"A-Z of Euro-Horrors" from my fanzine STUMPY V (early 1994): A valiant attempt to catalogue all Italian, Spanish, French and German horrors on Australian video in the 80s/early 90s. Keep in mind these opinions are at least 15 years old and thus may have changed over the years! CLICK FOR LARGER, READABLE VERSIONS
18/09/04 - The 3rd Annual Brisbane Rock’n’Roll Festival at The Rev, Fortitude Valley with Cosmic Psychos, Nightstick, The Cants, Vegas Kings, The Hekawis, Hell Crab City, The DangerMen, El Borracho, Gutterball Pete and The Shaolin Drunks, The Busymen, and The Wild.
[Review from Timeoff Magazine]
Speaking of chaos, The Vaginabillies with Fred Negro may not be playing at The Rev again anytime soon after their mix of burlesque cocktail waitresses, Fred Negro’s penis and bad country songs. Did we mention Fred Negro’s penis? Holy Jesus! It’s like seeing your deranged, inbred uncle flop it out drunkenly at some family gathering. What a great band!
New Year's Eve 2004 at the Pint on Punt with Mole Patrol, Crackwhore, Vaginabillies & the Twits
[Tim Chuma’s review from his blog]
After going to the Espy for the last three years I had been living in Melbourne, I decided that I would be going to the Pint on Punt this year instead (I had decided in March when I first started going there.)
As I had already seen the Twits play several times at the venue I already knew what they would be like. The bands I was looking forward to see were Mole Patrol and the Vaginabillies.
Even though it was only their 5th gig according to one of the members of the Twits, Mole Patrol were great. They all seemed to be having fun and even when they had to start one of their songs again they seemed to take it well. The crowd really enjoyed their performance also. Hopefully we will get to see more of them in the future. I have a crush on their lead singer already.
The last time I had seen the Vaginabillies play they were still playing as "They Might Be Vaginas". This time they played more of Shonkytonk's songs (Fred also played with them), a calypso number and even a Dragon cover. They are right up there in the antics stakes with Stumpy getting very nude by the end.
The Twits played as well as they usually did and the entire band ended up nude. Special mention must go to the "magic trick" by Lush and also Chris standing outside waving at passing cars after the show while completely naked.
New Year's Day 2005 Recovery at the Greyhound with the Gamma Rays, Shonkytonk,
[Tim Chuma’s review from his blog]
As I had nothing better to do I decided to walk down to the Greyhound and arrived about 7pm. When there was still no sign of anyone even setting up by 7.30pm I started to walk up to the Pint on Punt and met Stumpy & co walking down (it killed some time.)
The Gamma Rays played mainly instrumental surf-type music to an enthusiastic reception. Lots of people danced to them as they are good band to do so with. I know they have had several different members but I was surprised to see Scott from the Red Hot Poker Dots on drums as that band usually keeps him really busy.
The ever popular Shonkytonk played a great set. It proves country music can be popular if you play it right (the partisan St Kilda crowd may also be an advantage.)
The Vaginabillies played even better than last night with Stumpy getting up to all kinds of antics - he wasn't even as drunk as last night! They are going back to
14/01/05 - Rock’n’Roll Abbatoir #2 at 610, Fortitude Valley w/Gazoonga Attack, Vaginabillies, La Cosa Nostra, The Ten Fours, The Jennys
The Vaginabillies’ unpredictability is but one reason punters always come back to see them. They’re the sort of band where if 50 people come to see them, 40 won’t like them and the remaining will turn into die-hard fans for life. Tonight is a perfect example. Stumpy and his band of casual lunatics are left aghast when their guitarist storms off the stage and into the night during their second song. Through sheer ingenuity, the band press on as their set turns into a camp cabaret choreographed by Timothy Leary. Anyone with some kind of musical talent seems inclined to join in on their psychotic antics, with hilarious results.
If you love ’em, you love ’em, and if you don’t, they’ll behave like good missionaries and do their best to convert you with
13/01/06 - Johnny Thunders Tribute at the Rev,
[Donat Tahiraj’s from Timeoff Magazine 18/01/06]
Loosely based around a Johnny Thunders tribute CD launch,
The calypso punk collective known as the Vaginabillies are probably the only band in the known world who have both David Allan Coe’s “Cumstains On The Pillow” and Dragon’s “Rain” in their repertoire. And that’s what makes them not only stupid, but also smart. Cabaret of the finest order.
