Castle, The (1997/I)

reviewed by
Michael Redman

Aussie's home is his castle

The Castle
A film review by Michael Redman
Copyright 1999 by Michael Redman

*** (out of ****)

There's a new age saying I have a few problems with. "There's nothing outside yourself", meaning that everything is within the individual, is a mantra to some. While I can accept that most things are colored by a personal world view, even the Dalai Lama recently reminded us that you can have all the compassion possible, but if bullets come, you should get out of the way.

The aspects of life that are undeniably from within are emotions. Happiness, sadness, satisfaction: these are all created by the person not the outer world. One individual can be overjoyed surrounded by poverty; another, in despair living in a mansion. (I am willing to admit that it might be a tad easier in the mansion.)

Tow-truck driver Darryl Kerrigan (Michael Caton) is living the good life. Everything is wonderful and grand. His house in Colloroo, Australia is on a toxic landfill, in the landing path of the airport next door and next to buzzing power lines. It's the ultimate fixer-upper with every section an unfinished project in the works. But it's his home and it's a marvelous one. He even has a pool room. Never mind there's only about two feet of space on any side of the table.

Darryl is as proud as can be that his daughter Trace (Sophie Lee) has a degree from an institute of higher learning. He doesn't care that it is from a beauty school and she sports the worst hairdo in the country.

Every moment is a blessing. Each night he compliments his wife (Anne Tenney) on what a marvelous dinner she has prepared. ("This meal is wonderful, what do you call this?" "Chicken.") His vacation home is a shack on a mostly dried up lake. To him it's an incomparable palace.

They are the down-under equivalent of "white trash", but they're happy with it and that's all that matters.

He may be living in denial, but he's riding Cleopatra's pleasure barge down the river.

When the federal government sends him a notice that it is taking his home to make room for an airport expansion, he is convinced they can't do it. He decides to fight and isn't very successful in the first court appeal. His defense of "It isn't right" doesn't impress the magistrate. Not one to give up the noble fight, he works his way up to the Supreme Court.

In another blow to the over-budgeted Hollywood tradition, this charming little film was made on a remarkably low budget and is picking up a sizable audience. Like the "Blair Witch Project", it's a triumph of substance over money.

Shot in just 11 days with a Super-16 camera, the tale of innocent struggle is an easy-going story of the triumph of the small fry. Much like the making of the film itself.

A team of four created the film, voting on who was to be director (Rob Sitch). Santo Cilauro was chosen to be cameraman because, "The guys sort of realized I was handy with the old wedding camera."

The characters are a bit quirky to be completely believable, but they're easy to warm up to. Every time the family finds a bargain in the classifieds - and they find a lot of them - it's a victory. Even if they don't have the least idea what they're going to do with that remarkable deal on a pulpit.

Australia has a reputation for enchanting films. Picnic At Hanging Rock, The Man From Snowy River and many more are unassuming movies about human beings. As much fun as special effects are, it's a pleasure to sit in a movie theater and watch something quiet and cheerful.