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To judge if Australia is a land of jocks or aesthetes, go to Who We Are.
by David Dale
The little Aussie flick Mao's Last Dancer is a big hit in its own land - making $13 million in four weeks and likely to bump Muriel's Wedding out of the top ten grossing Australian films of all time. A question now arises: Would Mao's Last Dancer be less successful if it had not taken a dramatic liberty with the truth in one of its final scenes?
The same question arose with the recent British hit The Young Victoria, which made $4.2 million here. Towards the end, Victoria is riding in her carriage when an assassin shoots at her from the roadside. Her new husband Albert, with whom she's just had an argument, leaps in front of her and is hit by a second bullet, which leads to a touching reconciliation at the hospital.
It looked too neat to be true, and when I went to the history books (well, the internet, to be precise) I found that although there was an assassination attempt in 1840, neither Albert nor Victoria was hit by either bullet. A fine dramatic ending if it were a work of fiction, but for me, the implausibility marred the film.
In the case of Mao's Last Dancer, I really did go to a book - Li Cunxin's autobiography, on which the film is based - to check if I had been tricked. I was worried about a scene where Li is about to go on stage in Houston (after defecting to America) but is told to wait until "some VIPs" arrive. Finally the VIPs take their seats and the ballet begins. As he dances, Li realizes the VIPs are his parents, whom he hasn't seen for six years. Apparently some generous soul has arranged to fly them from China to surprise him. At the end of the ballet they join him on stage, amid cheers and tears.
I didn't see how this surprise would have been possible. It would have been a huge diplomatic and bureaucratic process, which must have required Li's involvement.
It reminded me of the final moment of A Beautiful Mind, in which the schizophrenic mathematician John Nash (played by Russell Crowe) is receiving a Nobel Prize. He sees his wife in the audience and directs his speech to her: "I have made the most important discovery of my career, the most important discovery of my life: It is only in the mysterious equations of love that any logic or reasons can be found. I'm only here tonight because of you. You are the reason I am. You are all my reasons."
Lovely speech. Never happened. Winners of those sorts of Nobel prizes don't get to give speeches. But without that dramatic resolution, would A Beautiful Mind have won four Oscars and earned $19.5 million at the Australian box office?
Hollywood marketing wisdom dictates that a biopic must end with the hero acclaimed by a worshipful crowd, justifying his painful journey and lifting the hearts of the cinema audience. That looks to be the strategy with Mao's Last Dancer. But life wasn't quite like that. In the book, Li talks about how he arranged his parents visit, and how they came to see him in his dressing room at interval. For me, the manipulated drama made the film unsatisfying.
A couple of years ago I was talking to Jan Sardi, who wrote the script of Mao's Last Dancer, about the issue of accuracy in films. He'd been Oscar-nominated for the screenplay of Shine (which made $10.2 million in 1996), but copped some criticism for taking liberties with details about David Helfgott's life.
"Your first duty is to hold the audience," Sardi told me. "It's absurd to think you can distil a life into two hours. You have to approach it the way you would an invented story or piece of fiction." That means the writer must rework events and people to create "the essentials of good drama: conflict and resolution, cause and effect, with one scene giving rise to another".
"In Shine, we showed David collapsing on stage in London," Sardi said. "He never did that. He had a nervous breakdown over 12 months. But how do you show that on screen? The collapse was our metaphor - a heightened reality so that the audience get the idea within a movie's time constraints."
Sardi calls this sort of thing "finding the poem in the life". He likes a line from Picasso: "A painting is a lie that makes us realise the truth."
But a lie only works on a naive audience. Today's cinemagoers can spot a formula a mile away and are not eager to suspend disbelief. Maybe we've become too savvy.
Go to Comments to discuss how far you'd let a dramatist stretch the truth.
Australia's most successful movies
1 Crocodile Dundee (1986), box office total $48 million
2 Australia (2008) $37 million
3 Babe (1995), $37 million
4 Happy Feet (2006) $32 million
5 Moulin Rouge (2001), $28 million
6 Crocodile Dundee II (1988), $25 million
7 Strictly Ballroom (1992), $22 million
8 The Dish (2000), $18 million
9 The Man from Snowy River (1982), $17 million
10 Muriel's Wedding (1994), $16 million
11 The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert (1994), $16 million
12 Mao's Last Dancer (2009) $13 million
13 Young Einstein (1988), $13 million
14 Lantana (2001), $12 million
15 Gallipoli (1981), $12 million
16 The Wog Boy (2000), $11 million
17 The Piano (1993), $11 million
18 Mad Max 2 (1981), $11 million
19 The Castle (1997), $10 million
20 Shine (1996), $10 million
David Dale is the author of The Little Book of Australia -- A snapshot of who we are (Allen and Unwin). For daily updates on Australian attitudes, bookmark blogs.sunherald.com.au/whoweare.
Even more disappointing were the Director's deletions from David Williamson's script of Balibo which removed all references to the Australian Government's prior knowledge of the impending attack on 5 journalists.
