Not Welcome:

Writing Horror in Australia

S.P. Krause

A feature film screenplay and exegesis submitted for the requirements of the Master of Arts (Research).

Faculty of Creative Industries Queensland University of Technology

2005

ii

Keywords

Producers, Projects, Writing, Pitching, Drama, Screenplay, Horror.

iii

iv

Abstract

“Not Welcome” is a thesis containing an original dark genre screenplay called Acolytes

and an exegesis called “Not Welcome”: Writing Horror in Australia.

The screenplay is about two boys, victims of years of bullying, who find a way to rid

themselves of their bully for good, exchanging one problem for something much worse.

But it’s an elaborate and calculated lie. The truth is Acolytes is about the concealment of

a crime and not the vengeance of a victim. Acolytes is intentionally moody, oppressive

and obtuse—it has a true crime-scene ambience. The power of the story lies in its truth—

the truth that it seeks to uncover and the truth of the style of its telling—and, just as is the

case with real-life crime, the “truth” is often murky and far from clear-cut.

The accompanying exegesis explores the domestic funding and production climate for

dark genre projects. It argues that Australian genre scriptwriters and filmmakers have

often faced hostile funding agencies and genre-timid producers. It examines the

requirements of dark genre scriptwriters and filmmakers in bringing their work from page

to screen. It argues that the onus is on Australian dark genre writers and filmmakers to

think beyond funding agencies and institutionalised Australian producers to realise their

projects.

v

vi

Table of Contents

Keywords iii Abstract v Statement of Original Authorship ix Acknowledgements xi Not Welcome: Writing Horror in Australia 1

Introduction 2 Horror and Sci-Fi Will Not Be Considered 5 Review of Context and Literature 9 Screenplay: Acolytes 21 Case Studies: Kraal and Acolytes 164 Conclusion 186

Bibliography 190 Filmography 192

vii

viii

Statement of Original Authorship

The work contained in this thesis has not been previously submitted for a degree or

diploma at any other higher education institution. To the best of my knowledge and

belief, the thesis contains no material previously published or written by another person

except where due reference is made.

Signature:________________________________ Date:____________________________________

ix

x

Acknowledgements

Thanks to Shayne Armstrong, a staunch passenger in pain. Thanks a heap also to Stuart

Glover, Gerard Lee, Lachlan Madsen and Steve Waugh.

xi

xii

“Not Welcome”: Writing Horror in Australia

1

Introduction:

On 4 May 1982, two off-duty soldiers from Enoggera Barracks picked up two thirteen

year-old boys hitchhiking on the Gold Coast Highway. They took them to remote

bushland and murdered one boy after torturing him for hours. They were creative

about it. They sliced holes in his ears with a leather punch and cut his pubic hair off,

forcing his friend to eat it. Then they made him eat sand. They also played a version

of piggy-in-the-middle with knives, stabbing and slashing the boy as they pushed him

back and forth. When they were sick of these games, they urinated on him, partially

scalped him, then buried him alive. For reasons only known to themselves, they drove

the other boy home.

I was thirteen years-old when I heard this. I didn’t know all the details then—I’ve

since researched it—but what I did know genuinely haunted me. At thirteen I’d

already read about concentration camps and killing fields but this sort of stuff didn’t

happen in Australia—I hadn’t yet read about the Beaumont Children. But the torture

and murder of a Queensland boy exactly my age was too close to home. I made

connections. One of my father’s best mates was stationed at Enoggera Barracks and

we had spent some bland Sundays there with his smart-arse kids. The highway the

two boys were snatched from was the same one we used every year for our two-week

holiday at Surfers Paradise.

In 1981 “Dream World” was a new theme park and just about the greatest thing I’d

ever seen. My old man took us there on the Christmas holidays that year and we ran

amok. Like most theme parks it has a sprawling car park at the front of it. Six months

later this was where the two men stopped briefly to handcuff the boys to their seats.

They are loose connections but were strong and real enough in my thirteen year-old

mind to put me inside the car and in the bushland with Terry Ryan and Peter Aston. I

imagined it all. This is partly where Acolytes came from.

Years later, I was introduced to the artwork of Frederick McCubbin and the quirks of

a West Australian couple called the Birnies. They both made an impression. It was a

couple of Frederick McCubbin paintings that got the script started. What I responded

2

to in McCubbin was his attitude toward the Australian landscape. It’s the same bleak

one that Henry Lawson wrote about and Banjo Patterson romanticized to become a

star. Bad things happen in McCubbin’s country. Little girls and boys wander off from

picnics and perish, family members, most likely children, die on the way to new and

remote homes. Prints of Bush Burial and the two Lost paintings hung over my

computer for the duration of the writing. In my opinion, he’s one of a handful of

Australian painters good enough to steal from. The other thing I like about McCubbin

is that his images come with a truckload of story and mystery. You could extrapolate

entire scripts from some of his pictures and in my own way I did.

The Birnies, on the other hand, are not to be admired but have contributed indelibly to

Acolytes. In 1986, over a five-week period, David and Catherine Birnie abducted,

raped, tortured and murdered four women at their suburban home in Perth. They

would have kept on going but their latest “guest” escaped and walked naked to a local

shopping centre where she told police her story. The Birnies were husband and wife

“Tandem Killers”. It’s an uncommon dynamic anywhere else in the world except for

Australia. Private Paul Luckman and Corporal Robin Reid (the two soldiers who

murdered 13 year-old Peter Aston) were same sex tandem killers but like the Birnies,

and most other tandem killers, they share similar profiles. One is dominant, the other

submissive. But that doesn’t mean the submissive partner derives no pleasure from

forced sexual acts and the infliction of pain and death. Catherine Birnie and Private

Paul Luckman enjoyed themselves.

In Acolytes, the Birnies, Luckman and Reid, were the touchstone for my Ian and Kay

Wright. The whole miserable lot of them have worried me since the start of my teens.

But at the same time I’m fascinated with them. I’ve tried to get to the bottom of how

they’re able to hurt and kill for their own brief pleasure but I’ve never gotten far. It

would worry me if I did. I don’t understand them and I don’t know what creates them.

Maybe there’s a switch in their minds that turns itself off. Acolytes is the first time

I’ve written about them.

But Acolytes springs just as much from American suburban nightmares such as

Arlington Road (1999, Mark Pellington), River’s Edge (1986, Tim Hunter), Donnie

Darko (2001, Richard Kelly) and Apt Pupil (1998, Bryan Singer). These films, at least

3

to me, have a strong European sensibility as do my favourite Australian films since

the revival—Picnic at Hanging Rock (1975, Weir’s high profile heist of the Box Hill

painters), The Devil’s Playground (1976, Fred Schepisi), Year My Voice Broke (1987,

John Duigan). Some great Australian directors have made their careers from co-opting

a European sensibility and in the process created Australian cinema.

What this European sensibility means for me is not treating the audience like children.

It’s not about wish fulfillment, good versus evil, easy answers and solutions. Order is

not restored. Everything is not going to be all right. Bad guys are not slapped in

handcuffs and punishment isn’t prison but inside minds and hearts. These are stories

for grownups.

4

“Horror and Sci-Fi Will Not Be Considered”

Strangely, for a country that has produced world-class maniacs like Martin Bryant and

Ivan Milat, Australia does not have a rich history in horror filmmaking. Contrary to

those accounts which sees violence in part produced by exposure to violent cultural

artifacts including films, our real-life maniacs appear not to be influenced or

encouraged by our horror movies since there have been few of them to be influenced

by.

The Australian film industry has, however, coughed up a handful of horror films,

most during the 10BA tax rebate period, where producers broke their leashes from

funding agencies and made the kinds of movies they wanted to see or they felt they

could sell. As Tom O’Regan observes:

Government corporations had once set the production agenda

through their selection of what to invest in. Under the new

conditions private enterprise set the agenda. This ensured that the

logic of the film marketplace would encourage commercially-

orientated investment. (p.119)

With the roll back of 10BA—to a point where it became irrelevant to investors—

government film funding bodies reclaimed significant control of what Australians

filmmakers are permitted to make and the stories they are allowed to tell. With the

Film Finance Corporation’s recent restructuring and its commissioning of two internal

assessment officers (both from an art house background) it is now even more unlikely

that an honest dark genre project will gain entry.

In this turn back to the government teat and to government gate keeping, horror, the

bad boy genre, has fared poorly. It may be that the subsistence of the genre has been

undermined by its own underdeveloped history of practice in Australia. The

possibilities for local horror production may, however, have been most seriously

impeded by the approach of the film funding bodies. In the early 1990s, I recall

funding guidelines that stated “horror and sci-fi will not be considered”

5

I got the message. Though I grew up immersed in the genre, reading and viewing

anything that was likely to disturb and distress (sadly seldom achieved), as a

scriptwriter I intentionally (but reluctantly) steered clear of horror. In no uncertain

terms, funding bodies were telling Australian filmmakers that horror was “not

welcome” 1. Because the AFC and then the FFC have not supported or encouraged

the horror genre Australian producers on the whole have kept clear of it. This absence

gives rise to a question for Australian filmmakers (producers, writers and directors)

interested in horror: why spend enormous amounts of time and money on something

that no funding body will support? And if you were to pursue a horror project in such

conditions, how would you actually get it made?

Research Question For twelve years, as I resisted the temptation of horror and dark genre writing, I toyed

with the first question. But in 2002 I finally yielded and wrote a horror script, Kraal,

(with my regular co-writer Shayne Armstrong), and in 2003 I wrote another, Acolytes.

Since then I have been toying with the second question of how to get the work made.

This exegesis, in providing an account of what happened, provides some answers as to

how to get horror made in Australia. In this paper, I want to suggest three things, i)

that the market and institutional conditions have a profound effect on the approach of

the horror film scriptwriter; ii) to make a horror film in Australia, or more plausibly

from Australia, the writer/filmmaker must negotiate a series of institutional, domestic

and international market barriers; and iii) the writer must through various

intermediaries take the script into the market and continue to make opportunities for

the script with or without an attachment to a producer. Alternatively, many

contemporary genre writers/filmmakers are more likely to find success producing a

project themselves.

Methodology This exegesis is a case study account of the writing and marketing of Acolytes and a

sister horror project Kraal. While similar, they have important differences, but

1 Finding written proof of such guidelines proved difficult. While I was able to locate some earlier funding guidelines—their general quality was one of opacity through detail, rather than a clear proscription of horror and science fiction projects. It may be the exclusion of horror and science fiction film operated as much through a subtle discourse about what constituted an Australian film as through formalised policy.

6

together they provide a portrait of the factors impacting on the writing and the project

marketing of horror and dark genre material. The methodology uses institutional

approaches to screen practice. That is, I examine the function of various agents and

institutions in the production of screen production and circulation. While such

approaches are common as part of the policy and institutional turns in Australian

cultural studies and Australian cultural policy studies (see O’Regan and Moran on

Australian film and Stevenson on arts funding), they are usually from academic

perspectives. This thesis is intended as a practitioner account of the processes of

horror film writing and subsequent project development. Consequently, the research

strategy is that of practice led research or research by creative practice. As the

creative project was undertaken, the processes of development, and the chain of

market negotiations were closely documented through journals in order to provide

qualitative data towards this account. In the first instance this is augmented by a

critical account of horror feature filmmaking in Australia retrieved from Hood’s and

O’Regan’s accounts, then a more detailed account of three recent horror films, Saw

(2004), Wolf Creek (2005), and Undead (2003). Given the paucity of material, and the

scale of this exegesis, this account is necessarily limited, but provides a context for

the Kraal and Acolytes case studies which follow. I track the development of Acolytes

and Kraal through diary entries, and an accompanying critical commentary relating to

three issues in horror film development listed above that I particularly wish to

emphasize. The journal was written over six-months, from 12 March to 21 August

2003.

