He Ain't Heavy

He Ain't Heavy is the debut feature from Perth writer/director, David Vincent Smith. It's a very prosaic look at addiction and what it can do to the family unit. In this case, the addicted person is Max, played by Sam Corlett. His mum, Bev, is played by Aussie/Italian/British (in that order) screen legend, Greta Scacchi. But the lead, and heart of the film, is Jade, a fantastic Leila George. She's the strung-out, desperate sister of Max, who hits upon a slightly controversial way of trying to get her brother clean.

The confronting opening scene sets up the rest of the film - Jade arrives at a house where a ruckus is occurring, namely Max trying to violently force his way into his mum's house. Eventually, he succeeds and buggers off in Bev's car, only to smash it a few metres down the road. Max scarpers quick smart, mum collapses and is briefly taken to hospital. Jade is at the end of her tether and the chance to clear out her recently passed away Grandma's house gives her and recovering Bev something to do. But this house on the outskirts of the city offers another opportunity.

This is pretty harrowing at times but it's underscored by a warmth, a familial closeness - to begin with between Jade and Bev, but later between all three of the main players. It helps that Scacchi is George's mum in real life (my actual comment to Roly after the film, "They've nailed the casting, George really looks like she could be Scacchi's daughter." Idiot, me). The whole cast is great, though the only other character with more than a few lines is Jade's mate, Tegan (Alexandra Nell), ostensibly making the film a three-hander.

From a Perth perspective, it's interesting to see familiar streets and buildings, but it doesn't have any truck with 'tourism' cinematography - it probably could have been any city in Australia. To Smith's credit, he avoids the provincial look of many Aussie first features, presumably on a tiny budget as well. One minor issue I had was the title. Sure, a certain vintage of folk will understand the reference, but probably not the majority of viewers, and aside from the obvious lyrical connection, it doesn't have much to do with a song from the 70s (or the earlier religious background of the phrase).

While not a particularly original premise, this is a confident, assured film, lifted immeasurably by the performances of George, Corlett and Scacchi. A tight piece of urban Aussie cinema.

He Ain't Heavy opens at the Luna cinema on Oct 16th.

See also:

Another Perth writer/director, Ben Young made his feature debut with the excellent Hounds of Love (2016). Scacchi was in Robert Altman's The Player (1992), with George's father, Vincent D'Onofrio.

Megalopolis

Woof, it was hard work getting through this one. Francis Ford Coppola, paterfamilias of a filmmaking dynasty (many of whom are a part of this mess), has been sitting on this idea for decades. The kernel comes from the Catilinarian conspiracy of 63 BCE (thanks again Wikipedia) where a Roman politician, Catalina attempted to overthrow Cicero. By transposing this story over the crumbling American Empire, Coppola is biting off a lot. You'd think if anyone can chew all this, it'd be this guy, who not only gave us the Godfather films, The Conversation and Apocalypse Now, but also paved the way for the new wave of young tearaways of US cinema in the 1970s and 80s. George Lucas, Brian De Palma, Martin Scorsese and Steven Spielberg, among others, all owe some debt to the ground-laying of Coppola.

So what happened with Megalopolis? There's a film in here but you have to clear away the extraneous clumps of dirt hanging onto the edges of it. For argument's sake, let's say the central premise of tearing down the bloated, corrupt old world and offering a new improved society for the huddled masses has potential. And let's give some props to the lead pairing of Cesar Catilina (Adam Driver) and Julia Cicero (Nathalie Emmanuel) as they have some chemistry going on. But the clumps of dirt will take a wire brush to remove. The dialogue needs fumigating, the pacing is inconsistent and the tone is all over the shop. Some of the esteemed cast play it like they're at the Old Vic; others like they're at Pinewood studios for a Carry On film.

On that cast - Driver seems to have bought into Coppola's 'vision', for better or for worse; Emmanuel tries very hard, and is generally compelling, though she disappears from the screen for lengthy stretches; Aubrey Plaza, as Wow Platinum, and Shia LeBeouf, as Clodio Pulcher, are having a right old lark; Dustin Hoffman, as Nush Berman, is collecting the pay cheque and probably doing a favour for Francis; Jon Voight, as Crassus, is enjoying the ham banquet; the list goes on - Giancarlo Esposito, Talia Shire, Jason Schwartzman, Laurence Fishburne, it certainly shows what pulling power Coppola still has (though sister Shire and nephew Schwartzman probably had little choice). 

