Towards an understanding of Australian genre cinema and entertainment : beyond the limitations of ‘Ozploitation’ discourse

While Australian cinema has produced popular movie genres since the 1970s, including action/adventure, road movies, crime, and horror movies, genre cinema has occupied a precarious position within a subsidised national cinema and has been largely written out of film history. In recent years the documentary Not Quite Hollywood (2008) has brought Australia’s genre movie heritage from the 1970s and 1980s back to the attention of cinephiles, critics and cult audiences worldwide. Since its release, the term ‘Ozploitation’ has become synonymous with Australian genre movies. In the absence of discussion about genre cinema within film studies, Ozploitation (and ‘paracinema’ as a theoretical lens) has emerged as a critical framework to fill this void as a de facto approach to genre and a conceptual framework for understanding Australian genres movies. However, although the Ozploitation brand has been extremely successful in raising the awareness of local genre flicks, Ozploitation discourse poses problems for film studies, and its utility is limited for the study of Australian genre movies. This paper argues that Ozploitation limits analysis of genre movies to the narrow confines of exploitation or trash cinema and obscures more important discussion of how Australian cinema engages with popular movies genres, the idea of Australian filmmaking as entertainment, and the dynamics of commercial filmmaking practises more generally.

Lost children and imaginary mothers in Sonya Hartnett's Of A Boy

In Powers of Horror, Julia Kristeva writes about lost children. These are what she calls “dejects,” who, in the psychodrama of subject formation, fail to fully absent the body of the mother, to accept the Law of the Father and the Symbolic, and subsequently to establish “clear boundaries which constitute the object-world for normal subjects.” Dejects are “strays” looking for a place to belong, a place that is bound up with the Imaginary mother of the pre-Oedipal period. Kristeva’s sketch of the deject as one who is unable to negotiate a proper path to the Symbolicis useful to a reading of Hartnett’s Of A Boy (2002),a novel that also deals with lost children and imaginary mothers. However, in its portrayal of children who are doomed to never achieve adulthood, Of A Boy enacts a haunting retrieval of the pre-Oedipal from the dark side of phallocentric representation, privileging the semiotic (Kristeva’s concept) and the maternal as necessary disruptive checks on a patriarchal Symbolic Order.

The experience of xenophobia in South Africa

In May 2008, xenophobic violence erupted in South Africa. The targets were individuals who had migrated from the north in search of asylum. Emerging first in township communities around Johannesburg, the aggression spread to other provinces. Sixty-two people died, and 100,000 (20,000 in the Western Cape alone) were displaced. As the attacks escalated across the country, thousands of migrants searched for refuge in police stations and churches. Chilling stories spread about mobs armed with axes, metal bars, and clubs. The mobs stormed from shack to shack, assaulted migrants, locked them in their homes, and set the homes on fire. The public reaction was one of shock and horror. The Los Angeles Times declared, “Migrants Burned Alive in S. Africa.” The South African president at the time, Thabo Mbeki, called for an end to “shameful and criminal attacks.” Commentators were stunned by the signs of hatred of foreigners (xenophobia) that emerged in the young South African democracy. The tragedy of the violence in South Africa was magnified by the fact that many of the victims had fled from violence and persecution in their countries of origin. Amid genocidal violations of human rights that had recently occurred in some countries in sub- Saharan Africa, the new South Africa stood as a beacon of democracy and respect for human dignity. With this openness in mind, many immigrants to South Africa sought safety and refuge from the conflicts in their homelands. More than 43,500 refugees and 227,000 asylum seekers now live in South Africa. The majority of people accorded refugee status came from Burundi, Democratic Republic of Congo, and Somalia. South Africa also hosts thousands of other migrants who remain undocumented.

Idyll number eleven

This is a short horror story formulated in the research process for the novel "That Blackfella Bloodsucka Dance!"