The journal is intended to give an account of the three “adventures” which the writer

faces in approaching his or her work. The first is the odyssey of writing the work.

This involves decisions about the structure of the work, characters, tone and plotting.

As is evident from the journal, initially this is a relatively solitary task driven by

concern for the work’s own logic and qualities. The second adventure is the

negotiation of what happens when the work is released into the market. This involves

a very different set of skills. Here the writer turns outwards away from the solitude of

the desk towards a series of institutional and market relationships. As is evident from

the journal, in taking this step, the writer must surrender considerable control both

economically and aesthetically. The writer, the producers, and the funding bodies are

all interested in new films being made, but this is a fraught and conflictual process.

7

The third adventure is the realisation of the work. I have not yet experienced the third

great adventure but I know plenty about the first two. The journal account and my

commentary on it reflects upon the first two adventures in pursuit of the third.

8

Review of Context and Literature: The Moral Uplift of Mein Kampf: Horror in

Australia

If Australian horror came within coo-ee of a “golden age” it was in the 1980s,

particular the early part of the decade when the 10BA tax rebate was at its most

generous. As O’Regan tells us:

It would be difficult to find a more interesting period in

Australian film history than the 1980s. There was the experiment

of a government-inspired tax shelter: the so-called tax incentives

which provided levels of production funding and activity that had

been hitherto unheard of in Australian film production. The

average number of feature films doubled from 15 in the 1970s to

27 in the 1980s. (p.119)

It was horror filmmaking’s time in the Australian sun. From being the rarest of genres

during the first decade of the film renaissance, by the late 1970s and through the

1980s, there was a boom in horror. A brief boom for sure but one that unearthed gems

like Patrick (1978, Richard Franklin), Roadgames (1981, Richard Franklin), Long

Weekend (1979, Colin Eggleston), Razorback (1984, Russell Mulcahy), Dark Age

(1987, Arch Nicholson) and The Last Wave (1977, Peter Weir).

Weir’s other great horror movie Picnic at Hanging Rock (1975) was produced a few

years earlier and fooled almost everyone into believing it wasn’t a horror movie. Yet

in a century of global horror production Picnic at Hanging Rock is one of the most

unforgettably frightening films produced. Given the direction of the AFC, it was an

irony that it was a horror film that established the agencies credentials and put

Australian filmmaking on the map, founding what has been called the “AFC genre”,

the birth of which destabilized the revivals incipient genre, the “Ocker comedy”.

A second horror movie produced a couple of years later would destabilize the AFC

and changed the course of how films were made here and who made them—at least

for a little while. Mad Max roared onto Australian screens (and many more around the

world) in 1979 (the film was shot in 1977). Its impact was sudden and seismic as

O’Regan records:

9

In the context of a healthy film production milieu the film (Mad

Max) might not have attracted so much notice. But in the context

of dwindling production, poor box-office returns, and dissent over

the direction film policy should take in the late 1970s it had to

matter. The fact that it was made without government funding,

that it worked within a genre of filmmaking which had been

explicitly marked off as a no-go area, and was so successful all

seemed too significant for industry lobbyists and policy-makers to

ignore. Consequently it provided an important reference point for

the major revision of government film policy (the Peat-Marwick

& Mitchell Report) which provided the industry blue-print of the

1980s. This report argued for film industry values. It urged an

export orientation which it thought would see Australian film

producers as major suppliers in ‘global software’ markets. Using

Mad Max as a guide, the report saw unlimited potential if the

industry and its films were geared internationally and firmly

endorsed entertainment rather than cultural values. (p.126)

He goes onto note:

Retrospectively Mad Max can be seen as the inaugurator of a

tendency within Australian cinema to engage with genre. (p.129)

Sadly, it was a brief lived tendency never supported by Australian cultural arbiters or

the architects of the revival. Phillip Adams, a pioneer and self-styled ‘Prince of the

Renaissance’, called for the film (Mad Max) to be banned, describing Miller’s movie

as having “all the moral uplift of Mein Kampf". Mad Max wasn’t banned, in fact it

spawned two sequels and ushered in a decade of Australian horror movies. O’Regan

observes:

With this shift came a change in mindset on the part of producers

towards meeting rather than inventing the audience. (p.120)

10

Prior to the release of Mad Max in 1979, horror films were infrequent and for

enormous spans of our cinematic output completely absent. Robert Hood notes in his

essay “Killer Koalas”, a critical history of Australian horror films:

The first sixty-odd years of film production in Australia did not

result in many horror films, even loosely defined. It is not until

the renaissance of the 1970s that we can identify Australian films

that sit more comfortably with the label 'horror'. These films are

variously successful—and, perhaps not unexpectedly, the least

generically typical are often the most characteristically

Australian in content and approach.

Hood states that Wake In Fright (1971, Ted Kotcheff) should be viewed as a horror

film, and as the first horror film of the revival. This seems a stretch to me. It certainly

is horrific but that doesn’t mean it’s a horror film. Terry Bourke’s Night of Fear

(1973) seems to more comfortably fit the bill as the first Australian horror movie.

Bourke followed it up a couple of years later with Inn of the Damned (1975). Both

films are hardly known at all these days and are nearly impossible to see. Several

films produced between 1971 and 1977 do have a strain of horror running through

them—Shirley Thompson Versus the Aliens (1972, Jim Sharman), Stone (1974, Sandy

Harbutt), The Cars That Ate Paris (1974, Peter Weir again), Summer of Secrets (1976,

Jim Sharman) and Summerfield (1977, Ken Hannam)—but the strain is too minimal or

offbeat for them to be enjoyed or classified as honest horror movies.

Not so the cinema of Antony I. Ginnane. More than any other Australian producer

Antony Ginnane was “meeting the audience” with a series of fully committed horror

films. Robert Hood recognizes Ginnane’s central involvement in Australian horror of

the 1970s and 1980s:

Perhaps the most prolific name in the Horror Push is that of

producer Antony I. Ginnane. Ginnane can take credit (as

producer or executive producer) for well over a dozen films

through the 1980s and into the 1990s, most of them horror

thrillers. These include Patrick, Thirst, Snapshot, The Survivor

11

(1981), Turkey Shoot (1982), Dark Age (1986), the SF film Time

Guardian (1987), The Dreaming (1988), the fascinating alien

visitation film Incident at Raven's Gate (1989), Fatal Sky (1989),

and Demonstone (1990). I have no idea the extent of his creative

input, but he has obviously facilitated extensive commercial film

production in the horror fantasy genre since 1980.

A lawyer turned producer, Ginnane is frequently disparaged by Australian film

practitioners. I have been at meetings when the sign of the cross was made at the

mention of his name. In his book, The Last New Wave: The Australian Film Revival,

David Stratton provides a sniffy summation of the man:

Tony Ginnane is the only film producer in Australia who behaves

like everyone’s idea of an American film producer; he smokes

big cigars, wears expensive foreign clothes, and never stops

darting about from city to city, country to country. (p.248)

When Antony Ginnane wasn’t “darting about” he was making movies. In ten years,

between 1978 (Patrick) and 1988 (Incident at Raven’s Gate), Ginnane produced 28

movies and telemovies, three times as many as any other Australian producer over the

span of their professional life.

Many of these films were horror movies. The truth is Australian horror’s “golden age”

was mostly the labour and vision of Ginnane. He was the Australian horror film

industry. Ginnane did have frequent and capable collaborators around him, such as the

writer Everett De Roche, and a fine suspense director in Richard Franklin. He also

worked with other talented and AFC-endorsed filmmakers Gillian Armstrong and

Rolf De Heer, but when Ginnane stopped making movies in Australia the golden age

of horror collapsed.

Though he was still producing pictures in Australia for most of the 1980s, Antony

Ginnane was already producing films overseas as early as 1981 (Race ForThe Yankee

Zephyr) after a very publicized row with Actors’ Equity. Antony I. Ginnane now

works mostly in the U.S and has virtually abandoned producing to focus on

12

distribution. He is still referred to as the “Antichrist” (and not because of the genre he

worked in) by some Australian producers with a meagre handful of www.imdb.com

credits compared with his fifty-four.

The neutering of 10BA and the establishment of the Film Finance Corporation (FFC)

in 1988 returned the horror scene to its state before Mad Max. The late 1980s and

1990s were a wasteland for horror. The best of them may be Dead Calm (1989,

largely directed by Phillip Noyce with some scenes directed by Dr. George Miller

who also produced) and Zone 39 (1996, the underrated John Tatoulis), a sci-fi/horror

hybrid. Interestingly, Mad Max is also often described as sci-fi and the most common

interpretation of what happened to Miranda and her gal pals in Picnic at Hanging

Rock is “aliens did it”. 2

On the whole most of the horror movies produced in the 1990s and up to the time of

writing have been “B movies”, telemovies, or low budget independent productions. In

the first years of the new millennium there has, however, been some encouraging

movement in Australia’s dark genre output even if our funding bodies and our

producers have had little to do with it. The impetus has come from independent

directors and writers, often forced to function as their own producers. The films are

Undead (2003), Saw (2004), and Wolf Creek (2005).

Undead (2003) is a low budget zombie film, directed, produced, and written by Peter

and Michael Spierig—Brisbane-based twins. The brothers also contributed much of

the 3D work as well as designing the film. One of them even worked as camera

operator. The Spierigs have made numerous well-regarded short films (some, of

which, have gone into profit) and collected a number of awards. They are hands-on

filmmakers, which is fortunate since the budget range they were working in

compelled them to participate in a number of roles. Despite the Spierig brothers’

success the Pacific Film Television Commission (PFTC)—Queensland’s film funding

2 But sci-fi, even more than horror, is a “no-go area” in Australia. This is despite the success of the Mad Max franchise and the fact that Australia is a common, possibly even preferred shooting destination for any film with a post apocalyptic setting (Until the End of the World (1990, Wim Wenders), Fortress (1992, Stuart Gordon), Escape From Absolam (1994, Martin Campbell) Pitch Black (2000, David Twohy), The Salute of the Jugger (1990, David Webb Peoples). Perhaps we’re still living in the long shadow of The Time Guardian (1987, Brian Hannant and Andrew Prowse), a soft and favourite target for 10BA bashers. Stuart Cunningham in his essay “Hollywood Genres, Australian Movies” hints at what could have been: “…it is more important to see that their (Mad Max, Mad Max 2) complete mastery of the genre—their sheer technical virtuosity… outdoes Hollywood on the grounds it knows best. This kind of “transcendence” of the genre opens a range of possible further generic transformations, like

13

agency—has been hostile to them and this hostility has continued even after Undead’s

astonishing success3. But in many ways the PFTC was not an option in the funding

plan for Undead, even if the brothers had been on amicable terms with them. To begin

with virtually no single funding agency ever contributes the entire budget of a feature

film. It’s always a percentage of the budget and other funding agencies or companies

must have already pledged money before an agency like the PFTC will invest money

of its own. This is a normal hurdle for executive producers (EP) but an almost

insurmountable one for aspiring writers and directors. It means that an EP must be

found to access government money. Securing an EP is difficult enough but finding

one keen on raising money for a zombie film to be shot in Queensland and directed by

first time writers and directors is nearly impossible. 4

The Spierigs, wisely, decided to go it alone. They shunned funding bodies and put in

their own cash, something we’re all told at film school never to do but has been done

so often by the world’s most successful filmmakers in order to kick start their careers:

