Australian International Cinema

The limited terms in which international production is currently discussed in Australia do not allow for serious consideration of the multiple and complex ways such production enables new connections with filmmakers and audiences around the world. The narrowness of the debate also prevents us from considering fully what that production entails for Australian cinema, what it means, who it speaks to, and how it could spark new conversations about the possibilities of filmmaking and storytelling in this country.

Global and local Hollywood

The term ‘Global Hollywood’ describes the international reach of the major Hollywood studios, and the internationalisation of financing, production, distribution and exhibition of films made by the majors, or by their subsidiaries and partners. In this article we describe how one place, the Gold Coast in the Australian state of Queensland, became a ‘Local Hollywood’ or a regular location for such international film and television production.

The Hollywood effect : a comparative study of costume in Australia and the Proposition

This paper compares costuming practices in Baz Luhrmann’s Australia (2008) and John Hillcoat’s The Proposition (2005) and argues that high production values, such as in the blockbuster Australia, are not neutral mechanisms of production, but powerful prescriptive elements which do not result in a successful representation of cultural specificity. Australia is a typical blockbuster, it employs a large number of extras, it features compelling landscape shots, has been shot across four different locations and sets, and, importantly, is an international production with the 20th Century Fox. The film’s costumes were designed by Catherine Martin, who received an Oscar nomination in 2009. While global exposure of fashion in film and through celebrities’ endorsements has consolidated a historical synergy between the fashion industry and Hollywood, the Australian film and fashion industries have had a very limited exchange. Baz Luhrmann’s film is Australia’s first instance of promo-costuming and use of tie-in labels (Ferragamo, R.M.Williams, Prada, Paspaley). Catherine Martin thoroughly researched 1930s women’s wear, indigenous and stockmen’s clothing, and set up to make all costumes with a large team of costumiers and seamstresses, striving for authenticity. The Proposition won its costume designer Margot Wilson an AFI in 2005 for best costume, but compared to Australia the story, location and costumes are far harsher. Filmed around Winton in far west Queensland, the director John Hillcoat and Director of Photography Benoit Delhomme were insistent about realism, and emphasising the harshness of the Australian landscape. The realism of the costumes was derived from the fabrics and manufacturing, as well as the way they were shot, with the actors often wearing two or three layers of heavy wool during days of shooting in 50 degree heat, and the details of making and breaking down. The implication is that both films are culturally specific as they both deal with an Australian story. However, Australia is clearly produced according to a Hollywood blockbuster model, and closely matches Hollywood’s narrative and aesthetic characteristics, while The Proposition is a more modest film that eschews these conventions of beauty and glossed history. Despite its western genre-orientation, The Proposition is more successful than Australia when it comes to costuming, because its costumes are not only functional to the narrative, but, in Roland Barthes’ words, they also fulfil a prestation. This prestation highlights the social and cultural conflicts on which colonial Australia was founded, instead of gilding, and gliding, over them.

Metal Skin and the cinema of noise

In traditional communication and information theory, noise is the demon Other, an unwelcome disruption in the passage of information. Noise is "anything that is added to the signal between its transmission and reception that is not intended by the source...anything that makes the intended signal harder to decode accurately". It is in Michel Serres' formulation, the "third man" in dialogue who is always assumed, and whom interlocutors continually struggle to exclude. Noise is simultaneously a condition and a by-product of the act of communication, it represents the ever present possibility of disruption, interruption, misunderstanding. In sonic or musical terms noise is cacophony, dissonance. For economists, noise is an arbitrary element, both a barrier to the pursuit of wealth and a basis for speculation. For Mick (Jeremy Sims) and his mate Kev (Ben Mendelsohn) in David Caesar's Idiot Box (1996), as for Hando (Russell Crowe) and his gang of skinheads in Geoffrey Wright's Romper Stomper (1992), or Dazey (Ben Mendelsohn) and Joe (Aden Young) in Wright's Metal Skin (1994) and all those like them starved of (useful) information and excluded from the circuit - the information poor - their only option, their only point of intervention in the loop, is to make noise, to disrupt, to discomfort, to become Serres' "third man", "the prosopopoeia of noise" (5).

Knowing

Directed by Alex Proyas, the Knowing is an action-packed science-fiction disaster movie. A well-known Australian director working in Hollywood, Proyas has developed an international reputation for stylised fantasy and science-fiction movies, including the neo-gothic movie The Crow (1994), the complex science-fiction film Dark City (1998), and the adaptation of Isaac Asimov’s sci-fi classic I, Robot (2004) which earned almost US$350 million theatrically worldwide. Knowing was produced for US$50 million and relies heavily upon special effects (including a visually impressive sequence of the world being destroyed) and high-octane action sequences (including a notable plane crash). Knowing’s cast included Australian actors, Rose Byrne and Ben Mendelsohn, and American actor Nicolas Cage. While Knowing received typically poor critical reviews, the movie performed well at the box-office earning over US$183 million worldwide.