Wolf Creek by Sonya Hartnett

Australian screen classics are seminal for a range of reasons: whether it is a particular title’s popularity and impact upon popular culture, its cultural and textual meaning, or what the film tells us about the social, political and cultural climate from which it emerged. Wolf Creek (Greg McLean, 2005) is undoubtedly an Australian screen classic. The film was an impressive low-budget breakout success, which played a big part in the renaissance of contemporary Australian genre cinema by opening doors for genre filmmakers targeting international markets in ways that haven’t been seen in Australia since the 1980s. Wolf Creek has become the quintessential Australian horror movie. It has captured collective national fears and anxieties about the Australian outback – the isolation, the repressive desolation, the idea that the landscape itself is your enemy. It challenges traditional representations of Australian masculinity and the “ocker larrikin” to show a negative image of the rural ocker which dominated Australian screen in the 1970s and, to lesser extent, the 1980s.

A silver bullet for Australian cinema? Genre movies and the audience debate

There has been a renaissance in Australian genre cinema in recent years. Indeed, not since the 1980s have Australian genre movies across action, adventure, horror, and science-fiction among others, experienced such prominence within production, policy discourse, and industry debate. Genre movies, typically associated with commercial filmmaking and entertainment, have been identified as a strategy to improve the box-office performance of Australian feature films and to attract larger audiences. Much of this conversation has revolved around the question of whether or not genre can deliver on these high expectations and transform the unpredictable local film industry into a popular and profitable commercial production sector. However, this debate for the most part has been disconnected from analysis of Australia’s genre movie heritage in terms of their position within Australian cinema and their reception with domestic audiences, and how this correlates to contemporary trends. As this chapter argues, genre production is not a silver bullet which will single handedly improve the Australian feature film industry’s commercial performance. Genre movies have occupied, and continue to occupy, a difficult position within Australian cinema and face numerous challenges in terms of reception with national audiences, limited production scale and enterprise structures, and ongoing tensions between culture and commerce.

Towards an understanding of Australian genre cinema and entertainment : beyond the limitations of ‘Ozploitation’ discourse

While Australian cinema has produced popular movie genres since the 1970s, including action/adventure, road movies, crime, and horror movies, genre cinema has occupied a precarious position within a subsidised national cinema and has been largely written out of film history. In recent years the documentary Not Quite Hollywood (2008) has brought Australia’s genre movie heritage from the 1970s and 1980s back to the attention of cinephiles, critics and cult audiences worldwide. Since its release, the term ‘Ozploitation’ has become synonymous with Australian genre movies. In the absence of discussion about genre cinema within film studies, Ozploitation (and ‘paracinema’ as a theoretical lens) has emerged as a critical framework to fill this void as a de facto approach to genre and a conceptual framework for understanding Australian genres movies. However, although the Ozploitation brand has been extremely successful in raising the awareness of local genre flicks, Ozploitation discourse poses problems for film studies, and its utility is limited for the study of Australian genre movies. This paper argues that Ozploitation limits analysis of genre movies to the narrow confines of exploitation or trash cinema and obscures more important discussion of how Australian cinema engages with popular movies genres, the idea of Australian filmmaking as entertainment, and the dynamics of commercial filmmaking practises more generally.

Out of position : the ball park of humour in contemporary art

This practice-led research project explores how humour can be employed to develop a methodology for examining the socio-political dimensions of contemporary art practice. This research aims to identify and elaborate on how using the evasive strategies and elliptical frameworks associated with ideas of the absurd and nonsense can lead to new ways of understanding the nexus between social, political and cultural practices. This is achieved primarily through an examination of the art practices of Marcel Duchamp, Bruce Nauman, and Martin Kippenberger. These artists contextualise this research because in different ways they all engage with humour as a device to critique conventional notions of how art can be read or understood. Using these strategies the project aims to demonstrate new ways for considering how visual art can use humour to creatively and critically investigate the relationships between art and the social.