Richard Rodriguez, John Sayles and Peter Jackson to name a few. Another recent

Australian film, Lost Things (2003, Martin Murphy), also used this model as did an

Aussie indie hit of the 90s, Love and Other Catastrophes (1996, Emma Kate-

Croghan). Emma Kate-Croghan, the director of Love and Other Catastrophes, speaks

honestly (in the way only independent filmmakers can) about the situation faced by

inchoate Australian writers and filmmakers:

If we didn’t make Love and Other Catastrophes there was no way

I could have made a feature film. There was no other avenue; it

would have taken me another 10 years. (Reid p.50)

Michael and Peter Spierig chose a zombie film. A canny choice. Traditionally zombie

films have been produced for very little, their main requirement being latex and putty

and buckets of fake blood. The zombies themselves are frequently friends of the

those worked by the ‘Italian’ western on another thoroughly American genre. Such a cinematic coup must widen the potential resources of Australian feature production.” (p.237) 3 I’m aware of this hostility from a conversation I had with Michael Spierig late in 2004. 4 I know this first hand. In 2002 I spent a week in Sydney meeting with 19 producers. Most were retiring or had retired and the few able bodied producers among them weren’t interested in dark genre material. I laid my problem out to Anthony Buckley, a fine Australian producer with a track record that goes back to the early days of the revival. My problem was this: I was seeking a capable EP who liked horror films and could find money overseas, thus sidestepping government funding bodies. Anthony Buckley could think of only one producer. And I wasn’t even pushing myself as a director.

14

filmmaker or the filmmakers themselves. The genre has launched filmmakers like

George Romero (Night of the Living Dead, 1968) and Sam Raimi (The Evil Dead,

1981) and gave Peter Jackson one of his earliest hits (Brain Dead, 1992). As a horror

genre, it is evergreen. In the past two years, three zombie films, not including Undead,

have been distributed theatrically—the excellent 28 Days Later (2002, Danny Boyle),

the remake Dawn of the Dead (2002, Zack Snyder), and the horror comedy, Shaun of

the Dead (2004, Edgar Wright).

The Spierigs chose well. In a recent conversation with Michael Spierig he stated that

“the one thing we got right was the genre. We chose the right genre”. The zombie

genre fits the limited resources of a low budget independent filmmaker like a rotten

glove. It’s a genre without a country—the Esperanto of horror genres. Zombie films

have been produced and sold from all corners of the globe. An Australian zombie film

was never going to be frowned upon—at least overseas. With a lot of their own

money invested and deferrals to be paid back, it is likely that selling the finished film

was a major priority of the Spierigs. They chose a genre that sells. Fear, after all, is a

universal emotion, and fear sells.

Undead has been an enormous success. It has already achieved sales well beyond

most government funded films and has given the Spierigs a greater profile around the

world, particularly in the U.S., than many government endorsed and created

filmmakers. They have signed with the William Morris Agency and have been

offered scores of scripts and green-lit projects. They are now peers of new dark genre

filmmakers like Eli Roth and Richard Kelly. Their newest script, a vampire film (the

other evergreen horror genre), is being developed by Lions Gate, the U.S distributor

of Undead. Press releases have announced its production in 2005-6. 5

Saw (2004) has been an even bigger hit than Undead. Strictly, it is not an Australian

film but the writer and director are Australian nationals and former RMIT students

(Royal Melbourne Institute of Technology). The script was written in Australia and

5 And what of the PFTC? How have they reacted to the spectacular success of two young Queensland filmmakers? Have they tried to mend broken bridges? Have they swallowed their pride and dogged them for meetings and offers of development money for future projects? No, they have not. The PFTC has not called the Spierigs or had any communication with them. They are not interested in the Spierigs and it appears they would like the brothers to just go away. Rest assured, they probably will. Interestingly, or perhaps damningly, the scores of scripts that the Spierigs have been sent and the numerous offers on the table, only one of them has come from an Australian producer.

15

marketed from Australia. Even the test scene that secured James Wan (director/writer)

the directing role and Leigh Whannell (writer) an acting gig was made in Australia.

Unlike Undead, the film was made in L.A. Like Undead (and Mad Max), the film

received no government support and neither did the writers during the development

phase.

Like many overnight successes, years of effort and frustration preceded their

“arrival”. The script was written over two years and then marketed locally by the

writers and their agent manager Stacey Testro. The script was optioned twice by two

different producers but each time the option expired and the project reverted back to

the writers.

In a last ditch attempt their agent took the script to L.A and embarked on a round of

meetings. One company, Evolution Entertainment expressed interest, which at first

the filmmakers did not take seriously. Testro urged them to travel to L.A to talk with

Evolution. In order to force potential producers to view them in production roles,

Whannell and Wan self-funded a short shoot. They chose a particularly graphic

section of the script reasoning that they had to make an impact. It did. Whannell and

Wan found that Evolution were genuinely keen on making the film. They went into

production soon after with Wan helming the film and Whannell co-starring with name

Hollywood actors like Cary Elwes and Danny Glover.

In a 2004 interview Whannell and Wan described Saw’s voyage from script to screen.

Their comments highlight the very public truth that Australian producers and funding

bodies staunchly resist dark genre projects. Without a friendly funding agency or a

script market in Australia for dark genre screenplays, a writer is forced to feed his

script into an overseas market (particularly the U.S. market, as was the case with Saw)

or take a more central role in the financing and production of the project (anathema to

most writers).

Whannell: We always intended for this film to be made in

Australia because that's where we lived. We wrote it as an Indie

and then when we finished it, our agent showed it to some

producers in Australia and we shopped it around.

16

Wan: We tried to get it off the ground in Australia, spent about a

year with Australian producers and I guess it's just the way it is

with funding bodies, finding money.

Whannell: It was an accident that our manager said, when we

were at the end of our rope, and totally depressed, who works

over in America, said that she knew a literary agent over in

America. She's our manager, so she says, there's a lit agency in

America who's read the script and liked it, so why don't we go

for broke? I know that America's a big long shot, a billion-to-one

chance but you know, let's just do it and so we did and it was just

an accident. Best way to summarise it is that we never aimed for

the film to be made in America; America came to us. (Fischer)

Wan and Whannell are now developing projects with Universal and may never make

a film in Australia. A sequel to Saw is currently in development. Apart from a

wasteful dalliance with a couple of ineffectual Australian producers, Whannell and

Wan made few other errors. They wrote a clever and suspenseful script pitched in a

price range that many companies could afford. They also gave the project and

themselves additional advantages by shooting an obviously effective test scene.

The Spierigs did a similar thing. Not a test scene. They created a website. Many

months before Undead was available to fans and buyers the website was scoring hits

and being distributed by premier internet movie geek sites like www.aintitcool.com

and www.darkhorizons.com. The brothers also made themselves available for web

interviews on the scores of websites devoted to zombie films and all things horrific.

The Undead website was so effective that even when the film was officially attached

to a distributor the site remained unchanged.

In a country where horror is little supported, both Undead and Saw are examples of

films that have bullied their way into production through the determination and grit of

their creators. Wolf Creek (2005) has had an easier time of it. Financed by the FFC,

the South Australian Film Commission (SAFC) and private investment, Wolf Creek is

17

the first film from NIDA graduate and writer/director/producer Greg McLean.

McLean has said in interviews that he has gotten close three previous times to getting

a film over the line. Wolf Creek is the first one to stick. Why? To start with Wolf

Creek does not feature a single shambling zombie or a coolly brilliant serial killer

fixated on over elaborate plans. Wolf Creek’s psychotic madman is an amalgam of

The Back Packer Murderer and whomever they finally prove (if ever) did away with

Peter Falconio. Australia has always been a little timid to make movies about our long

list of maniacs. We’ve so far avoided Martin Bryant, the Family Murders, Julian

Knight, the Frankston Killer, the Birnies and umpteen other lunatics. But occasionally

they do get through. Fortress (1986, Arch Nicholson) is based on a true story as is

Chopper (2000, Andrew Dominik), Death of a Soldier (1986, Philippe Mora), The

Chant of Jimmie Blacksmith (1978, Fred Schepisi), Evil Angels (1988, Fred Schepisi),

Mad Dog Morgan (1976, Philippe Mora), “Breaker” Morant (1980, Bruce Beresford)

and The Boys (1998, Rowan Woods). The numerous Kelly films keep the flame of

remembrance burning for one of our most enduring murderers. And perhaps someday

we’ll see films (or more likely telemovies) based on other infamous murders and

disappearances—The Beaumont Children, the Pajama Girl, the Thorne Kidnapping

and so on. Robert Connelly, the producer of The Boys, (in Reid) defends our limited

dark genre efforts against those who view them as depressing, uncommercial and

somehow “UnAustralian”:

We have a great tradition of dark films. You know, from Picnic at

Hanging Rock, Chant of Jimmie Blacksmith, Devil’s Playground.

Even something like Gallipoli or Mad Max—films that do

explore the darker side of things. So this assumption that

everything needs to be light and fluffy in some kind of

commercial term is wrong. (p.27)

But unfortunately, as far as honest horror projects go, it seems that funding bodies can

buy into a realistic and “uncinematic” depiction of madness and psychosis but have a

difficult time supporting a fantastic approach to evil—zombies, serial killers with

genius I.Qs, and leather clad flocks of S&M bikers.6

6 In my own small way I’ve proven this. Late 2004 Kraal (written with Shayne Armstrong) was put through the assessment entrance of the FFC. It did well (surprisingly) but not well enough to be offered a letter of intent. A couple of months later Acolytes was also submitted. This time the project was shortlisted and within weeks one of the FFC’s two assessors was in

18

The FFC’s decision to support Wolf Creek is not without precedence and is even less

surprising when the $1.3 million budget is considered. This is a low budget even for

an Australian film but perhaps all the FFC were prepared to gamble on a dark genre

film (the risk was further tempered by the SAFC’s contribution and private

investment). The FFC’s risk, as weak-kneed as it appears, has already paid off. After

the film was selected for screening at the Sundance Film Festival, Dimension Pictures

offered the producers almost four times the budget for the North American rights.

Even more startling, Dimension had not even seen the completed film as David

Lightfoot, Wolf Creek’s producer points out:

It's the first time an Australian movie has gone into profit before

anyone has seen it. (Zion)

Like Undead, Wolf Creek is also being championed by the world’s most influential

movie geek site, www.aintitcool.com, buying the filmmakers a fortune in free

publicity. For a funding body frequently strapped for cash, Wolf Creek should be a

good little earner for the FFC and help finance far “worthier” films.

But will the undeniable success of Wolf Creek, Undead and Saw compel film funding

agencies and Australian producers to rethink their attitude toward horror? Should Wolf

Creek’s funding be interpreted as a thaw? Not yet. Until funding agencies begin

backing dark genre projects at a greater frequency and at higher budgets, horror will

continue to be as unwelcome as it’s ever been.