'It's Africa. It's Arizona. It's Antarctica. It's Afghanistan. Actually, it's Alberta' : Marketing locations to film producers

This chapter begins by outlining the dynamics of contemporary international film production and the inherent tension between ‘design interest’ and ‘location interest’. A history of the promotion of particular places as filmmaking locations (including Hollywood) is presented, prior to the establishment of the first film commissions. The creation of international associations and their role in professionalization, norm setting and the standardization of offerings and activities, is then described. The chapter concludes with a discussion of commissions’ work, the emergent discourse of ‘film friendliness,’ and the differences between location marketing and other kinds of destination marketing.

Reflections from damaged modernity

The cliché about modern architecture being the fairy-tale fulfillment of every fantasy ceases to be a cliché only when it is accompanied by the fairy tale’s moral: that the fulfillment of the wishes rarely engenders goodness in the one doing the wishing (Adorno). Wishing for the right things in architecture and the city is the most difficult art of all: since the grim childhood-tales of the twentieth century we have been weaned from dreams and utopias, the stuff of modernism’s bad conscience. For Adorno writing in 1953, Hollywood cinema was a medium of “regression” based on infantile wish fulfillment manufactured by the industrial repetition (mimesis) of the filmic image that he called a modern “hieroglyphics,” like the archaic language of pictures in Ancient Egypt which guaranteed immortality after death in Egyptian burial rites. Arguably, today the iconic architecture industry is the executor of archaic images of modernity linked to rituals of death, promises of omnipotence and immortality. As I will argue in this symposium, such buildings are not a reflection of external ‘reality,’ but regression to an internal architectural polemic that secretly carries out the rituals of modernism’s death and seeks to make good on the liabilities of architectural history.

Cinema Cities, Media Cities: The Contemporary International Studio Complex

This report, written for the Australian Film Commission (now Screen Australia) is the first major study of the development and role of studio complexes in the spread of film production around the world. The report is divided in to five chapters. First, it examines policy-making around studios, including government support for new facilities around the world. Second, it situates the phenomenon of the contemporary studio complex within the international production ecology. Third, it provides examples of the three types of studio complex: production precinct; cinema city; and media city. Fourth, it describes the networks of production that sustain studios. And fifth it explores the place of the studio in the relationship between 'local' and international production.

The iconic and the critical

Theodor Adorno was opposed to the cinema because he felt it was too close to reality, and ipso facto an extension of ideological Capital, as he wrote in 1944 in Dialectic of Enlightenment. What troubled Adorno was the iconic nature of cinema – the semiotic category invented by C. S. Peirce where the signifier (sign) does not merely signify, in the arbitrary capacity attested by Saussure, but mimics the formal-visual qualities of its referent. Iconicity finds its perfect example in the film’s ingenuous surface illusion of an unmediated reality – its genealogy (the iconic), since classical antiquity, lay in the Greek term eikōn which meant “image,” to refer to the ancient portrait statues of victorious athletes which were thought to bear a direct similitude with their parent divinities. For the postwar, Hollywood-film spectator, Adorno said, “the world outside is an extension of the film he has just left,” because realism is a precise instrument for the manipulation of the mass spectator by the culture industry, for which the filmic image is an advertisement for the world unedited. Mimesis, or the reproduction of reality, is a “mere reproduction of the economic base.” It is precisely film’s iconicity, then, its “realist aesthetic . . . [that] makes it inseparable from its commodity character.”...

Reflections on damaged modernity: Lessons from the iconic architecture industry

For Adorno writing in 1953, Hollywood cinema was a medium of “regression” based on infantile wish fulfillment manufactured by the industrial repetition of the filmic image that he called a modern “hieroglyphics”—like the archaic language of pictures in Ancient Egypt, which guaranteed immortality after death in Egyptian burial rites. From that 1953 essay Prolog zum Fernsehen to Das Schema der Massenkultur in 1981, Adorno likened film frames to cultural ideograms: What he called the filmic “language of images” (Bildersprache) constituted a Hieroglyphenschrift that visualised forbidden sexual impulses and ideations of death and domination in the unconscious of the mass spectator. In his famous passage he writes, “As image, the image-writing (Bilderschrift) is a medium of regression, where the producer and consumer coincide; as writing, film resurrects the archaic images of modernity.” In other words, cinema takes the spectator on a journey into his unconscious in order to control him from within. It works, because the spectator begins to believe the film is speaking to him in his very own image-language (the unconscious), making him do and buy whatever capitalism demands. Modernity for Adorno is precisely the instrumentalisation of the collective unconscious through the mediatic images of the culture industry.

