- Culture
- 18 Aug 06
Using the same chorus structure made popular by Short Cuts and Crash, this singular Australian drama refuses to connect all the dots until the very last moments.
Using the same chorus structure made popular by Short Cuts and Crash, this singular Australian drama refuses to connect all the dots until the very last moments. This stands in sharp contrast to the main characters, who are all seen to spend their time projecting patterns onto the world around them. As the camera turns to the sky, finding order among flocks of wild birds to emphasise the point, they order their existences around the approach of death. This isn’t entirely irrational in the circumstances.
Already obsessed with mortality, the artist-heroine (Clarke) becomes even more preoccupied when, returning home from her father’s funeral, she witnesses a man getting hit by a train. Her inner-most thoughts, realised in pretty animation, are almost as grim as the life-flashing montages we come to associate with her new lover, a photo-journalist (McInnes) recently diagnosed with cancer.
Sarah Watt’s award-winning debut feature renders this potentially depressing material in surprisingly hopeful, feel-good terms. Multiple narrative strands remind us of weddings and births and children to provide counterweight to the heavy subject matter. The results make you think of a funeral parlour as run by Richard Curtis.