07/07/06 - Pint on Punt, St Kilda w/
[Tim Chuma’s review from his blog]
I was looking forward to this show even if I didn't have money left until next week and I had to leave early. I hadn't seen the Vaginabillies or Stumpy for a couple of years so I wanted to see how they were getting on.
First up was Wayne Keys who did lounge versions of some punk songs including Nazi Punks much to the crowd's amusement. He also managed to get a lot of the women to leave which the Twits usually do when they start.
Due to Lush's injury, The Twits played an acoustic set as the Eggs. I thought it was a good set despite the problems Les had tuning his guitar and Fred filled in the gap by asking everyone their porn name.
Crackwhore were up next they are sounding great. I was given their new single and also managed to catch up with Stacy after their set. I will also try to buy a copy of Punk O'Clock IV which has a track by them on it.
The Vaginabillies have a new lineup with Coral Outcrop on percussion and Carly on keyboards. They played a few strange songs before Stumpy got up on stage and they began the rest of their set.
As a special tribute to Robbie Rocket, They Might Be Negroes performed some I Spit on Your Gravy songs including The Goink, Scotty, Burger Shop Slaughter and Piranha. I think they also played some Fuck Fucks material.
I stayed as late as I possibly could, but I missed the Australian GG Allin show this time. Hopefully everyone had a good time and I will try to catch that show sometime in the future.
11/06/09 - the Step Inn, Fortitude Valley w/Flipper, Slug Guts, Sixfthick, The Vaginabillies
[Tom Hersey’s review from Rave Magazine 16/06/09]
With a shark for a drummer, The Vaginabillies are an engaging and partially hilarious warm-up to the ridiculously cold Brisbane eve. Next, SixFtHick are a Cruel Sea cover band playing original songs. Cynicism aside, their cuts of bluesy garage punk are a strong addition to tonight’s bill. Over in The Step Inn’s rarely utilised corner bar, a crowd has gathered around Slug Guts. With a relentless wall of noise technique and a vocalist walking on the bar, spilling people’s beverages, Slug Guts are a spectacle.
Then Flipper take the stage and a dude in a shark costume playing drums seems tame in comparison. With his voice hamstrung by a nasty sounding cold, vocalist Bruce Loose’s contribution tonight is largely to stir mischief. And just that happens, Ted Falconi’s hypnotic riffs and Rachel Thoele’s rolling bass lines degenerate placid hipsters into raging scene warriors as the pit rips open, fights break out and put-upon bouncers try to keep everything under control. Frontman Loose is not a musical genius – tonight members of the crowd invited onstage are better vocalists than he and his contribution to Flipper’s records could only just pass as singing. Rather, the man is simply a genius; disinterested, laconic and alienating, he has squandered his potential playing in a rock & roll band and he knows it. His banter between songs is as cutting as tracks like Sacrifice, Life and Survivors Of The Plague. After nearly an hour and a half, when Loose’s voice is shot, the amps are switched off, the wall of feedback punctuating their iconic hit Sex Bomb ceases to be and the crowd walks away from the show, some feeling cheated, others blessed. Regardless, the beauty of witnessing a band that makes an audience pissed off, confused, bored, bitter, morose, dumbfounded, disorientated and fucking elated is not unappreciated.
Tonight it’s six different breeds of damaged punk and rock – kind of like the village of the damned, but with the parents in tow.
The Vaginabillies are terrible even though they’re in love with themselves – a country/punk circus freak show that Rocky Outcrop did way better ten years ago. Proceeding in another room are The Insurgents, a trio with spasms of songs that are segued with gaping chunks of feedback-drenched oblivion. It’s polarising but awesome.
Sixfthick are not what they once were. What was the Old Testament eight years ago is now a seedy, urban New Testament of growling sounds, split pants swagger and raw sinew showing. Their newer tunes grip with teeth like their older tunes never could. It’s not necessarily better and there’s no redemption, but it is intimidating. Slug Guts on the other hand pick the flesh off of the carcass of the swamp rock sound from down south that, for these kids, is but a fresh kill that the whole room happily devours.
It’s a weird vibe that kicks off Flipper, with the obese and highly irritating voice of Neil Hamburger incessantly going on and on over the PA while the band morbidly mill around and stare at the floor. The ugly black dirge that is Flipper’s trademark finally rears up, starting slowly with a melodic, grumbling bass sound and twisted guitar lines that dance around it. Bruce Loose declares the band in mourning; there’s been a death in the family even though mumbling obscures the identity of the dearly departed. The first few songs lope around the room and the strange air grows, ‘Survivors Of The Plague’ highlighting an inherent chaos in the band’s sound, if not the band itself.
