Cibbuano
RubySoho
Morgan Bell
Matt Shea
David O'Connell
Mountain FogBastardy
November 13th 2009 19:57
Jack Charles was a familiar face on the Australian film and theatre scene in the 60s and 70s - a distinctive Indiginous actor, he appeared in over a hundred productions, on stage, on celluloid and on television. Now, at the age of 60, as he wanders homeless through the Melbourne suburbs, he seems to have blossomed, even as he finds despair and hardship in his old age, comforted by the cold nails of heroin.
"Bastardy" is the culmination of seven years of following Charles around; director Amiel Courtin-Wilson trailed after the former actor as he happily showed the camera where he sleeps (in an apartment laundry room), where he thieves (fancy Melbourne suburbs), and what he likes to do (rolling up his sleeve and taking a hit).
Does it sound depressing? Strangely, it isn't, at least, not with Charles speaking to the camera with grace and poise, explaining everything he does. He's terribly light-hearted, only feeling miserable when he gets notified that the police are going to arrest him again for burglary.
Interspersed with the footage are clips from Charles' old performances and photographs from his celebrated youth. He was selected to start an Aboriginal theatre company, and his old images are lively, with a twinkle in his eyes. That twinkle remains buried under ashes, emerging for a rare spell in front of the documentary camera, but as Charles talks about his life, we finally feel despair.
He recalls a homosexual relationship that he had in his theatre days... he admits to the camera that he wasn't actually interested in the sex part, though he had gotten used to it from the brutal rape that was everpresent in the Stolen Generation schools. More than anything, he says, he thinks about that man often, as he was the only person in his life that confessed to loving Charles - and our man didn't know how to handle it.
"Bastardy" is an excellent documentary, as it is almost completely free of judgement. The only remorse the audience feels is the panicked sensation that we're all to blame. That such a talented, successful Australian actor could be chewed up and spit out, caught in the wheels of progress, spun-dry in the penitentiary.
At one stirring scene, Charles sings and plays guitar for a couple of drunk brothers on the street, singing the old American classic, Where Did You Sleep Last Night, modifying it to
"Black girl, black girl, don't lie to me,
Tell me, where did you sleep last night?"
Tell me, where did you sleep last night?"
One drunk is particularly moved by the savagry of the lyrics, and Charles is beaming at the attention, his beard bobbing as he speaks. Next Wednesday, on November 25, 2009, the DVD launch of "Bastardy" will open with Jack Charles on guitar, singing before an audience again. If you've seen this film, you know it'll make him happy - and it'd be worth driving down to Melbourne from Sydney to see that.
I say: Exquisite and raw, "Bastardy" is a fascinating look at a real Aussie character. The documentary manages to avoid the cliched turn of peppering the screen with guilty images, imploring the audience to melt. Instead, the footage of Charles says what it says, and we understand his circumstances.
See it for: Watching this will probably inspire you to pick up a few classic Aussie movies, like "The Chant of Jimmy Blacksmith", which Charles starred in.
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