Fiction is not fact. A film is a creative work. That is the point I am making. So it is not implausible that in a work of art Queen Victoria could be shot. Franz Ferdinand (that's Franz Ferdinand, the second son of Prince Leopold von Hohenzollern-Sigmaringen and Princess Antonia of Portugal, not the Scottish Rockers - how can those fraudsters get away with passing themselves off as the real Archduke?) and JFK were shot in real life after all. In JFK's case others stopped lead. Just like Albert did in 'Young Victoria'. Perhaps the director was making a point here about political assassination? I don't know, but I think that perhaps you are incorrectly using the word 'implausible' in a portmanteau sense to mean 'historically inaccurate' or 'untrue' to support your case. 'Young Victoria' in depicting an assassination attempt on her life is historically inaccurate and untrue, but implausible it is not. Nor, as a creative work, does it have any obligation to be either plausible or historically accurate. You are expecting creative works to be literally true. They can be but they do not have to be. That is why Zapruder's film might be used evidentially but Oliver Stone's would not be.
Tribal Mind replies: I'm saying that any work of entertainment needs to be believable, or it will fail to hold the audience. We can accept that there was an assassination attempt, but It's too convenient a plot device to have Albert taking a bullet for Victoria, thereby effecting a reconciliation. Similarly, the "surprise" appearance of Li's parents looks like an attempt to manipulate the emotions of the cinema audience -- and it would look that way even if the film was fiction. The film doesn't have to be true, but it does have to SEEM to be true.
That a film should be believable is not the tenet of your original article at all. It is that a film should be factually true and all your objections are based on evidence that events portrayed in the films mentioned are not true. In the case of Mao's Last Dancer you refer to the autobiography that the film is based on, not to find out if a particular scene is believable, that is a purely subjective judgement, but to find out if the dancer's parents really did show up at a performance or not. You felt 'tricked' and 'worried' that this might not be true - and presumably hugely relieved to find out that in fact it was not true. You had to go and check on the facts to confirm your suspicions that the event was not true - that a work of fiction was not true. Obviously a work of fiction, a creative work, which is what a film is, does not make any claim to be true. Whether it is believable or not is an entirely different point. You seem thoroughly confused in your distinction between truth and plausibility. Again in 'Young Victoria' you go to some length - "I went to the history books (well, the internet, to be precise)' to establish if the assassination attempt portrayed in the film is true (actually happened) or not. Your research tells you that it is not true and you are indignant, going on to say that it would have "A fine dramatic ending if it were a work of fiction'. The film IS a work of fiction. It is not a documentary. I think that I have clearly made a case that political assassination is plausible and we know that it is something that happens all the time - ask Benazir Bhutto. So it seems completely reasonable that the director should 'take liberties with the truth' for his own ends. You go on to go on to give, as another example of untruth in cinema John Nash's speech at the conclusion of the film 'A Beautiful Mind'. But damn it all, those pesky directors have got it wrong again. Your research tells you that Nobel winners don't give speeches. I am sure that every other member of the audience felt the same. Like you they did not let their emotions get the better of them and, as the lights came up at the end of the film they moved as one to the box office demanding for their money back. All $19.5 million of it. On the basis that Nash couldn't have given a speech at the presentation of his Nobel prize because Nobel prize winners aren't allowed to give speeches. Even in a work of fiction. Perhaps, when they make a film of your life, they might call it, 'A Literal Mind'. Stick to lists David, you are on firmer ground.
Wow, I bet Francis Frank is a barrel of laughs at dinner parties. How is knowing it all working out for you, Frannie?
I thought I should add some substance to my sniping. Francis Franks irritates me because he is treating this as a black-and-white issue and does not recognise that there are valid viewpoints apart from that of the lecturer in his undergraduate, one-semester, film appreciation class that he regurgitates here.
Historical accuracy and �truth� in films and other works pop up in a number of different ways. Let�s see if I can put together a sliding scale. There is the out-and-out documentary or history text book which claims to present objective truth. Effectively, these purport to be journalism. Then you have works that provide a slant on the objective facts, like an opinion piece in a newspaper. Film examples would be Supersize Me, An Inconvenient Truth or anything by Michael Moore. Next might be the biography or biopic. Probably at the same level is the movie of true events: United 93, Raid on Entebbe, Schindler�s List. Mao and A Beautiful Mind fall into this category. After that we have �based on a true story�. The Great Escape, The French Connection, JFK, Apollo 13. �Inspired by true events� probably takes a few more liberties again. Then we have works that deliberately mess with history, like Shakespeare in Love, Keating the Musical, Chopper, Amadeus. I might also add fictional works that pretend to be true for dramatic effect or to mess with you: The Blair Witch Project, The Da Vinci Code/Angels and Demons, Confessions of a Dangerous Mind.
With there being so many categories (and much blurring between them) it is hopeless to try to apply one rule to all of them. Of course we can�t demand all these works be true and for many of them the whole point is a bit of embellishment. For an out-and-out documentary, similar standards should apply as we expect from journalists � a code of ethics. I�m quite happy with Michael Moore doing his thing as long as everyone understands he is taking liberties. With United 93, I understand Paul Greengrass tried to be as accurate as possible. He was up-front about his aims and the limitations he faced.