The obvious (though unattractive to many) solution then is to avoid these highly

visible barriers by sidestepping funding agencies and Australian producers. Wan and

Whannell and the Spierigs did precisely this. But in the case of Wan and Whannell,

Queensland to grill us about the script. The result is the project has been given an “amber light”. They are keen but have requested another draft (which was being done regardless) plus a test scene to prove that I am competent enough to direct. Both scripts are dark genre projects but Kraal is an out and out horror script, while Acolytes is more of a dark crime drama with some horror/suspense elements. One features a non-human monster, the other a monster of the human kind. The one with the human kind is travelling well, while the other looks dead in Australia.

19

I’d like to suggest that without a committed manager/agent they would likely still be

flogging their screenplay to disinterested funding agencies and producers, grounded in

a country that’s no friend to horror. A good manager/agent is as difficult to secure as a

capable EP. They got very, very lucky. The Spierigs, on the other hand, made their

own luck; as did Kennedy/Miller, Croghan and Kazantzidis, De Heer, Martin Murphy, Bill Bennett, and the Working Dog team. Internationally there are scores of

other filmmakers who’ve performed a similarly impossible feat. They found the

money somehow; they made their movie and their reward is a life in film.

Mary Anne Reid (1999) was discussing Croghan and Kazantzidis when she wrote the

following in her book “More Long Shots: Australian Cinema Successes in the 90s”

but she could have been referring to any successful independent filmmaker from the

Spierigs to Dr. George Miller:

Had they not financed it themselves there would have been no

spectacular entry by these young filmmakers into the international

film business. Arguably, their talent would eventually have won

them different opportunities but at the very least, taking their fate

that much more into their own hands accelerated their career

paths significantly. (p.34)

20

Case Studies: Kraal and Acolytes Despite both being horror projects the two case studies in this paper differ greatly.

Kraal was written with rigid budget parameters in mind. It’s more austere than

Acolytes with 80 per cent of the story taking place in one location with only a handful

of characters. The goal was to write a “two-hander”: a play or script written for two

actors. Though Australian cinema has not generated many horror/thrillers the few it

has produced are usually loosely described as two-handers: Patrick (1978, Richard

Franklin); The Long Weekend (1979, Colin Eggleston); End Play (1975, Tim

Burstall); Road Games (1981, Richard Franklin); Thirst (1979, Rod Hardy). The

author of many of these titles is Everett De Roche. De Roche is single-handedly

responsible for a high percentage of Australia’s dark genre output, certainly the better

entries.

Like Ginnane, De Roche is one of the genre’s few indigenous “names”. Robert Hood

(1994) makes special mention of him:

De Roche understands better than most the requirements of the

horror genre and though he has been castigated for pandering too

much to Hollywood tastes, his best scripts tend to be both

effective and recognisably Australian in mood.

The “pandering too much to Hollywood” is probably excusable in the light of Everett

De Roche being an American. His success and the frequency with which his movies

have been produced were compelling motivators to create my own horror two-hander.

He showed that Australian horror scripts could be made if the writer kept his eye on

the budget and had an appealing idea at the heart of the script. Kraal is supposed to be

that appealing idea and was written to be produced for a modest budget. The

producers, however, had other ideas. Once the project was attached to an EP the

budget steadily crept upwards until, in my opinion, it became unproducible.

Kraal takes as its starting point the idea that there is something hostile in the tall grass

of Vandenburgh’s Kraal. Something that shouldn’t be there. Over the course of one

endless Easter Sunday, friends and strangers are pitted against an inhuman presence

149

inhabiting a sea of deep grass known as the ‘Kraal’. Marooned in a derelict gas station

and surrounded by grasslands, they discover the extremes of courage and cowardice

they are capable of to survive the day.

In Acolytes the source of the fear and horror is much clearer. I’ve noted above that

the inspiration for Acolytes comes partly from the crimes of Reid, Luckman, the

Birnies, the influence of McCubbin and American dark genre films7. But as much as

anything, the project comes from non-creative sources and pragmatic business

strategy. My chief responsibility, after writing the screenplay, is to maximise the

chances of attaching a producer to the script. The best way I know to do this—apart

from writing a marketable script—is to conceive something that can be realized

relatively inexpensively. In Australia that means $4 million or under—preferably half

that amount or less. Within this budget range, most Australian producers are not

going to be intimidated or discouraged, so this provides a greater reach in who I can

approach and potentially attach.

What I have come to believe (and hope) goes through the occasional producer’s mind

when they read my material is this: first of all they’re excited about the property (if

I’m lucky); and then they happily realize that it can be produced inexpensively (in the

international scheme of things). This, at least, is the outcome I’m seeking. So, in truth,

I’m inspired and guided as much by lofty creative ambitions as I am by the harsh

realities of geography and my status and that of most Australian producers. I can help

all of us by writing to harsh budgetary parameters—not too many stunts, construction

or special effects, limited cast and locations etc—nothing that’s going to jack the

budget up. Acolytes was conceived and written with one eye always on the price tag.

A very austere price tag since the project was originally conceived as a low-budget

directing vehicle for me.

Over the years I have put enormous effort (and asked the same from others) into pilots

like Odd Sox. The problem with pilots is if no-one picks up the series you’re left with

nothing. You can’t sell a stand alone 30-minute episode of some crummy puppet

7 I’m additionally inspired and intimidated by talents like Melville, Simenon and Argento and films like Spoorloos (1988, George Sluizer), Die Katze (1988, Dominik Graf), Suspiria (1977, Dario Argento) , Un Flic (1972, Jean-Pierre Melville), M (1931, Fritz Lang), and dozens of others. For a genre writer these are good teachers.

150

show. I had DIY plans for a feature project for sometime but was always being

diverted into pilots. It’s easy to be diverted from a self-funded low budget feature

film.

Even before the script was significantly underway I had put together a small team of

committed believers and together we’d done location scouts, test shoots and shot

marketing images. I was serious. But then came the actual writing and somewhere

over the next two years plans to produce the project ourselves were quietly dropped

and my team of believers very sanely got on with their careers. The venture folded for

a couple of reasons. We got ahead of ourselves (well, I did anyway) moving into

development before there was a script or even a completed scene breakdown. The

script also took too long to write and my own enthusiasm waned for embarking on a

low to no budget project. I had spent too much time on the script and no longer

wanted to double my involvement by making it myself. Also it became a bigger

canvas than I’d originally planned. The script could always be reined in but I had no

enthusiasm to do that either. In the end I had no problem handing it over to a couple

of producers to try and get up the traditional way. What swung it was they agreed I’d

direct it.

In the storyline of Acolytes, schoolboys James Tresswick and Mark Vincent are

victims. Gary Archer has brutalized both boys, marking their bodies and spoiling their

lives. In their last year of high school, James and Mark find a way to stop being

victims. They’re going to kill Gary… Searching for Archer’s rumored dope crop in

the scrappy forest behind a theme park, James and Mark stray upon an adult male

filling in a trench. It’s suspicious and tantalizing. They return with shovels and James’

girlfriend, Chasely Keys. They find the ghostly white body of a young woman. The

“trench” is a grave. The “adult male” is her killer. James floats an idea… What if the

means were put in front of them to deal with Archer? What if the killer were

contacted and told the name of a guy that they’d like to see dropped in a hole of his

own? And then, when the deed was done, what if they were to call the cops—

anonymously of course—to tell them what’s buried out behind the theme park and

who put it there? What could go wrong?

151

The development and writing diary begins ten months after the script for Kraal was

first pitched to the producer that Anthony Buckley had recommended to us. Richard

Stewart fit us well. He had produced genre telemovies—The Vector File (2002, Eliot

Christopher), No One Can Hear You (2001, John Laing), Exposure (2000, David

Blyth)—and was seeking theatrical horror projects. He was also Queensland-based,

which would be handy for the countless meetings required in the normal marketing of

a project. Though we were adamant about eschewing government funding, Richard

had previously headed Film Queensland and then the New Zealand Film Commission.

He was a real executive producer and we were excited when he contacted us, along

with his producing partner, Penny Wall, another Queensland based producer, seeking

an option on Kraal. A six month option was signed which would give the two

producers enough time to feed the script into the market.

Six weeks before the diary’s first entry I had commenced Acolytes. For the first time

in my writing life I started a script without a complete scene breakdown. I had

mapped out 60 per cent of the script over forty pages of a scene breakdown, and then

idiotically began the screenplay without completing the breakdown. The early stages

went smoothly, but it would become increasingly difficult and time consuming and I

would deeply regret not completing the scene breakdown.

The first diary entry records a meeting with a development executive from Working

Title Australia; the Australian office of a British based film company with very deep

pockets. My regular writing and meeting partner (Shayne Armstrong) was unable to

attend and as the executive only wanted to talk to the writers (they had already spoken

to the producers) I did the meeting alone. The meeting focused on two of our projects,

Kraal and a 260-page treatment for another horror project called Familiar. Many of

the diary entries underline the importance of the writer as salesperson for their project.

Wednesday, 12 March 2003:

I met with Mel Flanagan from Working Title Australia yesterday

afternoon. It was an OK meeting but not as much came out of it

as I wanted or hoped. I felt she was circling us and the project.

She’s up in Queensland working with Venero Armanno. She

hasn’t read Familiar and I think she’s unlikely to. She didn’t like

152

the synopsis provided from whoever did coverage. Also the size

of it probably appalls and depresses her. If Tim White, producer

and executive producer of numerous Australian films such as

Two Hands (1999, Gregor Jordan) and Oscar and Lucinda (1997,

Gillian Armstrong), reads it she will probably be compelled to.

And since there’s supposed to be another conference call with

Tim next Monday to discuss Familiar, she may get to it over the

weekend. Even if they decide to not go with either project,

Armstrong and I might get some writing work out of them which

she intimated to me.

That’ll be an OK result, provided that Familiar and Kraal (at

least one of them) gets placed somewhere. She hasn’t been in

touch with Tim White so it’ll be interesting to see what comes

out of the rest of the week, now that she’s returned (I presume) to

Sydney. I believe they’ll make a decision this week about both

projects and we might hear what that is on Monday.

Meanwhile back in Brisbane we were having meetings with Stewart/Wall

Entertainment [Richard Stewart and Penny Wall— the local producers attached to

Kraal and Familiar]. They had recently returned from a business trip to Europe and

the U.S and we were hungry for news on how our projects had performed. Also the

sixth month option agreement on Kraal had just expired and we wanted to know

where the project stood. Odd Sox, a pilot for a children’s puppet show that we had

produced ourselves a few years before and our only non-horror project, was also to be

discussed. We had given permission for Stewart/Wall to canvas Odd Sox to the

markets without an option agreement in place. We wanted to see if there was any

interest before we committed to the expense of an option. On Friday, 14 March I

noted:

Armstrong and I have a meeting with Richard and Penny at 3pm

today. Lots of ground to cover since this is the first time we’ve

sat down with them since they went overseas. I’m keen to hear if

153

there is any genuine movement from the overseas companies to

whom they have pitched our stuff.

Also we need to discuss Odd Sox and to also let them know that

the Kraal option agreement expired last Friday and we still have

no paperwork for Familiar, which is just madness on their part.

At the same time as undertaking these negotiations I was continuing work on

Acolytes:

Just did a small bit on Acolytes—about a page. Pretty pathetic

amount but the scene is OK. Up to around 50 pages. I read it

back earlier all the way through the 50 pages and thought it

worked well enough. Will benefit from a two day polish.

I believe I’ll get up to around 60-70 pages working off the

existing and incomplete breakdown, then I’ll have to stop and

start working on a breakdown again. The next half is a bit of a

mystery. Freaks me out a little. I just hope I do have a second

half. Not convinced yet. Oh well, if I have to go and rewrite the

first 50 pages then I’ll do it.