Writing the Barbaric Recent Past : Holocaust Fiction for Young Adults

Horror and redemption in Holocaust writing for young adults: Marcus Zusak’s The Book Thief, John Boyne’s The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas. While it has long been thought that the Holocaust is not an appropriate subject matter for young audiences, from The Diary of Anne Frank onwards it has always been part of their reading matter. Never, however, has there been so much interest as in the recent best-selling publications by Zusak and Boyne (the latter of which has been made into a film). This chapter examines the politics of crafting stories for young people about the unspeakable events of the recent past, about who has the right to ‘speak for’ the victims, and whether some genres (for example, fairy stories or fabulism) work best, given the horrific nature of the subject matter.

Mainstream monsters : the otherness of humans in Twilight, the Vampire Diaries and True Blood

The representation of vampires in horror movies and television programmes has changed considerably over the last two decades. No longer is the vampire portrayed simply as a monster or representation of death. Now, the vampire on our screen such as True Blood’s Bill Compton, or Twilight’s Edward Cullen, passes as human, chooses to make morally sound decisions, becomes an upstanding assimilated citizen, works in the community, and aspires to be a husband to mortal women. The success of recent series such as The Twilight Saga (2009, 2010, 2011, 2012), The Vampire Diaries (2009 - ) and True Blood (2008 - ) has popularised the idea of vampires who cling to remnants of their humanity (or memories of what it means to be human) and attempt to live as human, which builds upon similar – albeit embryonic – themes which emerged from the vampire sub-genre in the 1990s. Within these narratives, representations of the other have shifted from the traditional idea of the monster, to alternative and surprising loci. As this chapter argues, humans themselves, and the concept of the human body, now represent, in many instances, both abject and other. The chapter begins by considering the nature of the abject and otherness in relation to representations of classical vampires and how they have traditionally embodied the other. This provides a backdrop against which to examine the characteristics of the contemporary mainstreaming vampire ‘monster’. An examination of the broad thematic and representational shifts from other to mainstream vampire demonstrates how mainstream monsters are increasingly assimilating into mortal lifestyles with trappings that many viewers may find appealing. The same shifts in theme and representation also reveal that humans are frequently cast as mundane and unappealing in contemporary vampire narratives.

Exploring Bodies in Time and Space

While the body, time and space are fundamental to human experience, comparatively little attention has been given to the connections between them. Here scholars from a wide range of disciplines explore important themes of embodied life in time and space across cultures, activities and bodymind states. Motivated by a common desire to deepen and extend our comprehension of these phenomena and the connections and conversations between them, this book emerged from intense inter-disciplinary dialogue during the 1st Global Conferences on Time, Space and the Body and Body Horror. A plenitude of theoretical approaches and media are deployed to investigate assumptions and pose problems, to creatively deconstruct and reconstruct the terms through which experience is rendered meaningful, pleasurable, and functional. These investigations, pursued through various research methods in fields of the arts, social and psychological sciences and humanities, invite readers into a genuinely pluralistic conversation around the most basic and profound aspects of being.

