Martha Marcy May Marlene

 If you’re familiar with the series Portlandia you might have seen the skit ‘cult farm’ (series 1), where a couple order chicken and ask the waitress if the chicken was ethically treated, the waitress unfamiliar with such trivia suggests to visit the farm the chicken was raised. The couple do, but become involved in a cult community run by the farm’s male leader and many wives.  This skit sprung to mind while viewing of Martha Marcy May Marlene (2011), directed by Sean Durkin. Although admittedly in a much darker context, we see a similar theme explored.

in an organic community, Marcy May (Elizabeth Olsen) is the name given by the disturbingly good, leader and tryant Patrick (John Hawkes), who strips her of real name Martha and any other identity. Patrick manipulates her into believing she is his favourite but like the other women, she is no more than a gendered body that hangs up clothes and cooks while the men do the physical labour and ‘share’ the women sexually. But Marcy May escapes this commune and hand held camera work reveals a shift in the narrative, moving from Marcy May to Martha.

 Martha is taken on board by her egocentric sister Lucy (Sarah Paulson) and architect boyfriend Ted (Hugh Dancy). She spends the rest of the narrative at their grand holiday house three hours away from the commune. The different lifestyle confuses and challenges Martha, notably as to why their house is so big for only two people. Cutting from the past to the present, we see the different lifestyles accommodated, with naturalistic wide shots of the commune to the sterile cleanliness of the a picture perfect holiday home.

Martha Marcy May Marlene is a brilliant study of Marcy May and or Martha, who cannot differentiate between her past bad experiences in the commune and the current insecurities during time with Lucy and Ted. We learn that each of these dominate personalities(Patrick and Lucy) are as monstrous and self centred as each other and watch the gloomily tragedy that no one can truly wants to help Martha.

Somersault

Somersault (2004) focuses on 16 year old Heidi’s sexual exploration and longing for emotional closeness. The Australian film directed by Cate Shortland was a winner of 13 AFI Awards, winning in every category it was nominated. It stars Abbie Cornish (Heidi) and Sam Worthington (Joe), both pre –Hollywood.

After a confrontation involving kissing her mother’s (Olivia Pigeot) boyfriend (Damian de Montemas), Heidi leaves home in Canberra and escapes to the snow resort town of Lake Jindabyne. Eventually she meets Joe, a local farmer who finds it hard to communicate and yearns for his parent’s affection. This begins their casual and respectful relationship with each other. 

Heidi’s emotions become obsessed and narcissistic, in one scene Heidi uses a mirror to act in a pretend conversation with Joe and watch herself kiss ‘him’. It is a somewhat Travis Bickle (Robert DeNiro, Taxi Driver 1976) moment, from this scene on her character is no longer the same. Even though locals are mesmerised by her beauty, we are aware of the gaze of a potential predator, others are scared and take advantage. Heidi first encounters sleazy shop owner Roy (Paul Gleeson), on the basis of employment after he sizes her up and without hesitation says no. They meet again in the latter half of the film at her co- workers house and he informs her of being a bad influence on her co-worker and the community of Lake Jindabyne. The scene suggests rape, cutting to a vulnerable Heidi taking a bath.

Somersault is a beautiful compelling film that is dark and enriching. Although I look at Heidi’s journey to have reached a sad conclusion, it was r­­eassuring she patches up her relationship with her mother. As we see Heidi looking out her mother’s car window in tears, it can suggest that she may have been ‘rescued’, but does not mean her past is now history. The film subjectively ends for you to decide how you foresee the life of this once confident woman.

Shittown

There was controversy upon release of the film Snowtown (2011), I had even heard viewers to have walked out during its screenings. On a Sunday night about a week after its release I saw the film. As spectators had already fashioned that it was ok to leave the cinema I was determined not to.

It was hard to ignore the film’s hype or fellow friends who described it as ‘full on’, even my own prejudices as former South Australia I wanted it accurately told. When I heard the restaurant Eagle on the Hill mentioned in the film’s dialogue, I was happy. Perhaps only a South Aussie would get the reference to the once tasteful restaurant, (now closed) described on the level of a ‘bogan’. To me this demonstrated the subtlety on the characters the film adheres to throughout.

Directed by Justin Kurzel (his first feature film), along with cinematographer Adam Arkapaw who had previously worked on Animal Kingdom (2010). The film is based on the true events of the eight murdered bodies found in barrels North of Adelaide in Snowtown. These crimes were instigated by the often charismatic John Bunting (Daniel Henshall), whose persona hides a true world of hate within. Bunting manipulates the film’s protagonist Jamie Vlassakis (Lucas Pittaway an amateur found in his local shopping centre) by becoming a father figure, in much the same way as the local community are fooled by his quasi vigilante motifs. Pittaway’s natural and understated performance makes us feel sorry for the path he has crossed. Similarly this conflicting emotion occurs in Dead Man Walking (1995) the film divides between feeling sorry and repulsed by convicted killer Matthew Poncelet (Sean Penn) as well as our attitudes on the death penalty.

As I found myself glued and at no point wanting to leave, Snowtown brought guilty pleasures. I was drawn to its mundane, realistic characters and family orientated activities so familiar to us like breakfast and barbeques. Bunting spends a lot of time in the kitchen stuffing false comfort down both the character and our throats. But Snowtown does not let us get too attached the consumption of food, it becomes as nauseating as the torture scenes. Despite its torture scenes was not to give us a thrill like any torture porn, but to document the truth behind the corruption of an isolated community.

The Snowtown murders is not uncommon to the Australian public and has been well documented to the point of cult status, even today you can drive to Snowtown to buy paraphernalia. However, what is so threatening about the filmic version is its recognisable nature of human characteristics and their collapse, violence aside, Snowtown presents the harsh reality some endure.