14 hours ago.
Updated 10 hours ago
The White Lotus, Australian style. Set in our Hamptons/Cotswolds wannabe, the Southern Highlands of NSW. A 30th birthday celebration. Three Sydney couples. A weekend away, a bouji farm. The unbearable lightness of privilege. Keenly observed by others with a history of trauma and dispossession. An acerbic satire rich with ideas, skewering the disconnect in contemporary Australia.
Consider the professions: an arms industry manager who works in “military avionics” (in other words, missiles); an ABC commissioning editor; a musician who now makes “jingles for Smiggle”; a documentary maker of extreme earnestness; a painter; a finance guy who does “markets” (he’s questioned by a creative type: “What does that mean? It’s illusion, right?”); and overseeing them all, an Indigenous “curator” with a messy domestic life. What could possibly go wrong?
All the insecurities bubbling to the surface; the masks, subterfuges, jealousies. It’s a birthday weekend for one of three women who met at school; their men don’t know each other. The guests are trying to get good wi-fi among charcuterie spreads, badminton and stargazing. Social anxiety gives way to a communal congealing. Illicit kisses. A spillage of honesty. Guilt.
Initially the ensemble cast present as insufferable, cashed-up Sydney types, but you feel for them in the end. That’s the skill of writer/director James Robert Woods, who’s also credited as drone operator, composer, performer of songs and painter of pictures in the movie. The reality of Australian filmmakers now. Do it yourself, for so many. The Birthday Trip was shot chronologically, much of it on a handheld camera, and independently distributed. Good on him.
It’s a clever script. Woods has captured a Zeitgeist moment; an Australian milieu, ripe for drama, that’s not usually tackled on our cinema screens.
He’s described the Indigenous character, Felix, as the “moral core” of his feature, yet his racial tropes feel slightly on the nose. And technically, The Birthday Trip isn’t quite up to scratch; the sound is odd at times. But the ensemble is tight, vividly delineated, and the satirical writing generally smart.
There are some eviscerating truths in this film, including a conversation about the state of Australian cinema. What do these educated 30-somethings know of it? Kenny is mentioned vaguely, and Babe, and The Dry, that’s it. None really engages with Oz film. A dire sign of the times. Veteran actor Rob Carlton spoke of the worrying state of Australian distribution at the end of the screening I attended. “It’s getting back to old school in regards to touring around the country, as an acting troupe, taking the show on the road.” The tough, expensive reality for independent Australian filmmakers. Check if The Birthday Trip is playing at an indie cinema near you because it won’t be lasting long. A pity, because it has interesting things to say.
The Birthday Trip (MA15+)
In cinemas
★★★½
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Nikki Gemmell Chief Film Critic