Into the Shadows / Back into the light
Everybody has an opinion about why independent cinemas are disappearing and most Australians films fail with mainstream audiences, but until today, nobody had made a documentary about it. Paul Hayes spoke with the one man who did, Andrew Scarano.
This has been a banner year for high quality Australian cinema, with one of the most impressive slates of local films in years. What would be even more impressive is if more people had seen them. It’s true that Mao’s Last Dancer has been huge, totalling $10.8 million at press time, while two titles (Charlie & Boots and Samson & Delilah) have crossed the $3 million mark and five others (My Year Without Sex, Disgrace, Balibo, Mary & Max and Beautiful Kate) have earned more than $1 million each. But their share of the local box office remains far from the 10 percent that Screen Australia considers a ‘healthy’ percentage.
Why are the punters staying away, those masses that often push even minor US releases to box office heights that most Australian films can only dream of?
This is the $64,000 question for the local film industry, one that director Andrew Scarano and producer Phil Hignett tried to answer with their feature documentary Into the Shadows.
It’s become commonplace to say that Australian films cannot offer a light, fun and enjoyable night at the cinema, with their tendency to present gritty dramas instead of pure entertainment. Into the Shadows says that, while there is certainly some validity to this argument, it only tells part of the story.
A look at the present and past of the Australian film industry from twenty-something Canberra filmmakers Scarano and Hignett, Into the Shadows presents an authentic who’s who industry interviewees who suggest that the problem is as much about exhibition and terms of trade as it is about content.
DEATH OF THE INDEPENDENTS
Starting life as a documentation of the last months of the life of iconic Canberra independent cinema Electric Shadows in 2006, the film evolved into a look at the closure of independent cinemas all around the country and, eventually, at the entire Australian film industry.
Recent years have seen the demise of the Lumiere, Valhalla and Longford in Melbourne, as well as the near closure of Sydney’s Chauvel. These had traditionally been the screens on which local content could play, and when films often struggle to get 15 screens nationally, their disappearance has been deeply felt.
“As newcomers, looking at that situation opened our eyes a little bit and we thought ‘what about the other side of the film industry?’,” Scarano told Encore. “What about the cinemas and the distributors? What sort of role do they play in the whole thing? We then decided to look at the film industry as a whole.”
Eventually, these questions led Scarano back to the ultimate one, how do we connect with our audiences?
“There was a period recently where you could say that the subject matter was what people have called the ‘kitchen-sink drama’,” Scarano said. “Underneath that elitist perception of what the industry produces, that Australian film can be put into a box, there is a diverse range of filmmakers that we don’t always hear about and don’t always get support.
“This year has seen diversity in terms of the films that have been released. And when we do look outside of the independent arthouse feel – Kenny, Priscilla, Australia – people do want to connect with the stories, but it is hard to achieve that on a consistent level.”
AND THE ANSWER IS?
Part of the answer can also be traced back to funding, specifically the government kind. “People are trying to find that magic box that is going to save all of the problems,” Scarano said. “The filmmakers of the moment, who have made the films we’ve seen over the last 10 or so years, have been brought up in the environment where to get a film made that is how you do it.”
It is this reliance, Scarano says, that has informed the types and styles of the films delivered.
Sue Maslin, producer of 2003’s Japanese Story, one of the few recent Australian films to make a serious dent at the local box office with a $5 million-plus haul, also points to the funding methods as a potential barrier between filmmakers and audiences.
“A whole bunch of Australian films have not really been required to connect with audiences,” she says in the film. “Quite frankly, they get their money because they survive the hurdles of the funding bodies. They tick the right boxes.”
The lack of government funding – aside from a small ScreenACT and Screen Australia grant at the post-production and promotional stages – increased the level of credibility of Into the Shadows. By not relying on that kind of funding through the production process, Scarano and Hignett not only had more integrity in the face of potentially sceptical industry personalities, but were also free to make the film they wanted to make. “We were not too concerned about government funding until the end, because we didn’t want to be seen as creating a biased film,” Scarano said.
“Sometimes I think of what we could have done if we had had support along the way, but that is almost a comment on the way it is in the industry itself.”
Ultimately Into the Shadows offers an open ending and no definitive answers on how to get Australian audiences in front of Australian films. It offers none because there are none, since making a successful film is a challenge in any environment.
“The reason why we left the film open is that everyone seems to have a different point of view, and it is quite a complex thing to figure out, why is this not working, why is that working?” Scarano said. “People are trying to find a magic box to solve all the problems.
“Part of the issue is just the process of making films; it is very hard to make a film that works on all levels, all the time… but one of the key elements is diversity in terms of filmmakers and types of stories. And everyone we interviewed, heads of big companies or independents, everyone seems to have a passion for Australian films and care about their success or failure… it’s just whether we can put all the pieces together.”
With a limited release by Ronin Films on October 29, the film was promoted with preview screenings and panel discussions in Sydney, Melbourne and Adelaide.
While it’s undoubtedly made with a passion for the subject matter, its performance could well suffer the disease it is warning filmmakers about. Will a film about an industry that is struggling to connect with its audience in the first place, find an audience itself, or is it preaching to the converted?
“Hopefully not. The core audience will definitely be film students and people within the industry. Everyday people are not always privy to what goes behind the scenes, but everybody watches movies, so it’s a chance for anyone who loves cinema to learn a little bit.
“It’s a challenge for myself and the distributor, to appeal to a larger demographic. If it does, that would be great, but if it doesn’t, I’ve learned that you must hope for passion and word of mouth to spread and influence others and make them ask questions.”
