percival, a pelican.

Mostly told through flashbacks, Mike is played by Finn Little as a young boy, living out in a shack with his stoic but sweet father (Jai Courtney), reading Lord of the Flies together, apparently serving as a corporate manifesto in this context.

However it is when he meets a local Indigenous man by the name of Fingerbone Bill (Trevor Jamieson) that he starts to connect more with nature. The birds native to the island are being hunted for sport and whilst his own father is indifferent, he feels an urge to protect them. Discovering an orphaned nest of chicks with Bill, he takes them home to raise them himself.

Whilst his father is initially resistant, he sees the passion that has awoken his boy and so supports in designing contraptions to feed them until they can do it for themselves. Not quite the emotional turmoil of Casper and his Kes, young Michael still finds an escape in the rearing of the birds, opting to keep one as the family pet.

As they grow larger we some footage of these remarkably playful pelicans, creating a real connection between Michael and the birds. It is the unsubtle dialogue that treads on the tenderness of the story. The framing device with Rush doesn’t really add anything to the story, other than a heavy-handed morality.

Apparently a well known Australian novel that had been adapted into a beloved-to-some movie, this recent adaptation doesn’t do anything very interesting but the innocence of children and animals is a surefire way to get a dose of empathy.

Written for RAF News April 2020

Cami (Heather Graham) and her teenage daughter Aster (Sophie Nélisse) live in a beautiful hill-top home isolated from the world, that is until some guests arrive in the shape of her ex-husband’s new wife and young daughter following his sudden accidental death.

When Cami finds out that Rachel (Jodi Balfour), the so-called ‘homewrecker’, has not only been widowed, but unravelling financial struggles have lead to her being evicted, she offers her slice of paradise as a place to stay. What was perhaps a sympathetic gesture, is initially refused but soon becomes the only option, much to the annoyance of everyone involved.

The Rest of Us looks at the relationships between these women, how they deal with grief over this absent male presence, and the ripples of his decisions that continue to affect them. Both mothers fail to connect with their own daughters, Cami professing to have a way with kids, where Rachel is closer in age with a rebellious mindset to get approval of the teenager. Together forming a yin-yang of roles, this of course does not account for jealousy, rivalry and social tensions – with some secrets threatening to divide the family up once more.

There is a maturity to the storytelling which is able to avoid over-explaining. A quick cutting style punctuates some funny moments and dramatic turns at the end of a scene, but it’s continued use makes it feel choppy. It has all the makings of an indie film but the editing style of an action movie. The fast pace moves the story along but also stops it from finding a rhythm or slowing down enough to connect with characters emotionally. Strange considering the film is centred around the grieving process.

What it does achieve though is showing a range of female voices, both in front of and behind the camera. Playing off stereotyped hostility, these characters exhibit solidarity without it being too clean and patronising, it is messy and complex but ultimately humanitarian.