Tempering the mood, the “Ha Ha Boys” of Stumpy and Co. career onto the stage to bore holes into ‘Love Canal’ – kicking off the night’s karaoke as Loose declares the death of his voice (the band’s fifth member). Somewhere within all the swirling noise and shambolic yet strangely picture-perfect sight before us, the drugs kick in, the alcohol takes hold or something, and the band finally finds a smile and some vitriol – unfortunately though, the band’s stride is not a straight one. Clarke Kent guest vocals ‘Life’ and the train wreck rolls ever closer. Guitarist Ted Falconi watches from the sidelines, churning up his guitar lines and staying clear as bodies and debris come and go. ‘Sacrifice’ displays the death throes of a band having too good a time to care whether the audience still loves them.
It’s all hands on deck for the karaoke closer ‘Sex Bomb’. Again, Stumpy (and a few random others) fill the void and permanently molest the song on behalf of the rest of the room until the wheels fall off and half the band wanders off stage. It’s hard to comprehend if this is what Flipper are meant to be but regardless, tonight it’s great for its twisted highs as much as its confusing and all-too-authentic lows.
WINGS HAUSER RETROSPECTIVE
[Catalogue notes for a Melbourne Underground Film Festival retrospective, August 2009]
“Reality can be boring. I like to put a little turbo power into my performance.”
Born Gerald Dwight Hauser, “Wings” earned his moniker on the gridiron field and was set to be either a pro footballer or rock crooner before settling on acting. A five year stint on hit soap The Young And The Restless led the ambitious Wings to the lead role in the low-budget B actioner Vice Squad (1982); he was disturbingly believable as the whore-whipping pimp Ramrod, and similar asshole roles followed, as did off-set stories of Wings' violent, alcohol and cocaine-fuelled misadventures. Settling down somewhat with partner
Deadly Force (1983)
Director Paul Aaron Writers Ken Barnett, Robert Vincent O'Neill
Cast Wings Hauser, Joyce Ingalls, Paul Shenar, Al Ruscio
“When the cops won't, and the courts can't...Stoney Cooper will give you justice!” Riding the crest of Wingsmania after Vice Squad (1982), Deadly Force returns Hauser to the junky-lined, hooker-heavy streets of LA, this time as NYC cop Stoney Cooper, avenging his best friend's granddaughter's death at the hands of the omnipresent “X Killer”.Naturally Stoney's a loose cannon happy to wave his gun at a mobster or millionaire while leaving a trail of bullet-riddled bodies behind him. If this sounds like a tenth-rate Dirty Harry knockoff, don't fret; it's 100% pure and joyous Eighties pulp, an ultra-violent, cartoonish revenge fantasy dripping with Hauser's ludicrous tough-guy dialogue courtesy of Vice Squad's writer and B-veteran Robert Vincent O'Neill (Wonder Women, the Angel series).
The Siege Of Firebase Gloria (1989)
Director Brian Trenchard-Smith
Cast R. Lee Ermey, Wings Hauser, Robert Arevalo, Mark Neely
Once again the
Skins (1994)
aka Gang Boys, Gang Boyz
Director Wings Hauser Writers Maria Dylan, Wings Hauser
Cast Wings Hauser, Linda Blair, Cole Hauser, Talbert Morton
A Hauser Family vanity affair featuring Wings – also on board as co-writer, producer AND director - as an alcoholic father uniting his family AND the Crips and Bloods against a neo-Nazi gang of gay-bashing rapists. A total misfire on all counts featuring Wings' son Cole, wife Cali (wisely hiding in the credits as “Dafna Galili”), Linda Blair wondering at which point her career went to the dogs, and a ghastly Eighties B film soundtrack which at no point sounds inappropriate, as the whole sordid mess feels about ten or fifteen years too late. Needless to say, no Wings Hauser Retrospective should be without this hilarious, first-class howler.
PURE SHIT screens at the Brisbane Powerhouse on Friday 15th May at 7.30pm, followed by a Q&A with the director Bert Deling and lead actor Gary Waddell, chaired by Trash Video’s Andrew Leavold. Tickets are $20/$18, available from the Brisbane Powerhouse (www.brisbanepowerhouse.org)
[Article and Bert Deling interview published in Rave Magazine 12/05/09]
“The best thing you can possibly do is make a legendary film that's no-one has seen,” laughs film director Bert Deling. “As soon as it gets to be available, the legend will collapse!”
