Once upon a time, Elvira, Mistress of the Dark, hosted an unbelievably bad horror film on her late-night show. One segment left me a changed person: It was a cruel, blunt vignette about a man who distains beggars on the street, only to find himself imprisoned, for no understandable reason, behind metal doors, fed only on bottled alcohol, never allowed to bathe or change clothes. Eventually, for no understandable reason, he is released onto the street to be jeered at as he once jeered.
I may never identify this film, but I have never forgotten it. And I have never forgotten to try, even if I fail, to consider the other person’s point of view.
Australia’s “Wake in Fright,” directed by Canadian Ted Kotcheff and co-starring British actors Donald Pleasence and Gary Bond, first appeared in 1971, garnered some critical kudos and rapidly became almost impossible to see.
It opens Friday, Oct. 26, and runs through Nov. 1 at SIFF Cinema’s Film Center, and it tells essentially the same story as the aforementioned unknown segment. It does so with far more nuance, and oddly enough, given the nuance, more gore and more offhanded violence. But it does not pass judgment on its protagonist, and it invites you to consider what you would do in his stead.
Our man’s name is John Grant, played by Bond. He teaches at a tiny school in a tiny Outback community that fits in the tight radius of one simple, opening 360-degree shot. His entire world is the schoolhouse and the train station. He tends the one while dreaming of the other.
The Christmas break (in 120-degree heat) allows him that short trip to the station, and soon, Grant’s overnighting in Bundanyabba, a town five or six times larger than his teaching post.
It takes the viewer a while to figure out that he comes from a better sort of place, or, at least, imagines he does. His greetings of the barmen and the barflies of The Yabba always seem grudging, cloudy with a chance of hostility. But we go along to get along.
The men and, where seen fleetingly, the women of the Outback gorge themselves on cheap beer because they have nothing else to do — their upbringings do not provide for adaptive intellectual resources, and it’s the only thing they’ve got to beat the heat. So Grant drinks beer, gambles and, soon, loses the money he needs to get to Sydney for his vacation.
We only see Sydney, its beaches and Grant’s girlfriend in quick cuts that seem like fantasies. They also are a measure of the world away from Grant. The drink and the gambling explain how he loses access. What happens next explains how he loses his mind.
Donald Pleasence’s character, a doctor, seems at first a sad drunk. He’ll show, over time, that he’s all kinds of a drunk, each more menacing than the last. He’s reasonable in his melancholy at first. Holding on and sliding down, he answers a question about his profession with “I drink.” Later, grizzled and shirtless in his hovel, he’ll turn aggressive, then violent, then inexplicable.
Think of the Outback and the beer as sandy, hideously hot surf, under which Grant finds himself pounded. He resists at first, but bad company seems better than no company, and the alcohol, rising in his blood, robs him of rightful thinking.
Watch and set your own moral clock.