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Reckless Kelly (1993)

Watching Abe Forsythe’s Ned prompted a revisit of Reckless Kelly, one of three truly singular oddball works—along with Young Einstein and Mr. Accident—from director-writer-producer-star-composer Yahoo Serious. At the risk of punching down on Forsythe—who, as mentioned in my review, proved an adroit filmmaker with Down Under—or You Can’t Stop the Murders director Anthony Mir, Reckless Kelly’s scope and throwaway inventiveness shine a harsh light on the meagre achievements of those and most Australian comedies.

Where his previous breakout hit Young Einstein—from which Serious emerged with a look and comic persona as fully-formed as another star of 1988, Roger Rabbit—put an Antipodean spin on a figure of global import, Reckless Kelly puts a Young Einstein-ean spin on a figure of local import, exporting said figure globally within the narrative. Serious stars as Ned Kelly, descendant of the infamous Ned Kelly who, in the film’s alternate history, spawned multiple generations of successful bank-robbing Kelly Gangs that stole from the rich and redistributed the wealth, Robin Hood-style, to the poor. When villainous Sir John (Hugo Weaving, occupying a space halfway between Bodyline’s Douglas Jardine and The Matrix’s Agent Smith) threatens to seize and sell the family’s heritage-listed national park island, Kelly travels to the USA where he can rob from the rich and keep the booty for himself in good conscience. In Hollywood, he becomes an unlikely action star headlining the work of schlock DTV producer Sam Delance (John Pinette) while romancing an aspiring actress (Melodia Hardin) and being pursued by Sir John’s lackey (Alexei Sayles).

I alluded to Who Framed Roger Rabbit and its animated star above. Where that similarly Hollywood-set film posits a cartoon world brushing against the ostensibly real world, Reckless Kelly remakes the real world to Serious’s sensibility [1] and infuses it with cartoon logic: Kelly is a recognizable outlaw, but is never arrested; is seemingly invincible to bullets, which he removes from his body like scabs; and can carry weapons on an international flight without impediment.

Despite its singularity, Reckless Kelly taps a number of prominent veins in Australian cinema and television, past and future: it’s anti-banks (see The Bank), anti-British (see the abovementioned Bodyline), and anti-authority & pro-underdog (see The Castle, Mr. Reliable); it tackles a figure of national lore (see Ned and the Ned Kelly films of Tony Richardson, Gregor Jordan, and unfortunately Justin Kurzel) and puts a comedic spin on said lore (see Wills & Burke, Ned again); and it touches on issues ranging from contestation of land rights (see Where the Green Ants Dream) to the economic pressures on ordinary Australians (see Three Dollars). It is also pointedly one of many English-language (mostly American) films of the late 1980s and (especially) early 90s where money—abundance of it or lack thereof—is the fetishistic catalyst for drama, be it corporate crime (Wall Street, The Firm), domestic crime (Shallow Grave), workplace sabotage (Jurassic Park), romance (Pretty Woman), or marital infidelity (Indecent Proposal).

The abovementioned commentary—as well as other commentary threaded throughout on celebrity, American gun culture, and the bowdlerization of art—situates Serious in a genealogy of filmmakers, like Joe Dante, who smuggle incisive commentary and pop culture bricolage into zany mainstream packages. While the messaging lacks the elegance of vintage Dante work, and the supporting performances are generally wobbly and unfunny, the novel, oddly-drawn, bespoke world sketched onscreen—with a Wes Anderson-esque attention to peculiar (and here frequently garish) detail in costumes, sets, and decor—make Reckless Kelly consistently engaging viewing. Serious as a screen presence is one-note but endearing—I prefer him onscreen in the hapless innocent mode of Mr. Accident than the cool outlaw mode of Reckless Kelly, though perhaps the only differentiation performance-wise is sunglasses and guns—but as a whole creative package he is hugely resourceful and sadly missed.

Ben 

  

[1] Arguably Who Framed Roger Rabbit director Robert Zemeckis would do the same in subsequent decades, to sometimes chilling effect, with his motion capture animated works.  

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