Jul 25, 2023·edited Jul 25, 2023Liked by Librarian of Celaeno
Gallipoli is also a very spiritually right-wing film in its adoration of the physical beauty and tragic manliness of the diggers (it's got a Homeric atmosphere, which I suspect was intentional; such was certainly an element of Australian war propaganda at the time, a more literate age). It *is* an antiwar film but mostly in the right sort of way, if you know what I mean.
In the blue skies contrasted with red and ochre earth, the deliberate aural merging of the screeching of cockatoos into the nasal whooping of stockmen and many other images it's a patriotic film with a preternatural apprehension and appreciation of the Australian landscape. There's also admiration for the pioneering spirit and its resolve to maintain Anglo civility in the unheeding bush (you picked up on this also in Picnic at Hanging Rock), but it also hints strongly at the alienation of the struggling British-descended settler from an environment spiritually remote from him.
However, there's a sense (and this is the only thing I don't like about it) in which it's peddling the wrong kind of patriotism. It bears a republican, anti Old Country chip on the shoulder: the stuff about the British drinking tea on landing at Suvla Bay while the diggers vault suicidally out of the trenches into machine gun fire at The Nek is patently wrong and no better than a cheap shot designed to play up to old Australian anti-English sentiment.
This anti-Pom strain in Australian patriotism was sort of historically justifiable and mostly good natured before about 1960 but metamorphosed into a burning impulse--first among the turbulent Irish (going much further back actually), then among Greek, Croat, Italian etc. post-war migrants and more latterly among Chinese, Arabs, Indians, you name it--to sever the country from its British origins and to replace the old country ties with...a congeries of resentful subaltern identities (aka 'multiculturalism'). That's where 'republicanism' got us in the end--and all without our ever becoming a republic.
The film indeed gives a subtle nod towards the ethnosectarian rift in Australia (British Protestant vs. Irish Catholic), present until at least the 1970s and comes down lightly on the side of the Irish. But it's no big deal and doesn't ruin the film for me.
It's also funny:
Major Barton, interrogating prospective volunteer recruits, to Mel Gibson as Frank Dunn: 'Any previous military experience DUNN?
Dunn: 'Yes Sir--five years in the Melbourne horse cadets'
Barton: Never heard of em
Dunn: 'Well...no Sir...They never got as much recognition as they deserved Sir...'
The acting is wonderful. Mel Gibson is of course magnificent, as is Mark Lee as Archie Hamilton. I never understood why he didn't kick on afterwards--he was extremely handsome and very talented.
The depictions of the residual Victorian atmosphere of British imperial culture in Cairo, the souq and the pyramids, the Greek prostitutes in the brothels are so true you can almost smell em.
Most of all it shows the viscosity of bonds between young men--a sort of colonial mannerbund. We call it 'mateship' and fool ourselves that it's uniquely Australian. If the last 10 or 15 minutes (especially the final few frames) don't get you, nothing will.
It's my favourite film by far by my favourite director--by anybody in fact--but maybe you have to be (a certain kind of) old-stock Australian to really feel it.
Witness is probably Weir's next best (hard to choose between it and Master and Commander). I particularly commend to you the barn-raising scene, one of the greats.
Anyway apologies for going on and on and thanks for the amusing and perceptive article, with its due recognition of Peter Weir
I would be interested to see a full essay on the film from you; I think you make some great points and what you have here should be expanded upon. I had in the back of my mind the mateship culture as I wrote my piece.
Thank you--I appreciate your appreciation. I don't write on substack (or anywhere else except as necessary to make a living), but I suppose I could give it a go one of these days. Might remove a few incidences of 'also' and some parentheses while I'm at it.
Thank you for writing this. I believe that Peter Weir is one of the greatest filmmakers of our time - far surpassing Spielberg in depth and quality. I only wish he had made more films before retiring.
Oy, mate. I reckon I need to step in here a squiz and dob-ya in on one minor quibble:
"Cuisine in Australia centers on a substance called Vegemite, which extends life and expands consciousness and is collected by spice harvesters in the Outback, and Cooper’s Sparkling Ale, NOT Fosters as many ignorant Americans believe"
Wretchemite is..well, give my old blog a read. Should set ya straight, mate:
May I recommend, Bad Boy Bubby and The Proposition as a counterpoint
Bwahahahahaha I introduced Bad Boy Bubby to some Millenials last year.
They was shocked, shocked I tells ya.
I have not seen it, but from the description I read it seems like a mix of The Voices and Sleepwalkers.
Gallipoli is also a very spiritually right-wing film in its adoration of the physical beauty and tragic manliness of the diggers (it's got a Homeric atmosphere, which I suspect was intentional; such was certainly an element of Australian war propaganda at the time, a more literate age). It *is* an antiwar film but mostly in the right sort of way, if you know what I mean.