Public history, private memories: Historical imagination in the new Italian cinema 1988-1999

The concern with the following arguments started during a study of national and international cinemas, from the desire to account for a cinema that internationally was doing well, but was undervalued domestically. The aims were to account for the renewal of Italian filmmaking from 1988, the New Italian cinema, and understand the conditions behind this renewal. The thesis identifies in the historical theme and in the recurrence of features from Italian cinema history elements of coherence with previous cinema production. The first consideration that emerges is that a triangulation between a new generation of filmmakers, their audience and recent history shaped the recovery of Italian cinema from 1988. A second consideration is that no discussion of Italian cinema can be separated from a discussion of that which it represents: Italian society and politics. This representation has not only addressed questions of identity for a cohort of spectators, but on occasions has captured the attention of the international audience. Thus the thesis follows a methodologic approach that positions texts in relation to certain traditions in Italian filmmaking and to the context by taking into consideration also industrial factors and social and historical changes. By drawing upon a range of disciplines, from political history to socio-psychological studies, the thesis has focussed on representation of history and memory in two periods of Italian film history: the first and the last decade of twentieth century. The concern has been not so much to interpret the films, but to understand the processes that made the films and how spectarors have applied their knowledge structures to make meaning of the films. Thus the thesis abstains from ascribing implicit meanings to films, but acknowledges how films project cultural contingencies. This is beacause film is shaped by production conditions and cultural and historical circumstances that make the film intelligible. As Bordwell stated in Making Meaning, "One can do other things with films besides 'reading' them" (1989, p. xiii). Within this framework, the thesis proposes a project that understands history films with the norms that govern Italian filmic output, those norms that regulate conditions of production and consumption and the relation between films from various traditions.

Every face on Vanity Fair’s Hollywood covers 1995-2008

‘Every face on Vanity Fair’s Hollywood covers 1995-2008’ renders an ethnographic-like study of Hollywood celebrity as a cinematic experience. Viewers are presented with constantly mutating portraits that violently twist and shear into other faces, while an immersive soundscape echoes the turbulent painterly surface. Through technical processes of scaling, looping and image morphing; the work explores a positive affectual response to the seductive power of celebrity imagery. Conceptually, given Vanity Fair magazine’s prestigious stature, the work also performs an ethnographic-mapping of the popularity of Hollywood stars over time, while at the same time creating in-between, ‘mutant’ versions of their visages. The installation explores the potential for fan-based responses to pop culture to lead to artworks that enable a more critical response to the subjective and intersubjective dynamics of celebrity portraiture. Questions are raised about how these cultural forms impact pop culture fans, and their role in the mapping of culture and social experience.

Workers are doing it for themselves? Local labor solidarity in precarious times

Historically, organized labor has played a fundamental role in guaranteeing basic rights and privileges for screen media workers and defending union and guild members (however unevenly) from egregious abuses of power. Yet, despite the recent turn to labor in media and cultural studies, organized labor today has received only scant attention, even less so in locations outside Hollywood. This presentation thus intervenes in two significant ways: first, it acknowledges the ongoing global ‘undoing’ of organized labor as a consequence of footloose production and conglomeration within the screen industries, and second, it examines a case example of worker solidarity and political praxis taking shape outside formal labor institutions in response to those structural shifts. Accordingly, it links an empirical study of individual agency to broader debates associated with the spatial dynamics of screen media production, including local capacity, regional competition, and precariousness. Drawing from ethnographic interviews with local film and television workers in Glasgow, Scotland, I consider the political alliance among three nascent labor organizations in the city: one for below-the-line crew, one for facility operators, and (oddly enough) one for producers. Collectively, the groups share a desire to transform Glasgow into a global production hub, following the infrastructure developments in nearby cities like Belfast, Prague, and Budapest. They furthermore frame their objectives in political terms: establishing global scale is considered a necessary maneuver to improve local working conditions like workplace safety, income disparity, skills training, and job access. Ultimately, I argue these groups are a product of an inadequate union structure and outdated policy vision for the screen sector , once-supportive institutions currently out of sync with the global realities of media production. Furthermore, the groups’ advocacy efforts reveal the extent to which workers themselves (in additional to capital) can seek “spatial fixes” to suture their prospects to specific political and economic goals. Of course, such activities manifest under conditions outside of the workers’ control but nevertheless point to an important tension within capitalist social relations, namely that the agency to reshape the spatial relationships in their own lives recasts the geography of labor in terms that aren’t inherent or exclusive to the interests of global capital.