This is going to be a tough one to get right and so far I reckon

I’ve scraped by, but don’t want to come a ‘gutser’ in the second

section.

A few days later on Sunday, 16 March I noted:

Limped over 50 pages on Acolytes—52 pages. Lachlan [a

business partner] read about 47 pages of it last night and I think

enjoyed it. I’ll do another couple of pages tomorrow and

approach the mid-fifties. Hopefully over 60 pages by the end of

this week. I would like to exhaust what there is of the unfinished

treatment before the end of the month.

154

Even while Acolytes was still being written we had begun to pitch it to Stewart/Wall,

who in turn had begun to represent it elsewhere. We do this with every script to give it

a head start when complete so there is already interest or at least familiarity with it.

By the time a script is complete we’ve usually talked several producers into agreeing

to read the script. With any luck we can lodge the project in their minds so it already

seems like a property they are representing before the script is complete. Also on

Sunday, 16 March:

Got an email from Richard Stewart tonight asking for an Acolytes

one pager. He also said he had a meeting with the PFTC [Pacific

Film and Television Commission—the Queensland government

film funding body] today and he wants to talk about it in the

morning. I assume his requesting a one pager for Acolytes and

seeing PFTC are related. Sounds like the PFTC is becoming

receptive to our material. It is, however, unlikely they’ll be

receptive to me personally since last time I was there I was called

“vexatious” by the CEO and their lawyer and threatened with

eviction by security.

I believe Richard has another conference call with WTA

[Working Title Australia] on Monday to discuss Familiar and

Kraal. Hopefully we’ll have a definite commitment from WTA

or they’ll tell us there is no future with them.

Either way I’d like an emphatic response and I think Richard is

seeking one also. Some company called Fireworks [U.S.

company based in L.A.] knocked Kraal back last week. We’ll

see what happens this week.

Soon after Stewart/Wall requested a one pager for Acolytes. “One pagers” aren’t my

favourite form of writing. But it’s a good policy to equip a producer with whatever the

market demands, and, that’s always, at the minimum, a one pager. When we first

started writing scripts we tried to avoid writing them but abstaining would always

155

become a stumbling block for the script being read. We learnt that many companies

will not read your script until they’ve sighted a synopsis. The big problem we had

with this (and still have) is that most (practically all) of these companies will decline

to read your script if the synopsis doesn’t work for them. These days we’ve resigned

ourselves to writing them and will usually pump them out months in advance of a

completed script. That doesn’t mean our dislike of them has cooled as I note here on

Monday, 17 March:

I loathe writing one pagers: They make everything sound like

shit, but I’ll behave and deliver it. I should start Acolytes

synopsis for Stewart/Wall but I’d much rather work on script.

Might do it on Thursday and do a couple of days on script

instead. It’s irresponsible, I should really get that paid work for

Liquid [Brisbane based animation company] mopped up but

they’re not going to MIP [big TV market held every year in

Cannes] now so no real hurry.

Everybody pitches. It’s a vital skill for a writer and part of their job. Once the writer

has done his round of pitches and secured a producer, the producer then begins his

pitches. A good pitch is a kind of verbal seduction. Its main job is to get the potential

buyer interested enough in the property so they’ll read it personally—not send it to

some disinterested or overworked reader for coverage. Another function of the pitch

is to try and get the project a better position on the producer’s slush pile of

submissions. A pitch works best from the writer because generally no-one believes in

the material as strongly as the writer. Enthusiasm, the real stuff, is contagious and

can’t be faked.

Even when the writer has done their job and attached a producer and the producer has

got the project to a potential buyer, the pitching project begins all over again as the

project is maneuvered toward whoever has the power within the company to say

“yes”. This was the situation with Familiar and Kraal on Tuesday, 17 March:

Richard Stewart got in touch to tell us that the U.K boss of

Working Title—Tim Bevan—is coming from London

156

to Australia this week and both Kraal and Familiar will be put in

front of him for his decision in whether they commit or not.

Richard felt this is a very good development. He said both

projects have obviously been read now [by either White or

Flanagan or both]. But they didn't have any particular comments

about Familiar. In his words they are 'playing their cards close to

their chests'.

I was less optimistic:

I believe that since Familiar wasn't discussed in any depth, Tim White

may not have completed reading it, but that doesn't matter as long as

someone has, and it was probably Flanagan, after all it's her job. I

also believe, though I didn’t discuss this with Richard, that Tim White,

although the head honcho in Australia, can't commit to a project

without a greenlight from the U.K. end.

This was particularly true of both Kraal and Familiar which had both been budgeted

beyond $10 million—Familiar way beyond. This kind of budget means most

Australian producers have to go looking for cash overseas. Even though Working

Title had established an office in Australia, as have many of the U.S. majors, none

have the power to make production commitments. Most of them in fact have little to

do with production and are here to look after distribution and promotion in this

territory:

There appear to be three steps to this and we've gotten both

projects through two of them. STEP 1, a positive readers report

from Working Title. STEP 2, a positive response to the reading

of the material by Flanagan and White. STEP 3 will be if it gets

through Bevan.

The good thing about this situation is that we have twice as many

chances obviously with the two projects, and horror is

“marketable” these days. Richard said he'd call them back at the

157

end of this week to see what their answer is. Hopefully Bevan

will keep to his itinerary and the material will go in front of him

this week for us to get an answer. Of course he may have to read

the material himself or take it back to the U.K. with him for a

final answer.

At the same time work had to continue on Acolytes—not merely to meet the

requirements of the Master of Arts’ degree but because a serious screenwriter must

always have another project in the works. Strong interest one day can turn into silence

the next. Projects can seem healthy and spry and then barely register a pulse. If, or

when, that happens something new needs to shuffle forward and replace your newest

corpse until new life can be breathed back into it:

Will do a couple of pages on Acolytes tonight. I’m happy with

the how and where I’m going to stage a sequence that’s been

bothering me for a while. I'll have it over 60 pages by the end of

week and maybe 70-75 by the end of next week, then that'll

probably be the end of my breakdown.

Just as important as pitching and juggling projects is having patience. Unless you’re a

“name” or have some heat for whatever reason, or just get lucky, nothing moves

quickly. You spend a great part of your professional life waiting for replies and news.

This was reflected in my entry of Thursday, 19 March:

Having film projects out there strings you along. I was hanging

out for this Monday, like I was hanging out for last Monday, now

I'm hanging out for this Friday. Then I'll be hanging out for the

results of Richard's trip.

A writer is sustained by flights of fancy and wishful thinking as evident in the

following entry on Saturday, 21 March. It’s such a tough business that motivation is

welcome from whatever source —even fantasy:

158

How sweet it would be to attach one, or, dare I think it, two

projects to Working Title, knowing that Tim Bevan had to give

his personal stamp of approval. That doesn't happen often in

Queensland. Because I'll be at Photon [Queensland visual effects

house] I'll have to take the mobile down and give Richard that

number. Oh well, better stop thinking about it. Back to Acolytes.

Acolytes has easily been the hardest script I’ve yet written. This is not just because of

the time it took and the many snarls I had to find a way out of. The problems started

with my working method, particularly my decision to commence the script without a

complete scene breakdown. The consequences of this are evident below in the entry

where the story is still fuzzy. The whole task was a difficult one because I was trying

to create real people, honest reactions and authentic dialogue in a thriller/crime film

framework, where usually characters and situations are bigger than reality and the

dialogue could only exist in movies. I aimed for a twilight world between movie

reality and everyday reality. Also on Saturday, 21 March:

Didn’t get as much done as I wanted to on Acolytes today. Been

doing an action scene and it kind of bored me. Little tedious.

There are some problems staging the next sequence at Chasely’s

[character] pad. I’m going to do it anyway. I think I’ll get a lot

out of it.

Nice for Mark [character] to be on her bed and to see her shrine

to James [character]. Also a nice place for James to float his plan.

I won’t give Mark much to say throughout the scene, maybe not

even a final answer. Maybe his final answer is showing up at the

train station tomorrow (or wherever their meeting is staged).

I could have a scene with him in bed, like Chasely. Roar of a big

engine of a car going past, plus headlights through his room. I

might scrap the scene scripted in breakdown with them getting

on the same train as killer to watch and observe him. Let’s just

get into the guts of the plan. Find out the guy’s name (mailbox

159

theft). Find his phone number from stolen mail. Ring him up. It’s

a plan anyway.

Meanwhile as noted on Wednesday, 26 March the waiting continued:

Not much news in the past week. Was waiting for a response

from Working Title on Friday but it didn’t come. Richard

Stewart called them but they are snowed under with the release

of Ned Kelly and no decision has been made.

Bevan probably hasn’t been introduced to the projects at all yet.

Richard Stewart’s out of the country this week flogging Kraal,

Odd Sox and Familiar in U.K. and MIP [TV markets in Cannes],

so Penny may have to talk to them this week. Maybe we’ll hear

something by the end of the week. Who knows? I never really

dare to expect anything but I had hoped that Kraal would be with

someone by this point. We’re not getting it over the line and I

wonder why this is. We’ll see what happens over the following

months.

At that stage I put Acolytes away for a week. I was doing a pitch to Disney to try and

get some production work. It was joyless work and I would have preferred to be

working on Acolytes. There were six companies competing for the Disney jobs and

all of them had good track records. The pitch was due by April 4 and demanded my

full attention but Acolytes also had continuing demands as recorded on Friday, 28

March:

Wrote a one pager for Acolytes since it was requested by

Stewart/Wall. I did a half arse job so they might not be using it

on their overseas trip.

Finally on Sunday, 30 March there was good news. Penny Wall left a message on my

answering machine explaining that Stewart/Wall had attached Kraal with a British

company called Winchester. They were previously responsible for Open Range

160

(2003, Kevin Costner) and House of Sand and Fog (2003, Vadim Perelman). They

expected a film to go into production by the end of 2003. This was a bit like telling a

battle-weary soldier that his war would be over by Christmas, but I was determined to

be optimistic. I had been waiting for a call like this for some time. It was easy to be

excited. Sunday, 30 March:

I filled Shayne in. He was very excited, but we both caution each

other at different times to keep one foot on the ground. But we

are excited. We will have to resist temptation to tell too many

people. We’ve been down that road before. It’s a nice thought

that we’ve still got the Familiar treatment out there and that

seems to still be bubbling along at some companies.

Working Title might even go for it. If Winchester works out then

our stocks will go up as writers and it should be easier getting

someone keen on other projects like Familiar. Winchester might

even go for Familiar.

Richard Stewart can also talk to Working Title now and tell them

that one project is now out of their reach, but they have an

opportunity with Familiar. Not a bad angle to take.

Although Kraal and Familiar were looking healthy, we continued to develop new

projects. I have a simple approach to the business of writing—hope for the best and

prepare for the worst. No matter how healthy a project looks it could go belly-up at

any moment. On Thursday, 24 April I noted:

I had a meeting with Boylan [Greg Boylan—writer of the

manuscript we based Kraal on and frequent collaborator] a

couple of days ago. He’s cool and pumped to write his vampire

concept (No Such Thing).

Shayne and I will meet with him on Tuesday to talk about the

concept and throw around ideas. It’s an excellent concept and a

161

very sensible one. Something of around the same budget as

Kraal (Stewart/Wall’s Kraal budget anyway). He’s agreed to

write two drafts—working from our input for the second draft—

and then will hand it over to us. I’m going to make very certain

that we agree to a development strategy for the script. We must

have the freedom to change anything that jeopardises its chance

of getting placed. If he’s cool for all that we can work together.

