Flog

Vegemite and Aliens from another dimension.

In one of my film studies classes I learned about Australian films and what it means to be Australian as defined through film.

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‘Kraft’ announce it is changing the name of its iconic ‘Vegemite’ to ‘Australia’ on Australia Day, 26 January.

The cool thing about film studies is that I get to watch a lot of movies. ‘That’s terrible Muriel’ (see Muriel’s Wedding 1994). No not really, but the ‘terrible Muriel’ thing about it was that I had to watch an enormous amount of Australian movies. Why is this terrible, the general world public may ask. It’s terrible because of the many things that get truly flogged here in Oz, Australian films are at the top of the list. There’s an immense amount of grumbling that goes on about how bad the films are here, so bad that Australian audiences prefer seeing Dumb and Dumber (1994) fifty times rather than checking out Ten Canoes (2006).

I suppose it’s partially because Australian films are often relegated to Independent film status and are not Hollywood films.

It’s absurd of course, to compare a low-budget movie made in a country with a population of only nineteen million with anything from Hollywood, made with a worldwide audience in mind. But audiences do precisely this all the time. The odd thing is that the [indie] or low-budget movie gets criticised for being commercially unsuccessful, while mainstream cinema gets attacked for being commercially successful. - Jane Mills, 2001

By the way, all this Kraft business is perfect timing for my feature film, AustrAliens, currently in pre-production, since the script mentions ‘Vegemite’ thirteen times and shows it about 5 or 6. Several months ago I tried getting the okay from Kraft to use it in the film and now I see they are changing the brand name of ‘Vegemite’ to ‘Australia’. Of course, this leads me to conclude there’s a conspiracy and that the reason they never got back to me was because they stole my idea.

FLASHBACK, THEN FORWARD, THEN BACK… NO MAYBE JUST PAN AROUND AND AROUND IN A CIRCLE UNTIL THE AUDIENCE GETS DIZZY. NO, WAIT REWIND… It’s because they are in awe of my ideas. NO, REWIND… It’s because I am too close to their campaign and they didn’t want their marketing plan to get infected by the cross-dressing aliens of my film.

Annnyyyywayyyy… I like Australian films. I like everything about them. The good and the bad. They are growing on a path, they have their own particular style. I really like that they are NOT Hollywood movies and that they spark of Indie films made with heart and soul, true to the chunky, clunky newness of a culture trying to define itself separate from all the hype and temperament of the American kraft, I mean craft, and style. It was by watching Australian films that I learned about mullets, Ned Kelly, and wogs; sheilas, fair dinkum and Woop Woop. For this I am forever grateful.

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Hand reaching up to a grocery shop shelf and grabbing a jar of ‘Australia’ concentrated yeast spread.

Go see an Australian film today.

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IMAGE retrieved 21/1/12 from: http://www.moviemem.com/products/movie-posters-general-listings/welcome-to-woop-woop-1997-rod-taylor-rare-one-sheet.

REFERENCE: Mills, Jane 2001, The Money Shot, Pluto Press, Annandale, Australia, p23.

Lawn mowing aliens.

On a recent trip to my hometown in the greater Pittsburgh area, the local sheriff accosted me two days before it was time for me to return to Australia. I happened to be walking around the neighbourhood taking videos of the grass and people cutting the lawn because it had occurred to me one day that I could appease my creative stirrings by making a sci-fi short about a group of mysterious lawn mowing aliens.  Afterall, it just seemed extremely fishy to me that never a day went by that there weren’t at least five neighbours out cutting their lawns, riding around on the latest Sears model mower. Unfortunately, unbeknownst to me, there had been a rash of burglaries in the area, sheds had been broken into and the precious lawn mowers, of all things, were being stolen. So, of course, me being a stranger in the neighbourhood, the neighbours called the cops on the suspicious leather-clad woman walking down the street taking random videos. 

Flashback to the late 1970s: I found myself stuck in the middle of the ‘White Nights Riot’ that broke out over Harvey Milk and George Moscone’s murder in San Francisco. What had started out as an angry protest against injustice ended badly for many in the crowd, bystanders and the press not withstanding. When the police let loose on the protestors I was an unfortunate victim. Suffice it to say, although I survived the brutal attack during the riot, the police are still quite triggering for me now. 

Cut back to Pennsylvania: Standing on the street, I was shaking as the cops asked for my ID and began to question my activities in the US. I told them my mum lived around the corner with her sister and that I just thought it would be interesting to make a little film about lawn mowers and aliens because we didn’t mow the grass as much in Australia as they did in Pennsylvania. In fact, I told them there was hardly any green grass in Australia. Luckily, they believed me but still took down my name, address (which, due to the adrenalin coursing through my body, I couldn’t remember) and phone number (which I also couldn’t remember.)

Regardless of my inability to supply them with local credentials, they finally stopped the 3rd degree and released me. I walked back to the house and, in tears, told my mother what had happened. She got really ticked off at the neighbours and so did my Aunt MJ, who both had a few ‘words’ with the suspected stoolies (called ‘dobbers’ in Australia) later on. Needless to say, I was traumatised and paranoid for the rest of my trip. I kept looking out of the window expecting cop cars and police in full SWAT uniforms to bust into the house, billy club and arrest me for, what, I don’t know, pornographic lawn mower images on my flip video camera?

They never did come back to get me though and I am happy to say I managed to just barely cover the extra baggage cost of all those lawn mowers I brought back to Australia with me. In fact, hey, if you need a new lawn mower look up my EBay store Against the Lawn and make an offer. ‘Mates rates’ apply.

© Flog//A. Silver 2011

PHOTO: http://www.darkroastedblend.com/2010/04/never-give-up-crazy-logistics-part-11.html

If a woman superhero has a baby does it hurt?

I went into my friendly-neighbourhood DVD shop and looked around. Captain America, Green Lantern, and KungFu Panda posters caught my attention. I looked on the shelves, rarely did I see a DVD cover that had one woman in the forefront, by herself. Yes, often in a group or with a man, but never alone and prepared to save the world. Oh and yes, there were a few random covers with women looking like they could kick some evil-villain-arse, however, they all had larger than average breasts and extremely tight clothes that barely covered anything and looked really uncomfortable. How could anyone save the planet with a massive wedgie and the inability to breath?

I came home, sad to say, with Kung Fu Panda 2, an Avatar Wii game and one really bad film in need of editing which shall go nameless… saved by the fact that the protagonist was a female. I suppose the point here is that it is disappointing, time and time again, to see images of women through the eyes of men. Where are the stories of the tough women superheroes who wear sensible clothes, no make-up and badly coiffed hair. Oh, I get it, Super Dag might not make any money at the box office. 

I did some research on women superheroes and found this post by Prof. Susurro on her ‘Like a Whisper’ blog that I’ll pass on, as it is exactly what I am talking about. http://likeawhisper.wordpress.com/2010/05/20/hey-hollywood-how-about-some-female-superhero-movies/

Women.

The first word I’m going to flog is WOMEN.

I am quite fond of women. I believe we are an exceptional species living in a challenging world. Still trying to make ends meet. To move ahead. To gain something that recognises us as more than just a word to flog.

I try not to have a chip on my shoulder. To consider myself grateful to be a part of this world worthy of everything there is to be had. Deserving. Enough.

In Australia they talk about the ‘tall poppy syndrome’, which means people of genuine merit are resented, attacked, cut down, or criticised because their talents or achievements elevate them above or distinguish them from their peers. When I look out from my limited view on the world I see a field of poppies and they are all women. Tall and beautiful. Nothing can cut them down.

If you have something wonderful to say about WOMEN, say it now.