Such was the fate of his
Much to our collective relief, the legend of Pure Shit is entirely justified: a deft combination of Swiftian satire, social realism with the odd picaresque touch, and above all a smack-soaked odyssey of Homerian proportions following four hapless not-so-innocents over a manic twenty four hours as they cruise in a classic FX Holden searching for that elusive pure hit. There's a chemist break-in, several overdoses, a Drug Squad bust and a failed attempt at shooting Draino, all to a pounding soundtrack by a proto-version of Skyhooks. It's manic, grim, paranoid, and above all, absurdly funny. And, shot on the hoof by Deling and cameraman Tom Cowan, its guerrilla aesthetic gives it a vitality, or in Deling's words, “the kind of kinetic energy that their lives don't have. William Burroughs said he spent an awful lot of time on a bed in Tangiers staring at his toe. Not very filmic...”
Pure Shit was written partly as a document of a culture he was knee-deep in, compressed from
Always intended to deglamorize the process in a brutally honest and non-hysterical manner, the film's refusal to lay on the sermon is frequently misread as a pro-drug message. The System is clearly the villain here – the police, the methadone industry of death – while our lovable users are merely wide-eyed pawns, no wiser and no less optimistic about scoring their next hit. “It's what I believe – believed – about the whole process, that it's much broader than drugs, it's the question of not conforming, and drugs are just the metaphor. We wanted to head up over the parapets, man, and you're going to get cut down from every direction.”
“I really didn't understand how powerful the whole Middle Class Taste was. I thought what I was making was a drive in movie with a political message. And to my total, genuine amazement, the film got banned.” The decision was eventually overturned, but not without a half-page hatchet job by the Melbourne Herald's Andrew McKay declaring it “The most evil film that I've ever seen.” “Don't let anybody say that all publicity is good publicity,” laments Deling, “because that was BAD publicity. So that killed it.”
And how dies Bert regard his wayward child, now almost 35 years old? “I reckon all the key people will say it was one of the best experiences of their lives. Because we were still young, we were still enthusiastic about what we were doing... In a funny way, having no budget is a great freedom. We all moved on into the bigger industry and found it was never going to be like that again.”
Bert Deling interview with Andrew Leavold 05/05/09
Andrew: I thought the AFC had deliberately buried Dalmas (Bert’s first feature from 1973) because of its “distasteful” subject matter.
Bert: No. The reason it got a screening in
This takes us to setting up Pure Shit. You managed to secure funding for a second feature film...
Yep. They got a script that they gave $30,000 for the whole film. Which meant of course that virtually no-one got paid. Tom Cowan (cinematographer) and Lloyd (Carrick, soundman) got a small wage, but everyone else were working for nothing. And we shot the script more or less. So we got it to double head – in the old days you had an image and a soundtrack, and they were both on 16mm stock. Before you mixed the film, you were always editing with these two things running in parallel all the time. So eventually when you get to your fine cut of dialogue and action, that was called double head. There was a thing in the contract that they were to be shown the film at double head before we mixed it, before we put the music on it, before we struck the final print. The guy who was running the AFC at the time, he took vile exception – didn't say anything to us! I think it was the first time, certainly the first time up til then, he actually broke his contract and said “no, we won't give the completion money.” Under normal circumstances, that would've meant the film would lie around in pieces without ever being completed; that's what they were trying to achieve.
So the AFC were literally trying to bury this film?
Without a doubt. Bob Weekes (?) went out and beat the bushes, and from “the community” as it were, got enough money to finish the film. Without Bob's entrance at that point, there would have been no film. Then we complete this film... I really didn't understand how powerful the whole Middle Class Taste was. I thought what I was making was a drive in movie with a political message. I had all my good film viewing experiences as a kid at the drive in! Jonathan Demme made a film, Fighting Mad, which was a bit like I was trying to make; Peter Fonda plays this
I'm sure that was (executive producer Roger) Corman's solution.
That was sort of what I thought I'd made. And to my total, genuine amazement, the film got banned. No certificate allowed. It was going to be screened at the Perth Film Festival, that was its first big appearance, and we'd just got some media going about it, not a lot but some. They said “just one screening, and then...” The frustrating thing about the censorship issue is, as soon as you shine the light on the fucker - his name was Proust, Martin – what he did was scuttle back into the darkness and let the film go! It wasn't like a passionate commitment to the thought that this film should not be shown; it was that he had a mild dislike of the film so he thought he'd ban it!
