Published 2017 on Down Under Flix
Last month I reviewed two films headlined by the late, great John Hargreaves. Today’s piece spotlights two films from another great Australian actor of similar vintage. To say Jack Thompson is iconic is an understatement. He was one of the brightest new stars of the Australian New Wave, appearing in both lead and supporting roles in stone cold classics like Wake in Fright, Sunday Too Far Away, The Chant of Jimmie Blacksmith, and Breaker Morant as well as interesting flicks like Petersen, Caddie, Mad Dog Morgan, The Club, and The Journalist. He was the first male centerfold in Australia’s Cleo magazine, was awarded the first Best Supporting Actor gong at the Cannes Film Festival for Breaker Morant, was the only logical choice to embody Clancy of the Overflow in The Man from Snowy River, hosted a travel program called Jack Thompson Down Under, and in recent years has alternated between roles in Australian films and supporting turns as men of influence (lawyers, politicians, military men, businessmen) in American films. This piece highlights two star turns from Thompson’s filmography separated by twenty years: 1975’s Scobie Malone and 1994’s The Sum of Us.
Scobie Malone
Director: Terry Ohlsson
Stars: Jack Thompson, Judy Morris, Noel Ferrier, Shane Porteous
Scobie
Malone is
adapted from Helga’s Web,
a 1970 novel by Jon Cleary. Cleary, also known for penning The Sundowners, wrote 20 books
featuring detective Scobie Malone between 1966 and 2004. Terry Ohlsson’s 1975
film was the second movie derived from Cleary’s Malone novels (following a 1968
film starring Rod Taylor as the detective) and to date it’s also the last,
making the books a ripe property for adaptation. The plot of Scobie Malone revolves
around the murder of Helga Brand (Judy Morris). Malone (Jack Thompson) is
tasked with investigating Helga’s death, and the film alternates between
Malone’s investigation and extracurricular activities and flashbacks to Helga’s
dalliances with various powerbrokers.
The
shot above is from the film’s opening credits showing Malone driving across
Sydney Harbour Bridge, and from its outset Scobie Malone is gaga for its Sydney setting.
Because the film industry was still in the infancy of its renaissance, Sydney
as a city had not yet been filmed to death. Scobie Malone thoroughly taps the largely
untapped production value of the Australian metropolis, as well as its
brand-spanking new architectural icon – the Sydney Opera House – which was
completed in 1973: the city is crisply photographed in its summertime glory and
the Opera House is shot with a reverence befitting the Pyramids.
Speaking
of thoroughly taps, Thompson’s Malone does just that throughout the film’s
running time. Malone makes 007 look chaste, and while Hoodwink director Claude Whatham would approve, author Cleary took offence. By modern standards, Malone is a
promiscuous sleazeball, but the film presents him as a suave perennial bachelor
enjoying the high life and this is consistent with the loose censorship and
spirit of the films of the era, as seen in the Alvin Purple series and the
Thompson-starring Petersen.
And Thompson as an actor is so innately likable that the character still works,
more or less, as a charming rapscallion. One of Thompson’s best qualities is
finding the Everyman in larger than life characters (and conversely finding
something larger than life in the Everyman) and that gift is showcased here.
Judy Morris is also terrific as Helga and brings humanity to an essentially
enigmatic character. Ohlsson’s direction is solid, albeit with some rough
edges; Scobie Malone would
be its directors feature debut and swansong rolled into one, but he’d
subsequently produce for television, including a long stint on popular
drama The Flying Doctors.
The Sum of Us
Directors: Kevin Dowling, Geoff Burton
Stars: Jack Thompson, Russell Crowe, John Polson, Deborah Kennedy
Family
drama The Sum of Us casts
Thompson as father to Russell Crowe, then a rising Australian star with Proof, Romper Stomper and
assorted other films under his belt. Thompson’s Harry is a widowed ferry driver
who meets Joyce (Deborah Kennedy) through a matchmaking service. Crowe’s Jeff
is a young gay man who takes a liking to gardener and bartender Greg
(John Polson). The film depicts the parallel romantic lives and frustrations of
father and son and the challenges they encounter following a tragic turn of
events.
The
Sum of Us is
based on a play by David Stevens and was adapted for the screen by the author,
who also co-wrote Breaker
Morant for the screen. The film has the texture and heft of a
good piece of theatrical material, and while it retains the theatrical device
of breaking the fourth wall and having characters speak directly to the
audience, Stevens’ script also finds way to open up the play in terms of
setting and action. The Sum
of Us isn’t visually stylish or showy, and that’s a good
thing: directors Kevin Dowling and Geoff Burton (a veteran cinematographer responsible
for lensing Storm Boy, The Year My Voice Broke, The Time Guardian, and Sirens, among others) keep things
simple and in service of the material and actors.
The
Sum of Us came
out two years before Love and Other Catastrophes, and like that film strove to paint a positive portrait of gay
relationships onscreen for mainstream audiences. It does this in large part through
the warm father-son relationship at the film’s core and through presenting
Harry’s support for and approval of his son, and by extension Thompson’s
endorsement as a national icon. The scenes between Harry and Jeff are
beautifully played by Thompson and Crowe, two actors who have embodied (and
here subvert) traditional notions of Australian masculinity across different
eras. In some respects the film represents the passing of a torch from one
iconic Australian star to another who would, in subsequent years, take full
advantage of the opportunities for Australian actors abroad not necessarily
available to Thompson’s generation.
Ben Kooyman