I’m on Acolytes and Shayne is on Monster Business at the

moment, and when they’re both done the scene breakdown for

No Such Thing should be complete.

We have a real shot at having three release scripts complete by

early next year.

The Disney pitch went well. And, rightly as it turned out, I was feeling positive about

our chances of getting the job. The Disney work promised decent money and

tactically it would be handy to show our producers that I could be considered to direct

a low budget feature.

At the same time there were further developments with Kraal that superficially

appeared positive: Richard Stewart had taken it to the FFC. But frankly this did not

excite us at all. Kraal is a genre project, a reasonably good one I hope, but still a

genre project. FFC has a poor history of funding dark genre projects, so we were

convinced it wouldn’t fly. If we had known this was our producers’ proposed

development path, we may not have got involved with them. It demonstrates that a

writer (particularly a first timer) has little control or influence in the transformation of

their screenplay into a film. Once the script is optioned the writer is frequently

reminded of their place in the pecking order and the degree of control they exert on

the project. And that is—nil.

Several genre projects have fallen over in Australia simply because the producer

could not attach a director. It’s a real problem. Hand-reared Australian directors

generally shy away from genre projects and the few able genre directors are typically

162

working overseas and with larger budgets. A low budget horror film (by U.S.

standards) set in high grass, to be shot in the middle of nowhere just does not sound

appealing enough to lure back a talented ex-pat. So producers are faced with the

option of going with a hack (which becomes a problem for funding) or linking up with

some young hot shot director with a first feature under his belt and who is yet to be

found out. We were about to embark on this phase of Kraal’s development as my note

from Saturday, 26 April reveals:

Meetings with Stewart/Wall yesterday. They are leaving for

Melbourne over the weekend and then onwards to Sydney early

in the week. They are meeting with Blanks on Monday [Jamie

Blanks, director of Urban Legend (1998) and Valentine (2001)].

Doesn’t exactly fill me with excitement or confidence but I’m

happy to just take the pay cheque on a project where we have

zero control. Not worth getting upset over. We have very little

influence in the process.

They need a director to keep the ball rolling so I hope they get

him, though I’ve been told he’ll probably play it cool at the

meeting to hear them out and check them over. Everyone plays

their cards close to the chest and we’ve got to get better at doing

that.

Richard and Penny are off to Cannes in a few weeks, apparently

to complete the Kraal deal with Cobalt (another interested

British company) or Winchester. From the way they are talking

I’d say it’s going to be Cobalt, which is fine, they’re a bigger

company with a good rep and that should help with the FFC.

We have to negotiate the option and purchase agreements over

the coming 60 days, and it could be difficult and get a little

emotional. I’ve discussed things with Shayne and we’re cool to

walk away if the deal is not fair. It’s going to hurt but we will if

we have to. We’ve got a lot of mouths to feed so we’ve got to

163

make something reasonable from it. I’d rather put it in a drawer

than get ripped on Kraal.

The negotiations around Kraal began to expose the limitations and the pressures on

the project. We had written it to be a small movie, producible for a few million. At

$A12 million it had turned into something four times the budget we thought it should

be and now had much more pressure on it.

We never saw Kraal as being any kind of theatrical heavyweight. We were more

confident in some of our other properties. We believed Kraal could make money and

achieve good sales but it would never be a Muriel or a Priscilla and has no great hook

like The Ring. If the director knew his job we had no doubt Kraal could be a solid

horror movie but why would anyone go and see it over a Matrix or any one of The

Lord of the Rings? I certainly wouldn’t—theatrically anyway. But we felt no anxiety

about that. It had become quite clear that we just write the stuff and that’s where our

influence ends. This lack of control was, however, why it was necessary to keep on

with the steady development of our other projects.

After all of the activity of March, a month later things were quiet—Sunday, 3 May:

No news from Stewart/Wall and no news about the Disney pitch.

Richard and Penny have been interstate all week and as usual

we’ve had no contact with them - something we intend to address

in the upcoming option agreement negotiations. They met with

Blanks on Monday (I believe) and were also meeting Nine about

Odd Sox (I think). If they haven’t called or emailed by noon

Monday then I’ll call Richard’s mobile.

Instead it allowed some time for work on Acolytes; also on 3 May:

Moved Acolytes ahead by about twelve pages this week. Would

have done plenty more but interrupted with a couple of days of

editing on the shithouse TV pilot we shot last year. Such a pain

in the arse.

164

I’ll keep working on Acolytes up till Wednesday. Should move it

forward by another seven pages which is OK. That’ll bring me

up to 80 pages and that should be near the end of the unfinished

scene breakdown. Actually that’s a nice goal to get through the

unfinished scene breakdown by midweek.

On Monday, 4 May I received an email from Stewart/Wall which underlined the

nature of the producer/writer relationship, at least from the perspective of the

producer:

“We arrived back late Friday night and are yet to collect our

thoughts on last week’s meetings. However all good where

Kraal stands. We'll ring you Tuesday to discuss.” (Wall)

The casualness of this email, the assumption that Shayne and I would be happy to

wait for news, underlined that in future any new option agreements should include a

clause whereby the producer would be required to contact us at least once a week

when overseas or interstate.

While we waited for an update on Kraal and our other projects I threw myself into

Acolytes. It was a tried and true method to deal with producers—do some writing and

forget about them. Wednesday, 6 May:

Have completed a couple of pages on Acolytes this afternoon. I’ll

have to go back and revise the first sequence with killer to get

him in line with adjustments to his character. No trouble.

Through the killer’s nervy and frightened reaction to being found

out, I’m going to show what Mark would have gone through, and

is going through. It’ll only be clear to a reader when script is

complete or on subsequent readings but many of the films I like

work that way.

Should be through the unfinished scene breakdown by Thursday

and then will leave the script for a couple of weeks to finally

165

complete the breakdown. I’ve got ideas of what may happen but

nothing is locked in.

No-one knows, apart from the Killer and the kids, that Archer is

dead, so it is easy for the killer to keep up the illusion of Archer

being alive by simply making his very identifiable car visible in

the suburb. I like this because a clever plan like this one matches

Mark’s clever plan to get Archer murdered in the first place.

On Monday, 10 May we received some encouraging news about Kraal. News like this

comes out of the blue which is why I look forward to releasing new scripts into the

market. I’m always fascinated and surprised by the life a script takes on. It also

provides a welcome jab of motivation when you’re struggling on a new script:

From an email received this minute from Penny: “Just to tantalise

you both—Kraal is on a roller coaster at the present time. Icon

are interested—as are Miramax. We will be making this film

soon! Yippee!!!”

Encourages me to hear a producer say ‘Yippee!!!’ I didn’t even

know the property had been passed onto Miramax. I knew about

Icon but hadn’t heard any news about them for so long that I’d

given up on them. This is encouraging. There seem to be four

companies circling Kraal. All of this helps Familiar and will

certainly be good for Acolytes, Monster Business and No Such

Thing.

I’ll knock off another couple of pages of Acolytes tonight. I’d like

to get it up to the end of this sequence. Killer is in bushland at

night looking for the grave of the dead girl. I’ve got an

opportunity to do something with this sequence. It could be quite

scary. It would also tell the reader that there are more girls out

there. A lot more. It would be a scary trek for killer but he’s got to

do it. Doesn’t want to be out there in the darkness. Killers have

166

imaginations too. This would be terrifying for him. Dead girls in

the woods. Pale dead girls with dusty feet.

Negotiations have begun on the Acolytes option. At the moment

Acolytes is part of a three-picture deal with Portmans but I spoke

to Stewart/Wall about what happens if it doesn’t go the distance

with Portmans. Stewart/Wall will still flog it around if it gets the

boot, which comforts me. The project is meant as a directing

vehicle for me because it can be made for piss-all. Yet last time I

had a meeting with Stewart/Wall they suggested (without much

thought I think) to take the project to Blanks if he declined Kraal.

I didn’t say anything but it surprised me since I’ve told them it’s

meant for me many times. But it honestly doesn’t worry me. If

someone wants to make it and we collect a decent fee and get a

film up that’s good enough. I’ll write something else for me. It’s

just paper.

Despite their irresponsible “Yippee”, the producers were still finding it difficult to

attach a director to Kraal. In the meantime I was working through Acolytes’ biggest

set-piece and the most complex sequence in the script so far. And I had gone into it

without a scene breakdown. I would end up rewriting it many times, often spending

days away from it, not having the stomach to struggle with it. I was worried about

blowing out the script with the sequence and also giving readers the impression that

this was the climax of the story. Tuesday, 20 May:

Haven’t heard anything about Blanks. Looks like they won’t have

a director locked in before they go back overseas. Must be an

easy life being a director that people want to attach their project

to.

Not really much good news. Nothing has crossed that line yet.

Projects seem to hit a wall and maybe that will happen with the

current bunch or perhaps we’ll get one through in the coming

months.

167

Up to 80 pages on Acolytes and at the end of the existing scene

breakdown. Knocked out a pitiful two pages today but the work

seems ok. I’ve also decided to make the death of Archer into a big

set-piece (the scripts biggest) that will happen in the forestry and

also at the float cemetery. No point setting a location like that up

if I’m not going to use it.

I’ll have all or most of our players there—for the first and only

time in the script, with a couple of savage dogs thrown in and

James will be running again which harkens back to the story he

told Mark. Chasely should be there also. She can’t stay ignorant

for the whole story, or maybe she can. Will have to think more on

that. The death of Archer feels like the end of the second act to

me, but what would I know. Act breaks and the rest of the crap

inside each break confound and irritate me. I do it all instinctively

and we’ll eventually see how successful I am and if I’ve got good

instincts. It encouraged me reading about William Goldman and

his admission that he also is an instinctive writer.

As usual there will be a lot of pressure on this script. They’ve

[Stewart/Wall] even told me they want to use it to get a good start

with Portmans and Becker [production and distribution

companies], but it may not. Shit, it may suck. Who knows? This

is different from anything else I’ve written and I’m not confident

I’ll pull it off. Lucky we’ve got No Such Thing in the works. Hard

to fuck up with that one and I know companies are going to be

excited by it.

I might not go back to anything like Acolytes for a while. Won’t

really have anything more to write about in regard to those kinds

of crimes and the setting.

168

Work had commenced on the Disney jobs and I was unable to advance the journal or

Acolytes for a number of weeks. When I was eventually able to recommence work the

same old problems remained. I was still battling a set-piece that refused to end and

was becoming monstrously bloated. Kraal was also foundering without a director.

Monday, 23 June:

I haven’t written anything in this journal for a while so I won’t

bother trying to mention every bloody thing that’s happened over

the last month. I’ll do a couple of days (the most recent ones) and

go from there.

Haven’t done any work on Acolytes for a few days. It’s difficult

patch that’s all and who likes difficult work? Also if I drag my

heels on something like this it’s because I know there’s a

problem, and the problem here is that this sequence is going to be

very long and will get me into trouble but I have to go through

with it. I can always cut back on material later on.