But where's the quality writing, like in his earlier work? Because this script is awful - it's all Shakespearean speeches and stagy ruminations on the future of society. As soon as Driver started the 'To be or not to be' soliloquy, I knew where this was headed. To be fair, the direction is slightly better than the writing but it all still seems like it was based on the rambling notes of a stoned uni student who's just come out of a double screening of Metropolis and Things to Come. 

The pseudo-futuristic guff is also strangely reminiscent of that odd Disney (Parks) film with Clooney, Tomorrowland. Unsurprisingly though, I could have done with more of the sci-fi and less of the supercilious proselytising. Maybe this stuff flew in the late 70s when he first conceived of it but I reckon audiences these days might not appreciate all the bloviating.

Look, fair play to the geezer for spunking his own money on this vanity project - honestly, he can do what he wants. I just hope he doesn't expect people to like it. Oh, and it's not the worst film I've seen this week, either.

See also:

ANY of the above-mentioned Coppola films, to remind ourselves of his past greatness. Failing that, I'd recommend seeing nothing for a week or so. Maybe try a factory reset.

Joker: Folie à Deux

Trepidation was the key feeling going into this screening of Todd Phillips' sequel to his 2019 hit Joker.  After a kooky animated opening (made by French animator, Sylvain Chomet), the film begins with Arthur Fleck in Arkham Asylum, waiting for a decision on whether he's fit for trial or not. The events of the first film aren't too far back and a lot of this edition covers the court case - a neat way to bring us up to speed, but also a huge part of this film's issues. You see, I think this whole film is a 'mea culpa' for the first Joker. The court scenes build up to an expected crescendo of action, or at the very least some sort of vindication for Arthur/Joker. But the actual climax is a damp squib, followed by a dramatically undeserved denouement. The whole final third felt like a cop-out. Did Phillips take note of some of the criticism of Joker and plan a filmic apology for all the 'nihilism'? Or had he always planned this kind of absolution? I guess only he knows.

It isn't all bad news, though. The early set-up with Brendan Gleeson's prison guard, Jackie, and Lady Gaga's Lee Quinzel (Harlequin) are tightly edited and well acted. Joaquin Phoenix is great, as always and his wandering mind sequences are reintroduced early on, so there are no sneaky rug-pulls for later. Catherine Keener brings some calm to the show as Arthur's lawyer, Maryanne, and Steve Coogan even gets a run out as sleazy TV journo, Paddy. There's nowt wrong with any of the cast, except that Gotham DA, Harvey Dent is played by a dude who sounds like a young Kevin Spacey, and has a very slappable mug.

Now, my pre-film concerns had a lot to do with the fact that this was being sold as some kind of musical, and how they were going to attempt this had the makings of a multi-car pile-up. In fairness, they just about pulled off that aspect of the movie. Most of the singing and dancing was done within the fantasy bubbles of Arthur's mind and some of the songs were fine - The Carpenters Close to You, Bee Gees To Love Somebody, That's Entertainment from The Bandwagon. Only, it seems that because they scored Gaga, the filmmakers decided to go for broke and pepper the film with musical numbers. By the end, Arthur tells Lee he doesn't want to sing any more. Well, it's a bit fucking late for that, matey.

The bigger problem is that it's a two hour plus film that builds to nothing more than a realisation on Arthur's part that he has done wrong. As his acolytes abandon him, we're left with an oddly empty finale with no real resolution and a wasted character in Lee - are we to believe that she's really so fickle, after all her actions pointed to the contrary? It's a shame Gaga is given such short shrift towards the end, as she's great in this, her charisma shines throughout. 

Unlike the first film, there's precious little evidence of society's downtrodden masses (apart from in Arkham Asylum itself). You could buy the fact that the Joker was seen as some sort of punk saviour from all of Gotham City's filthy rich bigwigs and their corruption. Here, he's just a bit of a loser, his celebrity peaking at the end of the first film and steadily sliding ever since. All the time he's copping shit from the guards, being patronised by lawyers, officials and journalists, even taking a backseat to Lee's forceful antics, we're wondering what he's got up his metaphorical sleeve. Well, aside from his sometimes violent, sometimes debonair flights of fancy, the answer is, in the real world....fuck all. Overall, a sadly missed opportunity and, more egregiously, a waste of a great cast.

Joker: Folie à Deux opens Oct 3rd around Australia.

See also:

Phoenix performs one of the best split-second reactions I've ever seen in Paul Thomas Anderson's uneven Inherent Vice (2014). I also just rewatched Martin McDonagh's brilliant The Banshees of Inisherin (2022), which stars Brendan Gleeson.

(Film stills and trailer ©Warner Bros, 2024)