Introduction : Understanding Connections between Time, Space and the Body

The experiences and constructs of time, space and bodies saturate human discourse—naturally enough, since they are fundamental to existence—yet there has long been a tendency for the terms to be approached somewhat independently, belying the depth of their interconnections. It was a desire to address that apparent shortcoming that inspired this book, and the interdisciplinary meetings from which it was born, the 1st Global Conferences on ‘Time, Space and the Body’ and ‘Body Horror’ held in Sydney in February 2013. Following the lively, often provocative, exchange of ideas throughout those meetings, the writing here crosses conventional boundaries inhabiting everyday life and liminal experiences, across cultures, life circumstances, and bodily states. Through numerous theoretical frameworks and with reference to a variety of media, the authors problematize or deconstruct commonplace assumptions to reveal challenging new perspectives on the diverse cultures and communities which make our world. If there is an overarching theme of this collection it is diversity itself. The writers here come from numerous academic fields, but a good number of them also draw on first-hand cultural production in the arts: photography, sculpture and fine art instillation, for example. Of course, however laudable it might be, there is a potential problem in such diversity: does it produce fruitful dialogue moving toward creative, workable syntheses or simply a cacophony of competing, incomprehensible, barely comprehending voices? To a large degree this depends upon the intellectual, existential ambitions as well as the old-fashioned goodnatured tolerance of both writers and readers. But we hope three unifying characteristics are discernable in the following chapters viewed as a whole: firstly, a genuine concern for the world humans inhabit and the communities they form as bodies in space and time; secondly, an emphasis upon the experience of the human subject, exemplified perhaps by the number of chapters drawing on phenomenology; thirdly, an adventurous, explorative impulse associated with an underlying sense that being, since it is inseparable from the body’s temporality, is always becoming, and here the presence of poststructuralist influences is unmistakable, often explicit. Our challenge as editors has been to present the enormous variety of subjects and views in a way that would render the book coherent and at the same time encourage readers to make explorations themselves into realms they might usually consider beyond their field of interest. To that end we have divided the book into six sections around loosely defined themes, each offering different angles on how time and/or space unfold in and around bodies.

Pasture Degradation and Recovery in Australia's Rangelands : Learning from History

"The extended drought periods in each degradation episode have provided a test of the capacity of grazing systems (i.e. land, plants, animals, humans and social structure) to handle stress. Evidence that degradation was already occurring was identified prior to the extended drought sequences. The sequence of dry years, ranging from two to eight years, exposed and/or amplified the degradation processes. The unequivocal evidence was provided by: (a) the physical 'horror' of bare landscapes, erosion scalds and gullies and dust storms; (b) the biological devastation of woody weeds and animal suffering/deaths or forced sales, and; (c) the financial and emotional plight of graziers and their families due to reduced production in some cases leading to abandonment of properties or, sadly, deaths (e.g. McDonald 1991, Ker Conway 1989)."--Publisher website

Writing Indigenous vampires: Aboriginal gothic or Aboriginal fantastic?

The usual postmodern suspicions about diligently deciphering authorial intent or stridently seeking fixed meaning/s and/or binary distinctions in an artistic work aside, this self-indulgent essay pushes the boundaries regarding normative academic research, for it focusses on my own (minimally celebrated) published creative writing’s status as a literary innovation. Dedicated to illuminating some of the less common denominators at play in Australian horror, my paper recalls the creative writing process involved when I set upon the (arrogant?) goal of creating a new genre of creative writing: that of the ‘Aboriginal Fantastic’. I compare my work to the literary output of a small but significant group (2.5% of the population), of which I am a member: Aboriginal Australians. I narrow my focus even further by examining that creative writing known as Aboriginal horror. And I reduce the sample size of my study to an exceptionally small number by restricting my view to one type of Aboriginal horror literature only: the Aboriginal vampire novel, a genre to which I have contributed professionally with the 2011 paperback and 2012 e-book publication of That Blackfella Bloodsucka Dance! However, as this paper hopefully demonstrates, and despite what may be interpreted by some cynical commentators as the faux sincerity of my taxonomic fervour, Aboriginal horror is a genre noteworthy for its instability and worthy of further academic interrogation. (first paragraph)

Uninhabited

"A young couple go to a remote and deserted coral island for a camping holiday, only to find that the island is inhabited by a ghost seeking retribution for a past outrage. - Written by Bill Bennett " "Synopsis: Based on actual events…. Harry and Beth want a different kind of holiday. So they charter a boat to drop them off on a remote coral island on the Great Barrier Reef. The island is idyllic – surrounded by a wide reef, covered in palms and full of birds and other wildlife, small and totally deserted. Or is it? The young lovers soon come to believe there is someone else on the island. Things go missing from their camp – and then they discover someone else’s footprints in the sand. What they didn’t realise was that the island has a ghost – a young girl who had died in shocking circumstances some eighty years earlier. The ghost at first plays mischievously with the young couple, but then turns malevolent. And their idyllic island holiday becomes a nightmare."