And assumed you'd roll over in the process!
Precisely. So we shined the light. We got an R certificate. Every piece of media and advertising had to go over his desk. He had to personally sign off on everything. That's what he wanted. So the first night of screenings in
“The most evil film ever”?
Yeah, and that paper that everyone in
It was no longer a movie, it was an event!
Of the worst possible kind. Don't let anybody say that all publicity is good publicity, 'cause that was BAD publicity. These days if such a thing happened you'd have thousands of young people pouring into the cinemas, but there wasn't yet a kind of functioning alternative world. So that killed it. Pretty much. And after that they more or less left us alone. It did the co-ops, blah blah blah, and then just faded away. Of course within six or eight months somebody rang me up and said, “Look, we've just hired the AFI print and it's been flogged to death.” Somehow the word had got out there was a print at the AFI. Then I pulled that out of circulation. And all these years, as far as I knew, the only print was at the National Film Library and you could get it for “study purposes”. But apart from that there's been nothing.
I said to someone a few months ago, the best thing you can possibly do is make a legendary film that's no-one has seen (laughs). As soon as it gets to be available, the legend will collapse! So now we find ourselves in our current situation.
It's going out into the big wide world.
And in the best possible way too. I believe that there's two or three songs that were created by Martin Armiger, and there was a terrific music scene at the Pram Factory in Melbourne at the time as well, out of which came Skyhooks, and quite a few of those people were involved in the making of Pure Shit. Skyhooks had a lead singer who was fantastic but they had a difference of opinion about where they should go, and Kainstch? wanted to go more pop, and this guy was more of a blues singer, and so Shirl came in. But he (the original singer) is the one singing on the soundtrack. And there's Martin's music, and Red Symons was hanging around - that's Red playing the sleazy piano music on the restaurant scene. We got a lot of support from all sorts of people, and some of those people were the biggest recording studio in
John Scott (the editor), at the time he was cutting a film called Salute To The Great McCarthy, another one of those big budget Australian films that went straight down the shitter. He was cutting that during the day, and I'd turn up at six o'clock at night, and then he'd work through with me til two or three o'clock... And you couldn't think of two more different films. But the thing about working on that film, I reckon all the key people – Tom, John Scott, me - will say it was one of the best experiences of their lives. Because we were still young, we were still enthusiastic about what we were doing... In a funny way, having no budget is a great freedom. We all moved on into the bigger industry and found it was never going to be like that again.
It could also have a positive effect. A lot of people who worked on the film were either trying to get off smack, were flirting with it it, or were deep into it.
We're talking about the cast?
No the crew, as much as the cast. And personally, the front office... People said to me “Are you insane? You're making a film with junkies!” Well, nobody caused any loss of anything on that film, they were all really into it. I then decided to teach a film course, they came in and did the course; another one cecame a cameraman...
Not long after we got Pure Shit pitched, Gough got sacked. At that timer, the ABC used to give political parties, when there was an election on, five minutes of free time every night, to do whatever they wanted. So I got a phone call, “Can you be responsible for these five minutes?” Because I thought I was bulletproof at the time, I said “Fine!” They said, “What we wantyou to do is find a whole lot of people who have always voted liberal but are now going to vote Labour because of the outrage over the Dismissal. Anyway, we did do that – we did it with only one phone in our lounge room in Carlton, but with several of the people from Pure Shit ... We had Fred Schepisi and Mal Bryne (???) who was then director of the .... in
The only time you could say that we had a fuckup on our hands – you know that sequence when they break into the chemist shop ell that was a two night shoot. We did the exteriors on the first night, where the other couple turn up, then the second night was what happens inside. Well, we turn up on the second night ...
The thing about that time ... that whole thing about getting addicted to smack was veryearly in its development. Part of the reason why I wanted to make Pure Shit was that I was hanging around the Pram Factory, and it was clearly where the best minds of our generation are all hanging around together in various formations. Some of the best of them started shooting smack, and I couldn't believe it – I couldn't understand. So that was one of the motivations. So because it was so disorganized, the way these guys used to get their downers was to break into chemist shops., 'cause that's where it was after all. It hadn't got organized where the crims and the Drug Squad had got the whole thing neatly organized between them. You had to go out out and GET it. That's why we had the breaking in sequence, because they did a lot of it.
