Tuesday, January 20, 2004
When Good Comedy Goes Bad
Originally published in Metro 139, 2004.
The Honourable Wally Norman (Ted Emery, 2003) is a funny film. Both types of funny, that is. At first glance, it appears to be a relatively simple, politically-minded tale of one man’s battle against the evil forces of corporatisation. And it is. The problem is that this story, with a wonderful Kevin Harrington at its core, has to fight gallantly to even be told. The Honourable Wally Norman is so laden with standups, comedians and celebrities that as soon as we begin to get close to Wally, we’re snatched away for another over-the-top comic sketch, leaving us, in the end, wondering whatever happened to the lovely little story that first intrigued us.
The South Australian country town of Givens Head is an impossibly idyllic little world kept afloat by its meatworks, its mateship and its indomitable sense of humour. And Wally Norman (Kevin Harrington) is the personification of all this: he is hard-working, loyal to his mates, and healthily disrespectful of politicians, particularly local conservative member Ken Oats (Shaun Micallef). So when Oats closes down the meatworks, Wally and the rest of Givens Head are outraged. And wouldn’t you know it, it’s election time. So the Australian People’s Party (a thinly-veiled ALP) plots to bring back legendary but disgraced pollie Willy Norman (Alan Cassell) to deliver the final blow to a flailing Oats. In a drunken (and pleasantly implausible) oversight, Willy misspells his own name on the election nomination form, and Wally Norman is nominated in his place. And so, after a few pleasant diversions, a couple of conspiracies, and the blossoming of young love, it all ends happily ever after.
The battler story – inexhaustible wealth or corporate greed is no match for hard work and Aussie spirit – is more than familiar to Australian audiences. That is not to say that, at times, the Aussie battler cannot make for dazzling cinema: think Scott’s determination to dance non-federation steps in Strictly Ballroom (Baz Luhrmann, 1992); or the Kerrigans’ triumph in The Castle (Rob Sitch, 1997). But as both these films and their protagonists demonstrate, the battler story is at its best when it is less about the battle and more about the characters. In fact, its best when the battle takes an absolute backseat to the Kerrigans’ holidays in Bonnie Doon, not to mention Scott and Fran’s growing love for each other despite the cultural barriers before them.
The Honourable Wally Norman understands this, and at its heart is a quite touching personal story about a man forced by circumstance to stand up and fight. At times, it is beautiful stuff, and Emery, along with screenwriters Andrew Jones and Rick Kalowski, has managed to capture wonderfully the important moments where we see exactly what Wally has to lose: his family, his mates, his town. The scenes between Wally and his wife, Dolly (Roz Hammond) have a tenderness that is rarely found in Australian cinema, or any contemporary cinema for that matter. They are an adorable couple who continue to celebrate their monthly wedding anniversaries, who would die for their kids, and for whom no problem is too big that it can’t be solved with a chat before bed. Similarly, Givens Head is the sort of town we all wished we had grown up in; a town where people care for one another, look out for their friends, and don’t fear a hard day’s work. When the meatworks have been closed and the town is unemployed, Wally slips $50 into the box of vegies he drops around to his best mate. It’s a touching moment; a simple yet generous gesture that captures the bond between friends in a time of need, and also the endearing awkwardness of the Australian male when it comes to needing help. There is no doubt that someone has to fight to preserve this way of life. And that someone, due to a fortuitous administrative error, is Wally. So the set up is neat and complete – we know what Wally is fighting for, what he has to lose, and what he has to confront to succeed – and Wally Norman has in place the makings of a good story. If it wasn’t for those bloody comedians getting in the way.
Those bloody comedians mean that we are never allowed to get close enough to Wally’s story for it to really move us. Instead, we are constantly distracted by Emery’s paralysing inability to resist a joke, no matter how cheap. Lauded as Australia’s finest director of comedy, with iconic shows like Fast Forward and Kath & Kim under his belt, Emery has more than demonstrated his ability to extract laughs from an audience. But in The Honourable Wally Norman, he (along with the screenwriters) demonstrates none of the restraint that he has shown in the past and that good comedy calls for. Naming Wally’s home town Givens Head was obvious enough, but when the farewell sign reads ‘Thanks for Coming’, well, it’s just slipped from borderline humour to schoolboy scatology. (I suspect it may even have been Given Head in an earlier draft). If you’re one of National Lampoon’s house directors, fine. But if there is a real story straining to be told, well, it just doesn’t help at all.
That’s not to say that the comedic moments in The Honourable Wally Norman aren’t funny, because at times they are. A cameo performance by John Singleton as the Prime Minister is comic gold. And Shaun Micallef’s turn as conservative villain Ken Oats is, in true Micallef style, hilariously ridiculous. Oats rarely ventures out into his community, preferring instead to monitor events from his grotesquely-furnished mansion in between golf and tennis practice. But Oats’ highlight is undoubtedly his campaign commercial, produced as he is losing ground to Wally. It is a perfectly-executed send-up of conservative propaganda that, just when you think it couldn’t go any further, ends with Oats producing a bible and announcing ‘oops, late for church’. In the context of a sketch comedy show it would be a work of genius, a rare sketch that enters the Australian consciousness like Tony Martin’s Arnold Schwarzenegger impersonation on The Late Show (‘A Man and His Moofies’). But a scene in a feature film can only be there to serve the story as a whole, and Micallef, hilarious as he is, is often a trifle over-the-top to resonate with any truth. In the end, his antics and comic-book villainy overshadow the humanity of Wally’s story. And we’re left to wonder why he didn’t put on his screenwriter’s hat and cast an experienced eye over the script before it went into production.
Unfortunately, Emery seems unwilling to pull any of his stars back. HG Nelson’s Chairman is a combination of political kingmaker, union thug, and HG at his most exuberant. And he shines in his scenes, mostly solo affairs. But when, towards the end of the film, he shares the same frame as Givens Head locals, I couldn’t help but feel that he was a little out of place. Similarly, Richard Nicholls (Bryan Dawe) and Rebecca-Jane (Melissa Madden Gray), the Current Affair-style political journos, are more Frontline than Brooke Vandenberg or Martin DiStasio ever were. Like Micallef and HG, they’re funny on their own, but as soon as they appear next to Wally, they are exposed as hollow caricatures trying to compete with real characters.
In Emery’s defence, though, I can understand his dilemma. Any director with Bryan Dawe, HG Nelson, Melissa Madden Grey, Roz Hammond and Shaun Micallef at their disposal would find jokes difficult to resits. However, this would have been the perfect time to ask them to rein it in a little bit; to hold something back for the good of the film. For goodness’ sake, to act rather than perform. If Ray Lawrence had have given Glenn Robbins carte blanche to walk into a couple of door frames in Lantana, it would undoubtedly have been hilarious. But instead, Robbins’ understated performance, combined with his famous comic persona, brought a depth and sadness to his character that few actors could have reached. Sometimes, a little must be sacrificed for a lot to be gained.
In the end, Wally Norman comes across as one big awkward relationship. A pleasantly diverting relationship, but an awkward one nonetheless. The nice family drama doesn’t belong with the sketch-comedy humour, and the battler tale doesn’t really work with the bad puns. It’s a shame, because The Honourable Wally Norman had a lot going for it: a good story, a great cast, and a top-notch director. It’s just that they all seem to be pulling the film in different directions. But perhaps I’m being unfair. Perhaps Emery was never after anything more than a good giggle with a few lovable and a few laughable characters. If that’s it, then I suppose Wally Norman has done its job. I just hope that the makers of Australian cinema realise that we are capable of a whole lot more.