Shane Krause Exegesis

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

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Keywords

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

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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.

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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

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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:______

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Acknowledgements

Thanks to Shayne Armstrong, a staunch passenger in pain. Thanks a heap also to Stuart Glover, Gerard Lee, Lachlan Madsen and Steve Waugh.

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“Not Welcome”: Writing Horror in Australia

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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

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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

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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.

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“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”

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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:

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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)

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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

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(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

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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

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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

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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

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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.

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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)

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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

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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.

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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?

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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

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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

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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.

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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

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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

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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

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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:

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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

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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

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(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

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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

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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

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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.

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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

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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

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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.

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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.

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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

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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.

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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

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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

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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

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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…

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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.

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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

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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:

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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:

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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:

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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:

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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:

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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:

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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:

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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:

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