We cut to the second night of that shoot. The bloke who turns up with the other woman, HE didn't turn up. So we went into panic mode, phone arounds and drive arounds, “Where the fuck was he?”, etcetera... Then we finally discovered that what had happened was, on the day previous or perhaps that day, he'd gone up the countryside, he'd put on his Gene Simmonds KISS makeup, full white face and black eyes, and he'd gone storming into a country chemist shop with a butchers knife demanding the drugs, and the old bloke behind the counter actually had a heart attack and dropped dead! So had had to make himself scarce. We thought that's a fair excuse, it's as good as having a note from your mother (laughs). But then we had a whole script that was supposed to happen downstairs. So I had to do a fast recalculate. So what happens now is, he suffers an overdose in front of the safe, and we hear all the panic and we come in the back, and there you see his feet and his jeans and shoes in shot, and his girlfriends saying “Wake up! Wake up!” The feet actually belong to Lloyd Carrick who was recording the scene at the same time... so we just hd to pull off a fast rewrite and get it shot. But that was the only time that working with these people caused any problems at all. It was just great. And it had good, postive effects on some of them afterwards. It's a good news story either way you cut it (laughs).
There was this thing called the Buoyancy Foundation which was the earliest place where these kids could go to and feel safe. It was set up by a wealthy woman whose son had died of an overdose, and it was being run by this urban saint of a woman ....
One of the most interesting characters is the figure of the cleaner...
Well, that was Bert having a bit of a wank. In fact, I blanch every time I see it. It's what I believe – believed – about the whole process, that it's much broader than drugs, it's the question of not conforming, and drugs are just the metaphor. We want to head up over the parapets, man, you're going to get down from every direction. When Nelson Rockefeller was governor of New York, he decided that he was going to do something about these drug addict bastards, and he came up with a drug that no-one had ever used since the Second World War, because their supply of traditional opiates had been cut off. So they came up with this drug that was a sort of opiate that they'd used for pain relief. This was, of course, methadone. He brought methadone into a “treatment” program ; at that time, the standard dose for addicts was ten times what they give them today. So the addicts, after two to three years, were dying of renal failure. Cool system, man! They were getting rid of 'em without any worries at all!
It was a form of Eugenics...
Exactly! That was one issue that we were very concerned about. There was this woman who ran the psychiatric places who were giving these guys the same kind of dose. We didn't know there was a smaller dose, we just figured the drug was fucked. Her name was Stella Dalton. There was a wonderful moment when Garry (Waddell) and I got Stella Dalton on the Ray Martin Show and kicked her arse. So that was why we were concerned with methadone, just because ... you can actually see in that black and white footage, there's one or two of them who are on methadone who can put words together but only barely. We just figured they were given the right dose, but they weren't. Now they've got it down to a tenth and it's actually helping a lot of people.
But methadone addicts also talk about experiencing no pleasure from the drug...
And total addiction. If we did anything really well to transform the perception about what methadone means, and just turning it into that fun ping pong scene, which I think is one of the better things in the film, 'cause it does really convey what we were concerned about. Going back to that guy with the long hair pushing the broom – that's Bert having a bit of a wank, he is prone to do that, likes to let people know that he is a very deep person – and that's what that scene's about.
Who's the actor?
That guy was the spiritual leader/guru of a group called Tribe who were an acting group who all lived together, who were in Dalmas. His name is Doug Anders, and he did all the wonderful Tribe (?) in those days. So he took that part because I respected him greatly. But his delivery's a bit pontifical, it could've been a lot lighter, but that's just his style of doing it. But that scene's not just about drugs, it's about how society deals with anything – the Weathermen, the Black Panthers, or any of those guys who stick their heads up, they have all the guns trained on them.
Let's talk about the scrip writing process – I can only assume you were workshopping.
No. Sat around on the floor, listened to stories, then went away and wrote the script. The stories are all based on events that happened; I couldn't possibly dream them up. Then I wrote the script... Neil's got something like fifty photographs, I don't know where he found them , I thought the whole process of the film was not being recorded in any way. He found fifty photos ... There's one fantastic photograph where Helen Garner is there with the script in her hand looking absolutely anguished with me and a couple of other people standing around, because she'd just been handed the script! That was pretty much how a lot of it was done, no one had lots of time with the script . I actually pulled part of a copy of the script out the other day, and it was done on a typewriter with carbon paper! Hello?
