In 1966, one of this country’s greatest if not its greatest director had to exit these shores under a cloud for the Land of Oz because the tabloid press was so ‘disgusted’ with his profoundly disturbing Peeping Tom (1960) - now an acclaimed masterpiece – and this sadly, signalled the premature end of Michael Powell’s glittering career.
Australia in those days was a retreat where creatives escaped to when things were out of kilter here. Witness Anthony Aloysius Hancock and more recently TV celeb Michael Barrymore. It was a bolt hole where anonymity and work were almost guaranteed. A place to lick wounds, safe in the knowledge, that a career may be salvaged by a grateful but supposedly less sophisticated audience.
Previously, all us non-Aussies knew about down-under movies was perhaps the film Hurry on Sundown and maybe the ubiquitous thespian Chips Rafferty. The establishment in the 1960’s of a series of Aussie film schools changed all that. Oz Film went from a dependent cottage industry to a thriving independent one with an international dimension.
Directors such as Peter Weir, Philip Noyce, Gillian Armstrong, to say nought of the kiwi Jane Campion now make movies that are both commercially successful, and critically acclaimed throughout the world.
In the vanguard of this explosion was the film BREAKER MORANT (1980), directed by Bruce Beresford and set during the second Boer War. A group of Aussie volunteers achieved a lot of success operating behind enemy lines and acting in a not so gentlemanly manner. HMG was looking for a way out of this costly South African venture, and in order to achieve a resolution, a sacrifice was needed to show good faith. Their senior officer conveniently dead, the three Aussies were ripe for offering up on the altar of appeasement. With their court martial set for the following day, an officer albeit a solicitor was ordered to defend the hapless trio, who faced the ultimate sanction should they be found guilty. Unfortunately for the three accused the newly elevated advocate’s only experience of Law was the buying and selling of real estate in the Australian outback and will drafting.
As you would expect he started off badly, and got steadily worse with his clients being less than impressed. But an Aussie is an Aussie and he got stuck in. If justice hadn’t had her scales decidedly weighted in the direction of the powers that be, in the shape of Lord Kitchener, he would have pulled off a famous victory. Had that been the case of course, we may never have known about the incident, there would not have been a film and I wouldn’t be writing this. Such is the perversity of human nature – failure engages us much more than success!
A miscarriage of justice there was, and on a grand scale to boot.
Two of the defendants were executed by firing squad the day after the inevitable verdict, with the third, because of his youth being allowed to go home, albeit on a commuted life sentence.
And as for the erstwhile advocate? He returned to conveyancing and probate work in the outback, thankful in the knowledge that his failed land transactions hadn’t ended up in a pool of blood on his waiting room floor.
The poor chap never spoke about the matter again.
But today, would metamorphosing from a conveyancer to an advocate be the stuff of nightmares? With the housing market in sharp decline, I suspect we will see a lot more conveyancers rising to their feet, if not from their dreams, presumably with the advantage of a Law Society approved course behind them – not like our indomitable colleague 100 years ago on the wind-swept veldt, who had just one restless night to hit the books and get up to speed!
‘Erh, if it pleases the erh….erhm…court…….’
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