Met with Stewart/Wall yesterday. They began with Kraal. They

said they were going to receive a letter of intent from Winchester,

which they have now gone with because they have amalgamated

with Cobalt. This letter of intent sounds a bit piss-weak to me but

it’s something. The problem as usual is they don’t have a director

and for once I believe we’ve been given a straight answer that

signing a director who meets with Winchester’s approval is

conditional upon the project getting up. They have sent the script

out to a bunch of Aussie directors and I guess we’ll have

responses trickling in over the coming weeks. They’ve gone to

Richard Franklin among others. I did a pitch for Craig Monahan

[The Interview, 1998] but I can see they are not keen, but I’ll keep

at them.

Once again we talked about Acolytes and my role as director.

They are cool to go out there and fight for me. They pretty well

169

made a promise today (unless they don’t like the script which is

always on the cards). They want the script as soon as possible.

Portmans looks like it’s out and they’re talking to some new

company. So we’ll wait and see what happens there. As usual I

won’t hold my breath.

The diaries continue for another two months or so, but the above material captures the

key experiences of the Australian film writer: the grind of the work, the endless cycle

of negotiation and the profound barriers to production even for a genre that is

currently in fashion.

170

Conclusion:

Almost two years later where are these projects? After a long search for a director,

Kraal was attached to David Deneen, a very experienced and sought after commercial

director—apparently. We had never heard of him until his name was mentioned in

August 2003. The script has been through more drafts. In 2004 we were removed

from the project by the producers and other writers were brought in. We weren’t

happy about it but these are the risks in optioning scripts—you can be dumped from

your own work at any time. We were removed because we had reached an impasse

with the producers over story issues. In our opinion we were being asked to write a

lesser script and we had no interest in doing it.

Perhaps if one of the companies keen on the project was paying for the changes then

we may have looked at it. The money would still be irrelevant (we wrote both Kraal

and Acolytes without funding and resisted attempts by the producers to secure funding

for further drafts, although the AFC was approached and agreed to finance further

writing) but it would have been an encouraging gesture for us proving a deeper

commitment to the project. The two companies keen on Kraal eventually merged with

a third company. After all the commotion Kraal was spat out and homeless a few

months later. It failed entry into the FFC’s assessment door and only the market door

remains open to it but that is an intentionally harder door to access. At a budget of

$A12 million, which the producers have steadfastly refused to reduce, it seems

unlikely that it will be realised anytime soon.

In the producers latest update they were chasing money from New Zealand, the U.S.

and Scotland. They appear to have given up on Australia, taking the project, in our

minds, full circle. We never believed an Australian funding body would show much

interest in it and from the beginning steadfastly believed that Kraal would find a

home overseas or not at all. We were dismayed when it was being fitted for the FFC

and development dollars were being sought from the AFC and PFTC.

Part of the appeal in writing dark genre material, particularly horror, is it keeps our

projects and us outsiders. Some may see that as juvenile or deliberately contrary but

from the beginning we’ve hoped to contribute to a genre we love which so happens to

171

be little understood or admired by our producers and funding agencies. Though

difficult to see an upside in being booted off your own project, the only one I will

concede is that one of the writers now on Kraal is the writer of a favourite genre film

of mine Incident at Raven’s Gate. A Ginnane movie. It’s a small country.

In some ways we did the same thing to Stewart/Wall by taking Familiar away from

them. Because of the project’s high budget we decided our best chance of getting

Familiar moving was to adapt the 260 page treatment into a novel with the idea that it

could always come back to a film if the novel was well received. This is a little

ambitious but there are precedents. Our third collaborator, Greg Boylan, was

commissioned to write the adaptation and the manuscript was completed in early

2005. We are about to do a polish on the material and then begin the hunt for an agent

to represent it. So we are continuing to make opportunities for the project. In a couple

of months we’ll get down to Sydney and Melbourne and pitch the project. If we flunk

out in Australia we’ll start sending the manuscript to the United States and Britain.

It’ll be costly and time-consuming, frustrating and occasionally degrading, but it’s our

duty to our projects. We’re working in a rare and unpopular genre, as far as Australia

is concerned, so it falls on the creators to feed it into the market and hunt out

opportunities for the work. Is this going above and beyond a writer’s responsibilities?

Perhaps anywhere the horror genre isn’t a pariah. Here it’s business as usual.

Our only non-horror concept, Odd Sox, is now placed with Channel 9 but an overseas

partner has been harder to find. It was slated to go into production by mid-2005 but

half the budget is still missing. As usual we’ll see what the coming months bring.

Acolytes is emerging as the dark horse. Completed mid-2004, it was immediately

optioned by Stewart/Wall (before we were aware that we’d been turfed off Kraal) and

promptly taken overseas. Again, there was talk of seeking the entire budget overseas

and avoiding Australian funding agencies completely. In no time at all a British

company, Intandem—Wild & Wyked World of Brian Jones (2005 Stephen

Woolley)—became involved in the project. Intandem requested another draft (the

project was too long and too confusing for them). Stewart/Wall somehow inveigled

the money from PFTC to get me to the U.S. to present the new draft to them at the

American Film Markets. I was also there to pitch myself as director. The result was

172

they wanted to see another draft and they adroitly avoided significant discussion about

me directing the project.

As with Kraal, the producers once again were lured back to the fold and approached

the FFC. Surprising, the FFC were interested in the script. One of their two in-house

assessors came up to Queensland in January and asked scores of questions about the

script. The meeting seemed to go well. I felt certain I’d given many of the right

answers and sent him away much better informed about the script. Like Intandem they

wanted to see another draft. They dangled a very big and tempting carrot. They were

interested in funding the film and granted the project “amber light’ status but they

wanted more work done on the script and a test scene to be shot proving that I could

handle the material.

For a month all my efforts were focused on the new draft (which was being written

for Intandem anyway, so it killed two birds with one stone) and the test scene. Then

we hit a snag, as we so often do. Notes arrived from the FFC. I had already made all

the changes I thought relevant and necessary from the January meeting and simply did

not agree with many of the new notes. Many of the suggestions, if implemented,

would chip the original edges of the property and turn it into a telemovie. The

producers are currently reading the new draft along with a letter of reply to the FFC.

The same FFC assessor is coming up to see me again shortly and will have read the

new draft and letter by then (if the producers send it). I’m meeting with the producers

this week and I expect problems. They’ll want more of the FFC’s “suggestions” acted

upon. I don’t believe in the changes so I may not be on Acolytes too much longer. Our

producers have form for disposing of writers. Contained within the FFC’s notes was

also some scepticism of my readiness to direct Acolytes. I could sense that the test

shoot would accomplish nothing so I cancelled it.

It is funny that you can write this kind of stuff, but they can then be dubious about me

directing it. The producers are already chasing other directors. I truthfully don’t mind.

Writing a script is like climbing the same mountain over and over again and directing

it would be another 18 months of that. If the FFC get hot for some director then I’m

happy to let someone else shoulder that burden. I’ll hang out at the catering truck and

complain about how they’re ruining my script. If the producers aren’t complete wimps

173

and the script is submitted shortly to the FFC its fate will be decided in the April/May

round.

The FFC interest is unexpected and though I’m conflicted by it. One part of me (the

shameful part) is pleased. My sole duty to my scripts and my collaborators is to get a

movie made from our writing. But I’d be lying if I didn’t admit to some

dissatisfaction. Our goal was to break free of the gravitational pull of funding bodies

and we’ve so far failed. And now, like everyone else, we’re waiting our turn at the

teat. That’s why I admire the achievements of filmmakers like Dr. George Miller,

Byron Kennedy, James Wan, Leigh Whannel, the Spierigs, Croghan, Kazantzidis, and

the Spierigs so much. They willed their movies into being and if you know anything

about making movies you know that’s an authentically super human feat. If the FFC’s

“amber light” turns green in 2005, I’ll be thrilled. We write to be produced. But if we

get a red signal I won’t be bruised by it. I’ve always expected to do it the hard way

and one part of me, the wild and contrary part, would revel in joining that exalted (to

me anyway) but sparse pantheon of filmmakers who did it themselves. To that end

we’re developing a low budget project of our own. No applications. No EPs. No

notes.

I’ll pitch it to you…

174

Bibliography

Cunningham, S. (1985). “Hollywood Genres, Australian Movies” in An Australian

Film Reader (eds. Moran and O’Regan) Sydney: Currency Press.

Fischer, P. (2004). “Interview: Wan and Whannell”. Retrieved 2 February 2005, from:

http://www.darkhorizons.com.

Hood, R. (1994). “Killer Koalas: Australian (and New Zealand Horror Films. A

history.” Retrieved 23 January, from: http://www.tabula-

rasa.info/AusHorror/OzHorrorFilms3.html

O’Regan, T. and Moran, A. (1985). An Australian Film Reader. Sydney: Currency

Press.

O’Regan, T and Moran, A. (1989). The Australian Screen. Sydney: Penguin.

O’Regan, T. (1989) “The Enchantment with Cinema: Film in the 1980s”, The

Australian Screen. Sydney: Penguin.

Patridge, Des (2004) “Horror on a shoestring” The Courier-Mail 9 December 2004

accessed via www.news.com.au on 6 January 2005.

Reid, M. (1999). More Long Shots: Australian Cinema Successes in the 90s. Sydney.

Australian Film Commission and Australian Key Centre For Cultural and Media

Policy.

Stratton, D. (1980). The Last New Wave—The Australian Film Revival. Sydney:

Angus and Robertson.

Stevenson, D. (2000). Art and Organisation: Making Australian Cultural Policy. St

Lucia: UQP.

175

Wall, P (2003). “Personal email from Penny Wall to Shane Krause”. Brisbane, 4 May

2003.

Zion, L. (2005). “Unseen horror film makes a killing”. The Australian. 6 January

2005 accessed via www.news.com.au

176

Filmography

28 Days Later. (2002). Produced by Andrew Macdonald. Directed by Danny Boyle.

Written by Alex Garland. U.K/USA/France:

Apt Pupil. (1998). Produced by Jane Hamsher, Don Murphy. Directed by Bryan

Singer. Written by Stephen King, Brandon Boyce. USA/Canada/France:

Arlington Road. (1999). Produced by Marc Samuelson, Peter Samuelson. Directed by

Mark Pellington. Written by Ehren Kruger. USA:

Boys, The. (1998). Produced by Robert Connelly, John Maynard, Douglas Cummins.

Directed by Rowan Woods. Written by Stephen Sewell. Australia:

Brain Dead. (1992). Produced by Jim Booth. Directed by Peter Jackson. Written by

Stephen Sinclair, Fran Walsh, Peter Jackson. New Zealand:

“Breaker” Morant. (1980). Produced by Matt Carroll. Directed by Bruce Beresford.

Written by Jonathan Hardy, David Stevens, Bruce Beresford. Australia:

Cars That Ate Paris, The. (1974). Produced by Hal McElroy, Jim McElroy. Directed

by Peter Weir. Written by Peter Weir, Keith Gow, Piers Davies. Australia:

Chant of Jimmie Blacksmith, The. (1978). Produced by Fred Schepisi, Roy Stevens.

Directed Fred Schepisi. Written by Thomas Keneally, Fred Schepisi. Australia:

Chopper. (2000). Produced by Al Clark. Directed by Andrew Dominik. Written by

Andrew Dominik. Australia:

Dark Age. (1987). Produced by Antony I Ginnane, Basil Appleby, Bill Gavin.

Directed by Arch Nicolson. Written by Sonia Borg, Stephen Cross, Tony Morphett.

Australia:

177

Dawn of the Dead. (2004). Produced by Marc Abraham. Directed by Zack Snyder.