In the blue skies contrasted with red and ochre earth, the deliberate aural merging of the screeching of cockatoos into the nasal whooping of stockmen and many other images it's a patriotic film with a preternatural apprehension and appreciation of the Australian landscape. There's also admiration for the pioneering spirit and its resolve to maintain Anglo civility in the unheeding bush (you picked up on this also in Picnic at Hanging Rock), but it also hints strongly at the alienation of the struggling British-descended settler from an environment spiritually remote from him.
However, there's a sense (and this is the only thing I don't like about it) in which it's peddling the wrong kind of patriotism. It bears a republican, anti Old Country chip on the shoulder: the stuff about the British drinking tea on landing at Suvla Bay while the diggers vault suicidally out of the trenches into machine gun fire at The Nek is patently wrong and no better than a cheap shot designed to play up to old Australian anti-English sentiment.
This anti-Pom strain in Australian patriotism was sort of historically justifiable and mostly good natured before about 1960 but metamorphosed into a burning impulse--first among the turbulent Irish (going much further back actually), then among Greek, Croat, Italian etc. post-war migrants and more latterly among Chinese, Arabs, Indians, you name it--to sever the country from its British origins and to replace the old country ties with...a congeries of resentful subaltern identities (aka 'multiculturalism'). That's where 'republicanism' got us in the end--and all without our ever becoming a republic.
The film indeed gives a subtle nod towards the ethnosectarian rift in Australia (British Protestant vs. Irish Catholic), present until at least the 1970s and comes down lightly on the side of the Irish. But it's no big deal and doesn't ruin the film for me.
It's also funny:
Major Barton, interrogating prospective volunteer recruits, to Mel Gibson as Frank Dunn: 'Any previous military experience DUNN?
Dunn: 'Yes Sir--five years in the Melbourne horse cadets'
Barton: Never heard of em
Dunn: 'Well...no Sir...They never got as much recognition as they deserved Sir...'
The acting is wonderful. Mel Gibson is of course magnificent, as is Mark Lee as Archie Hamilton. I never understood why he didn't kick on afterwards--he was extremely handsome and very talented.
The depictions of the residual Victorian atmosphere of British imperial culture in Cairo, the souq and the pyramids, the Greek prostitutes in the brothels are so true you can almost smell em.
Most of all it shows the viscosity of bonds between young men--a sort of colonial mannerbund. We call it 'mateship' and fool ourselves that it's uniquely Australian. If the last 10 or 15 minutes (especially the final few frames) don't get you, nothing will.
It's my favourite film by far by my favourite director--by anybody in fact--but maybe you have to be (a certain kind of) old-stock Australian to really feel it.
Witness is probably Weir's next best (hard to choose between it and Master and Commander). I particularly commend to you the barn-raising scene, one of the greats.
Anyway apologies for going on and on and thanks for the amusing and perceptive article, with its due recognition of Peter Weir
I would be interested to see a full essay on the film from you; I think you make some great points and what you have here should be expanded upon. I had in the back of my mind the mateship culture as I wrote my piece.
Thank you--I appreciate your appreciation. I don't write on substack (or anywhere else except as necessary to make a living), but I suppose I could give it a go one of these days. Might remove a few incidences of 'also' and some parentheses while I'm at it.
Let me know if you decide to pursue it. I encourage you to post however you like, but if you wish to collaborate, let me know.
Yes, Antiwar in the way you mean I get. War is not glorious, but ugly, mean, dirty and bloody.
Just like ANZAC Day was supposed to be about, but now has been turned into a quasi religious spectacle of worship and Last Stand trumpeting.
I would agree that Gallipoli was far more explicitly anti war than Master and Commander, which I feel had a subtler critique.
The Man from Snowy River, by George Miller is a good introduction to George Miller's many fine works too.
Yes gud film
I will have to check it out.
Up here in Canada we are officially known as “Snow Australians”. Nice try
Thank you for writing this. I believe that Peter Weir is one of the greatest filmmakers of our time - far surpassing Spielberg in depth and quality. I only wish he had made more films before retiring.
Never knew about these movies, interesting review definitely gonna have to pick it up and watch it! Thanks for recommending them!
Ton stack est toujours si superbe, et contient tellement d'info et de faits que je toujours exciter de l'ouvrir Librarian!
On the subject of fine Australian cinema I’d suggest a watch of the awesome Breaker Morant as a rewarding if genuinely upsetting experience.
Oy, mate. I reckon I need to step in here a squiz and dob-ya in on one minor quibble:
"Cuisine in Australia centers on a substance called Vegemite, which extends life and expands consciousness and is collected by spice harvesters in the Outback, and Cooper’s Sparkling Ale, NOT Fosters as many ignorant Americans believe"
Wretchemite is..well, give my old blog a read. Should set ya straight, mate:
https://engineerincognito.wordpress.com/2015/05/19/exploding-vegemite/
Good stuff. I had a professor who had lived in England who swore by Marmite, a similar product.
Haven’t read this essay yet; will finally watch Picnic at Hanging Rock and report back.
Let me know what you think.