You were hearing these stories first hand, and then synthesizing them into a script?
I had a closer relationship with just a couple of people involved – my partner's brother, for one – so I'd heard stories before. It was just about trying to string the stories together into a narrative. They take all the credit, 'cause they lived through it.
Then you sandwich the story into an incredible 24 hour period...
The funny thing about it, of course, is that it gives it the kind of kinetic energy that their lives don't have. William Burroughs said he spent an awful lot of time on a bed in Tangiers staring at his toe (laughs). Not very filmic...
Garry Waddell's had the busiest career.
Totally! He was the only one who was interested in having a film career.
So he was already established as an actor...?
No! Garry was just another guy around Buoyancy!
He comes across as a consummate pro...
Never done it before. He walked onto Pure Shit and absolutely nailed the fucker. He had some good dialogue... And from that he got FJ Holden, and a couple of other things...
He was using?
At the time of Pure Shit.
The other three leads – did they ever do any other film work?
No. John Laurie, the blond guy, wasn't the least bit interested in acting, more into woodwork and became a teacher. Funnily, became a film teacher at RMIT. Anne Hetherington was using, deep into it, went to
So she's definitely MIA...
...and probably DOA. But she was right into the action. And Carol Porter was one of the best actors at the Pram Factory, and has gone on for years to do lots of theatre. Isn't interested in being filmed, and just doesn't want to do any public stuff for Pure Shit, she doesn't like the interview process. Very quiet and sensitive soul .
And she's absolutely brilliant in the film.
Really when you look at it, none of them have much to do, but she was just fine. I had great respect for her, both as a person and as an actress. She's been doing theatre all these years; when I made the call about three months ago, she was working for a theatrical company in Penrith. They were the four.
Then there's Helen Garner and Phil Motherwell, the crazed coked-out couple.
At the time of Pure Shit, Phil had written a couple of plays at the Pram Factory; he's just a brilliant, brilliant mind. It's just a great pity he hasn't done more. I love him dearly, and he was just great...
Was Helen acting at the time?
Helen was just “around”. Helen's always been an observer. At the time she was married to Bill Garner who was a major player at the Pram Factory. Helen was School Captain at tone of the most prestigious private schools in
But that's the best part of guerrilla filmmaking – if you're making use of the resources around you, some of the greatest “accidents” happen.
Precisely. And they're called accidents but they're not.
No, it's serendipity.
Well, then they're based on past relationships that have evolved into the community that you're documenting. One of the things that Pure Shit was trying to do, and we thought would become a kind of small stream of the ongoing Australian cinema, was that you could actually make drama about issues that the straight media hadn't picked up on yet. There were things that people needed to think and know about, 'cause the whole thing about smack had not become the kind of media darling that it's become. It was just starting to happen, and we were reporting from the Front. And we thought that we could keep doing that with other things, long before it became a major article in the Sydney Morning Herald, and also more accurately. Because what happens in these kind of social evolutionaries is that by the time it gets to people's consciousness through a media that is reacting against what's happened, you never get to see why, that there might be something positive about drugs.
It's pure reaction based on fear.
Yeah. And the Establishment fighting back, and that's the first “news” you get about something important going on. And you judge their hysterical reaction to tell you that it might be something really important. But we were hoping to report from that Front, before the established media, and it didn't happen. And I guess we were gullible, but also we didn't expect the kind of incredibly aggressive negativity put on the film. And not just from one direction. So therefore you say, what's the connection? The connection is Middle Class Taste. And people joke about them, but they're like iron, they're brutal. We stuck our head over the parapet and got incoming from practically every direction!
The important thing is to do them and draw attention to who's trying to stop you. The problem is, these days people think that unless you get government money, you can't make a film. Now, I don't get that, with the technology that we now have. It's so much cheaper these days to produce something that looks like a feature film. Today you just look at the screen to see if it's ok! Back when we were young, we were just starting to see some of the cinemas from
You put your heart and soul into a film script and it gets knocked back, then you try another and it gets knocked back... and if you don't have something behind you that says “Well, I've had one success so I know what I'm doing,” if you're young, you're just being told you don't know how to do it. You don't have the Magic Touch. But when you look at something like Candy, which only uses heroin as a background environment for a 1950s love story made by people who have no knowledge... That's where we're at. But there are little thickets of hope. Accolytes by John Hewitt. There's your hope.