Written by George Romero, James Gunn. USA:

Dead Calm. (1989). Produced by Terry Hayes, George Miller, Doug Mitchell.

Directed by Phillip Noyce. Written by Charles Williams, Terry Hayes.

Australia/USA:

Death of a Soldier. (1986). Produced by David Hannay. Directed by Philippe Mora.

Written by William L. Nagle. Australia

Demonstone. (1989). Produced by Antony I. Ginnane, Andrew Prowse, Brian

Trenchard-Smith. Directed by Andrew Prowse. Written by Frederick Bailey, David

Philips, John Trayne. Philippines/USA:

Devil’s Playground, The (1976). Produced by Fred Schepisi. Directed by Fred

Schepisi. Written by Fred Schepisi. Australia:

Donnie Darko. (2001). Produced by Drew Barrymore, Christopher Ball. Directed by

Richard Kelly. Written by Richard Kelly. USA:

End Play. (1975) Produced by Tim Burstall, Alan Finney. Directed by Tim Burstall.

Written by Russell Braddon, Tim Burstall. Australia:

Escape from Absolam. (1994) (Produced by Jake Eberts, Gale Anne Hurd. Directed

by Martin Campbell. Written by Michael Gaylin, Joel Gross. USA:

Evil Angels. (1988). Produced by Yoram Globus, Menahem Golan. Directed by Fred

Schepisi Written by John Bryson, Robert Caswell, Fred Schepisi. Australia/USA:

Evil Dead, The. (1981). Produced by Bruce Campbell, Sam Raimi, Robert G. Tapert.

Directed by Sam Raimi. Written by Sam Raimi. USA.

Exposure. (2000) Produced by Richard Stewart, Damien Parer, Grant Bradley.

Directed by David Blyth. Written by Ian Coughglan. USA/Germany/New Zealand:

178

Fatal Sky. (1990). Produced by Basil Appleby, Antony I. Ginnane, Arnie Fishman,

Paul Lichtman, Steven Strick. Directed by Frank Shields. Written by Brian Williams,

David White, David Webb Peoples. USA/Australia/Yugoslavia:

Fortress. (1986). Produced by Hector Crawford. Directed by Arch Nicholson.

Written by Everett De Roche. Australia:

Fortress. (1993). Produced by Greg Coote, Graham Burke, John Davis. Directed by

Stuart Gordon. Written by Troy Neighors, Steven Feinberg, David Venable, Terry

Curtis Fox. Australia/USA:

House of Sand and Fog. (2003). Produced by Michael London, Vadim Perelman.

Directed by Vadim Perelman. Written by Vadim Perelman, Shawn Otto. USA:

Incident at Raven’s Gate. (1989). Produced by Antony I. Ginnane, Marc Rosenberg,

Rolf De Heer. Directed by Rolf De Heer. Written by Marc Rosenberg, James

Michael Vernon, Rolf De Heer. Australia

Inn of the Damned. (1974). Produced by Rod Hay, Terry Bourke. Directed by Terry

Bourke. Written by Terry Bourke. Australia:

Interview, The. (1998). Produced by Bill Hughes. Directed and written by Craig

Monahan. Written by Craig Monahan and Gordon Davie. Australia:

Katze, Die. (1988). Produced by Georg Feil. Directed by Dominik Graf. Written by

Ewe Erichson. West Germany:

Last Wave, The. (1977). Produced by Hal McElroy, Jim McElroy. Directed by Peter

Weir. Written by Peter Weir, Tony Morphett, Petru Popescu. Australia:

Long Weekend. (1978).. Produced by Richard Brennan and Colin Eggleston. Directed

by Colin Eggleston. Written by Everett De Roche. Australia:

179

Lost Things. (2003). Produced by Ian Iveson. Directed by Martin Murphy. Written by

Stephen Sewell. Australia:

Love and Other Catastrophes. (1996). Produced by Stavros Kazantzidis, Yael

Bergman, Helen Bandis, Frank Bergman, Bruno Charlesworth, Frank Cox, Anastasia

Sideris. Directed by Emma-Kate Croghan. Written by Emma-Kate Croghan, Stavros

Kazantzidis, Yael Bergman, Helen Bandis. Australia:

M. (1931). Produced by Seymour Nebenzal. Directed by Fritz Lang. Written by Thea

von Harbou, Fritz Lang. Germany:

Mad Dog Morgan. (1976) Produced by Jerry Thomas, Richard Brennan. Directed by

Philippe Mora. Written by Margaret Carnegie, Philippe Mora. Australia:

Mad Max. (1979). Produced by Byron Kennedy. Directed by George Miller. Written

by George Miller, James McCausland, Byon Kennedy. Australia:

Ned Kelly. (2003). Produced by Tim White, Tim Bevan, Eric Fellner. Directed by

Gregor Jordan. Written by Robert Drewe, John M. McDonagh. Australia/UK/France:

Night of Fear. (1972). Produced by Rod Hay. Directed by Terry Bourke. Written by

Terry Bourke. Australia:

Night of the Living Dead. (1968). Produced by Karl Hardman, Russell Streiner.

Directed by George Romero. Written by James Russo, George Romero. USA:

No One Can Hear You. (2001). Produced by Richard Stewart, Grant Bradley.

Directed by John Laing. Written by Ian Coughlan, Craig Cronin. USA:

Open Range. (2003) Produced by Kevin Costner, Jake Eberts, Craig Storper.

Directed by Kevin Costner. Written by Craig Storper. USA:

180

Oscar and Lucinda. (1997) Produced by Robin Dalton, Tim White, Mark Turnbull.

Directed by Gillian Armstrong. Written by Peter Carey, Laura Jones.

USA/UK/Australia:

Patrick. (1978). Produced by Antony I. Ginnane. Directed by Richard Franklin.

Written by Everett De Roche. Australia: Filmways Australia.

Race for the Yankee Zephyr. (1981) Produced by John Barnett, Antony I. Ginnane,

John Daly, Michael Fay, William Fayman, David Hemmings. Directed by David

Hemmings. Written by Everett De Roche. Australia/New Zealand, USA:

Razorback. (1984) Produced by Hal McElroy. Directed by Russell Mulcahy. Written

by Everett De Roche. Australia:

Ring, The. (2002). Produced by Roy Lee, Walter Parkes. Directed by Gore Verbinski.

Written by Koji Suzuki, Ehren Kruger. USA/Japan:

River’s Edge. (1986). Produced by John Daly, Derek Gibson. Directed by Tim

Hunter. Written by Neal Jimenez. USA:

Roadgames. (1981). Produced by Richard Franklin. Directed by Richard Franklin.

Written by Everett De Roche. Australia:

Picnic at Hanging Rock. (1975) Produced by John Graves, Patricia Lovell, Hal

McElroy, Jim McElroy. Directed by Peter Weir. Written by Cliff Green, Joan

Lindsay. Australia:

Pitch Black. (2000). Produced by Tom Engelman, Ted Field. Directed by David

Twohy. Written by Jim Wheat, Ken Wheat, David Twohy. Australia/USA:

Salute of the Jugger, The. (1990). Produced by Brian Rosen, Charles Roven. Directed

by David Webb Peoples. Written by David Webb Peoples. Australia/USA:

181

Saw. (2004). Produced by Peter Block, Mark Burg, Jason Constantine, Stacey Testro.

Directed by James Wan. Written by James Wan, Leigh Whannell. USA:

Shaun of the Dead. (2004) Produced by Tim Bevan, Eric Fellner. Directed by Edgar

Wright. Written by Simon Pegg, Edgar Wright. U.K:

Shirley Thompson Versus the Aliens. (1972). Produced by Matt Carroll, Jim Sharman.

Directed by Jim Sharman. Written by Helmut Bakaitus, Jim Sharman. Australia:

Snapshot. (1979). Produced by William Fayman, Antony I. Ginnane. Directed by

Simon Wincer. Written by Everett De Roche, Chris De Roche. Australia:

Spoorloos. (1988). Produced by Anne Lordon, George Sluizer. Directed by George

Sluizer. Written by Tim Krabbe, George Sluizer. Netherlands/France:

Stone. (1974). Produced by David Hannay, Sandy Harbutt. Directed by Sandy

Harbutt. Written by Sandy Harbutt, Michael Robinson. Australia:

Summerfield. (1977). Produced by Patricia Lovell, Pom Oliver. Directed by Ken

Hannam. Written by Cliff Green. Australia:

Summer of Secrets. (1976). Produced by Michael Thornhill. Directed by Jim

Sharman. Written by Keith Aitken. Australia

Survivor, The. (1981). Produced by William Fayman, Antony I. Ginnane. Directed by

David Hemmings. Written by David Ambrose, James Herbert. Australia:

Suspiria. (1977). Produced by Claudio Argento. Directed by Dario Argento. Written

by Daria Nicolodi, Dario Argento. Italy/West Germany:

Thirst. (1979). Produced by William Fayman, Antony I. Ginnane. Directed by Rod

Hardy. Written by John Pinkney. Australia:

182

Time Guardian, The. (1987). Produced by Antony I. Ginnane, Robert Lagettie,

Norman Wilkinson. Directed by Brian Hannant, Andrew Prowse. Written by John

Baxter, Brian Hannant. Australia:

Turkey Shoot. (1981). Produced by William Fayman, Antony I. Ginnane, David

Hemmings, John Daly. Directed by Brian Trenchard-Smith. Written by Jon George,

Neill D. Hicks. Australia:

Two Hands. (1999) Produced by Tim White, Marian Macgowan, Mark Turnbull.

Directed by Gregor Jordan. Written by Gregor Jordan. Australia:

Undead. (2003). Produced by Michael Spierig, Peter Spierig. Directed by Michael

Spierig, Peter Spierig. Written by Michael Spierig, Peter Spierig. Australia:

Un Flic. (1972). Produced by Robert Dorfmann. Directed by Jean-Pierre Melville.

Written by Jean Pierre Melville. France/Italy:

Until the End of the World. (1991). Produced by Paulo Branco, Ulrich Felsberg,

Jonathan T. Taplin. Directed by Wim Wenders. Written by Michael Almereyda, Peter

Carey, Wim Wenders. Australia/Germany/France.

Urban Legend. (1998). Produced by Brad Luff, Gina Matthews. Directed by Jamie

Blanks. Written by Silvio Horta. USA/France.

Valentine. (2001) Produced by Bruce Berman, Grant Rosenberg. Directed by Jamie

Blanks. Written by Donna Powers, Wayne Powers. Australia/USA:

Vector File, The. (2002). Produced by Richard Stewart, Grant Bradley. Directed by

Eliot Christopher. Written by Ian McFadyen. New Zealand/Germany:

Wake In Fright. (1971) Produced by Howard Barnes, Bill Harmon, George

Willoughby. Directed by Ted Kotcheff. Written by Kenneth Cook, Evan Jones.

Australia/USA:

183

Wild & Wyked World of Brian Jones. (2005). Produced by Paul White, Gary Smith,

Andrew Brown. Directed by Stephen Woolley. Written by Neal Purvis, Robert Wade.

U.K:

Wolf Creek. (2005). Produced by David Lightfoot, Greg McLean, George Adams.

Directed by Greg McLean. Written by Greg Mclean. Australia:

Year My Voice Broke, The. (1987). Produced by Terry Hayes, George Miller. Directed

by John Duigan. Written by John Duigan. Australia:

Zone 39. (1996). Produced by John Tatoulis, Colin South. Directed by John Tatoulis

Written by Deborah Parsons. Australia:

184