Another factor is the audience. A WW2 historian may well hate The Great Escape and any biographer of Mozart would hate Amadeus. But to the casual watcher, they are great films.
We also have to consider the closeness of the subject matter. United 93 was acceptable to a mainstream audience because it was made in an ethical way. If Arnold Schwarzenegger had been on the plane and he killed off all the terrorists before landing the plane, Francis Frank�s would have been a very lonely voice defending the filmmaker�s integrity.
If the creator of the work chooses to mess with the truth, I think the purpose is significant. If the desire is to deceive for a political purpose, we are talking about propaganda. If the intention is to bring a new point of view to events, to create a stand-alone artwork apart from the subject-matter, that will often be fair enough. If the creator fiddles with the truth just to make a happy ending or to portray a person in a better light than history might throw on them, I think an audience is entitled to feel cheated.
Coming back to your three main examples, TM, I think you are entitled to feel cheated by Mao and by A Beautiful Mind. It is particularly concerning in the case of Mao because the film has a strong political slant (starting with the title).
I�m not so sure about Young Victoria (which I haven�t seen) � it makes little sense to make propaganda about a monarch who has been dead for 100 years and whose legacy is unlikely to be affected by a piece of cinema.
If it is so important to get the history right in every single movie why was everyone (including contributors here) so happy to accept without question the mangled version of Australian history shown in 'Australia'? Dear Baz decided it was cinematically more dramatic to show Japanese invasion forces landing on Australian soil, then to stick to well-known historical fact. He just thought it made for a more exciting movie if he tweeked history a bit. And no-one batted an eyelid, no-one complained, no-one commented that 'the implausibility marred the film' or said that 'the manipulated drama made the film unsatisfying'.
You can't gush about one historically inaccurate movie and then make disparaging remarks about manipulated events in another. Either you condemn them all or accept them all for what they are - entertainments loosely based on historical facts.
Tribal Mind replies: My concern was not whether these plot twists were or were not historically accurate. The problem was that they LOOKED implausible, causing me to feel the screenwriter was trying to manipulate the audience's emotions. If they had turned out to be true, then I would have apologised for ever doubting the screenwriter.
IN the case of Australia, it's not entirely correct to say that nobody complained. Click on the uncredible land of Oz and on Does accuracy matter to read what readers of this column said at the time.
I don't think you should lump Luhrmann in on the "truth telling" story. He has always stated that his movies are a heightened sense of reality, it is certainly not a naturalistic style of cinema, he is clearly dramatising events in an over the top way to create dramatic tension. He wasn't trying to create vivid realism, he is a creative and over the top director - you only have to see Moulin Rouge or Romeo and Juliet to see that - Romeo and Juliet was actually set in Verona, Italy, not Mexico, but I don't think anybody was calling for him to be more truthful in his film making.
Tribal Mind replies: You're right. Australia was a portrait of World War Two in the same way as Inglourious Basterds.
I haven't read the book, but enjoyed the film of Mao's Last Dancer. However I did feel the tear-jerking scene of his parents' appearance was really corny! I'm relieved to know it didn't actually happen this way.
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That's Entertainment.
David, you are a literal minded person, a journalist, a reporter - that's why you like to make lists. It's factual, it's real, it's reassuring.
There is nothing wrong with this at all - we are all different and someone has to do it. But I think it explains why you would find it so uncomfortable for films to be factually inaccurate according to your, or anyone else's pre-existing knowledge. According to the 'facts'.
This is a complete failure to understand film, dramatisation, creativity. To enjoy the experience you have to suspend your disbelief - that is the whole point. It just does not work if you do not. How else could you, for instance be, in the case of 2001: A Space Odyssey, in a prehistoric landscape at one moment and in outer space the next? The answer is because in cinema you are in the realm of dreams not of experience or reality. There is no obligation at all on a director to conform in any way at all to what may be events or people who may or may not have existed or on whose life a story may be based. There are no rules. It is not a court of law, no-one has taken an oath to tell the truth.
The ''facts' can be bent in any way that a director chooses for his or her purpose. It is merely raw material. No representations are made...any similarity between any person living or dead is purely coincidental.
If you look at a Picasso would you say - 'there is no way that someone can have two eyes on one side of their head?
Of course you are free to say that if you like but it may interrupt your enjoyment of the painting for its own sake. It may close off any possible re-wiring of your own perception and interpretation of reality.
In my opinion even a documentarian does not have a duty to tell 'the truth'. I am sure that you would find this extremely upsetting. But again, let me make the point that any work of art is just that. An interpretation of life not a real estate advertisement. A magician is not selling hats or rabbits with guarantees. They are being used as raw material to entertain.
Get yourself a creative licence and let yourself go.
Tribal Mind replies: My concern was not so much that the plot point was untrue, but that it was implausible -- which makes one reluctant to suspend disbelief, even with fictional works.