“NICE
DAY FOR A PICNIC”
By
Raymond Benson
Filmmaker
Nicolas Roeg always managed to challenge cinematic norms. Even his most
accessible and popular film, Don’t Look Now (1973), still had what some
might call “arty” shots and experimental editing. Roeg was a director who loved
the images the camera caught, but he also enjoyed manipulating the narrative of
his pictures with the kind of radical editing likely inspired by the French New
Wave, but probably more by the so-called New American Cinema movement that included
revolutionary filmmakers such as Andy Warhol, Stan Brakhage, and others.
Roeg
began his work in film as a cinematographer—and a very good one, too (second
unit on Lawrence of Arabia, The Masque of the Red Death, Far
from the Madding Crowd, and more). After a co-directing (with Donald
Cammell) debut of Performance (1970), Roeg struck out on his own and
made a name for himself as a director of provocative art house fare.
First
out of the gate was Walkabout (1971). It was Australia’s official entry
to the Cannes Film Festival that year, despite it being primarily a British
production (and Roeg himself being English). It was based on the 1959 novel by
James Vance Marshall (a pseudonym of Donald G. Payne), which was first
published as The Children but subsequently renamed Walkabout.
Roeg had apparently wanted to adapt the book into a film for years, and he
finally got the chance to do it with only a million dollar budget. Producers
Max L. Raab and Si Litvinoff (both known primarily as executive producers of
Kubrick’s A Clockwork Orange, because they had initially owned the film
rights) provided the funding for what was essentially an independent
production, eventually released by 20th Century Fox. Playwright Edward Bond wrote
a treatment that acted as the screenplay, but most of the picture was
improvised on the go.
Taking
a minimal crew and a cast of unknowns into the Australian outback, Roeg gave us
a haunting, enigmatic, gorgeous-to-look-at, existential treatise on innocence,
the loss of it, and the importance of communication.
“Girl”
(a young Jenny Agutter, who was sixteen when the film was made) and “White Boy”
(Nicolas Roeg’s son Luc Roeg, credited as Lucien John, who was age seven during
production) are siblings who live what appear to be “normal” lives with their
parents in Sydney. One nice, sunny day, “Father” (John Meillon), takes the two
children to the desert for a picnic. There, he attempts to shoot them, but Girl
protects her younger brother and they hide. Father kills himself and sets the
family car on fire. The two kids are now stranded in the outback. Lacking
survival skills, they manage to make it through a few days (but time is never
clear in the film). Then they meet a young “Black Boy” (Australian and Yolngu
actor David Gulpilil, whose age was unknown at the time but since estimated to
be about eighteen when cast) who is out in the wilderness alone. He befriends
the two, regardless of a language barrier, and effectively saves the white
kids’ lives by teaching them how to find water and hunt for game to eat. Interestingly,
it is White Boy who is able to communicate with Black Boy through mime and
playful gestures; Girl seems to be at sea when dealing with the human who is
totally foreign to her. Days pass as the trio travels across the striking
landscape, culminating in a moment in which the physical adolescence of Girl
and Black Boy follow a natural course to sexual tension. Black Boy performs his
native “courtship ritual” dance in tribal makeup and clothing for Girl. Not
understanding what he’s doing and fearful of him, Girl rejects him. Revealing
the rest of the tale would certainly be a spoiler.
A
“walkabout” is a rite of passage in Australian Aboriginal society. Adolescent
males must spend six months in the wilderness and survive—or not—to became an
adult. Hence, while Black Boy is likely enacting his own walkabout, the film
becomes a walkabout for Girl and White Boy. There’s a lot going on underneath
the surface here, including an examination of race and class differences in a
land where the British Empire encroached on an indigenous people, sexual mores
and taboos, and how one’s social environment dictates how one behaves.
Walkabout
is a
fascinating film, and it was highly praised by critics upon release—but, sadly,
it was a box office failure. It has since become a cult classic and a cinephile
favorite. There was some criticism (still is) of the picture’s display of
nudity of all three leads, seeing that, technically, Agutter and young Roeg
were underage. Some bits were cut for the initial release, but footage was
restored in the 1990s. The British Board of Film Classification, though,
determined that the film was not “indecent.” Agutter herself has contemporarily
defended the nude scenes and says that they are essential to the themes of the
movie.
The
Criterion Collection released the film on DVD and Blu-ray years ago, but now
the company has issued a new 4K UHD edition containing two discs. A 4K UHD digital
master in Dolby Vision HDR occupies the first disc, while a Blu-ray of the film
plus special features are on the second. The visuals are, naturally, stunning. An
audio commentary featuring both Nicolas Roeg and Jenny Agutter accompanies the
film. Special features include vintage interviews with Luc Roeg and Agutter, an
hour long documentary on the life and career of David Gulpilil, and the
theatrical trailer. An essay by author Paul Ryan is in the booklet.
With
John Barry’s lush score, Roeg’s own striking cinematography, the sweeping
panoramas of the Australian outback, and the likable, honest performances by
the cast, Walkabout is a highly recommended must-see.
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