DVDevotee Roxy Music More Than This

In North by Northwest, Hitchcock was aiming for a light and breezy frolic flick; a stark reaction against the heavy symbolism he was so fond of. 50 years on, it’s fair to say he succeeded and failed in equal measure. The film is regarded as one of the best ever made – it’s the perfect synthesis of Cold War spy drama, mismatched love story, a classic case of mistaken identity, wry humour, sparkling dialogue and iconic imagery. Two in particular stand the test of time easily over 50 years on – Cary Grant (as Roger Thornhill or George Kaplan, depending on who is calling) being run down by an ominous and tenacious crop duster in an empty field and an epic cat-and-mouse set piece on Mt Rushmore. Unlike most films half a century old, North by Northwest barely shows its age. The darting, grid-like opening credits designed by the legendary legend Saul Bass remain breathtaking and timeless – a point not lost on the Mad Men production team, who have played an obvious homage with their own falling man version (also riffing on Bass’ work with Hitch again in Vertigo). The deference extends even further with Grant as Thornhill playing the quintessential Madison Avenue advertising executive.

Grant breezes effortlessly through the film in a haze of confusion, righteous indignation and flirtation in one of his defining and most beloved roles. James Mason is at his hammy best as his foil (Phillip Vandamm), the man orchestrating the elaborate hit job… knifings at the United Nations, forced drink driving incidents dressed up as accidents and the crop duster, amongst other things. The harder Thornhill argues his innocence, the guiltier he appears. It’s a simple conceit played beautifully in a taught, fast-paced but not overbearing way. This 50^th Anniversary edition includes an entire disc of worthwhile and illuminating extras – but the film itself is the main attraction. It’s the gold standard.

I’ve been very much enjoying the current ABC music doco Seven Ages of Rock, but when it came to the punk music revolution of the 1970s, the usual suspects were casually trotted out. Of course bands like The Sex Pistols, The Clash and Television get the juices flowing, but what about seminal Australian artists like The Saints and Radio Birdman, who spearheaded a golden age of musical creativity? Further down the track, non- Countdown embracing bands from the late 1970s such as The Primitive Calculators, Boys Next Door and Thrush and the Cunts could really get those juices flowing. And this is kinda what Dogs in Space, the superb 1986 feature length debut from Richard Lowenstein, is all about. It has only recently arrived on DVD, and both the packaging and bonus mini-feature on the super vibrant post-punk Australian scene are excellent. Furthermore, I can now toss out a well worn video cassette copy, and finally embrace pristine digital. The film is set in inner city Melbourne in the late 1970s and covers a fertile period sometimes described as the ‘little band scene,’ which valued authentic self-expression over commercial appeal. The ‘little’ part of the equation was perceived as the appropriate antidote to pernicious mainstream influence and Lowenstein avoids spoon feeding viewers the standard quick fix, instead focussing on the punk engendered Australian counterculture in all its fast-paced, hilarious and often absurd glory. The late Michael Hutchence turns in a suitably unselfconscious performance as the lead singer of semi-fictional band Dogs in Space. His character ‘Sam,’ who is based on the very real Sam Sejavka from obscure avant-garage band The Ears, strikes a desirable chord from the onset through his mostly comical but ultimately tragic attempts at countercultural salvation. Human empathy in rough times is the basic theme, but this movie is intrinsically tied to the music, and the accompanying soundtrack is absolute killer.