Picnic at Hanging Rock
Year: 1975 Director: Peter Weir Producers: Hal McElroy, Jim McElroy Starring: Anne Lambert, Karen Robson, Jane Vallis, Rachael Roberts Screenplay: Cliff Green; from the novel by Joan Lindsay Cinematographer: Russell Boyd Production Company: McElroy & McElroy
Following a decline in domestic moviemaking, the seventies ushered in the Liberals, tax incentives and government support to encourage film production. Consequently Australian cinema experienced a significant rebirth, as talented directors like Bruce Beresford, Phillip Noyce and Peter Weir helped to establish our own distinct screen identity and to change the perception of Australian cinema both locally and internationally. The most influential work in this filmmaking “renaissance” was Picnic at Hanging Rock, Weir’s deliberately oblique and haunting masterpiece which remains one of our country’s finest cinematic achievements. An enigmatic puzzle rich in subtext, metaphor, and even claiming a vague basis in fact, this adaptation of Joan Lindsay’s novel not only announced the arrival of a major new filmmaking talent, but proved a radical detour for Australian film following a succession of ocker comedies. Picnic at Hanging Rock offered something unique. Tapping into the sexual repression of the school system, the European ideals impinging upon our nation at the turn of the century, and the primal forces of nature itself, it’s a coming of age tale like no other, as a trio of schoolgirls lose far more than their virginal innocence when the imposing (and undeniably phallic) Mount Macedon monolith claims them during a sleepy St. Valentine’s Day outing, circa 1900. Bravely cross-pollinating the period drama with the horror film, Picnic at Hanging Rock blossoms with the irresistible allure of an unsolved mystery; the key to its success and enduring popularity. To gripe about a lack of closure is to miss the point entirely. As suggested by Miranda’s paraphrasing of Poe during the opening credits, the film is more concerned with the intersection of dream and reality than exposition, simple solutions or clever twist endings. Indeed, Joan Lindsay has remarked in interviews that the entire story came to her as an episodic dream. Although offering a number of tantalising and frustrating clues, the film’s heavy reliance upon symbolism leave any and all such explanations open to viewer interpretation. As
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if Gheorghe Zamfir’s ethereal pan-pipe score isn’t enough to raise goosebumps, the strange events surrounding the disappearance of the girls – watches stopping at noon, the report of a mysterious red cloud, Edith’s chilling scream – hint at some possible alien or supernatural intervention; while young Englishman Michael (Dominic Guard) and his mate Albert (John Jarratt), although instrumental in the return of the missing Irma (Karen Robson), are never really beyond suspicion. The girls are introduced as symbols of innocence, bathing in rose-scented water, laced into tightly fitting corsets and draped in white gowns that accentuate their purity. A ceremonial tribute to St. Valentine at the base of the Rock – in which the girls form a circle and a knife is raised, only to slice into a heart-shaped cake – is itself evocative of the pagan practices found in The Wicker Man (1977), which also concerns itself with the connection between sexual awakening and ancient natural forces. Miranda (Anne Lambert), the film’s ethereally beautiful poster-girl and “Botticelli angel”, appears to possess knowledge of her impending fate in her prophetic announcement prior to the picnic, “I won’t be here much longer”; while the displaced edifice of Appleyard College starkly contrasts rigid Victorian society with the wild qualities of the Australian bush. Could the girls’ disappearance then conceivably be a product of the untamed landscape’s revenge against social order? Russell Boyd’s dreamlike cinematography, achieved through simple experimental techniques like shooting through a bridal veil, further enhances the incredibly haunting atmosphere and sense of foreboding that permeates the film, as do his static shots of what appear to be eerie faces (possibly indigenous?) that appear intrinsic to the Rock. Weir would further explore issues of metaphysical mystery and nature as a tangible threat in his subsequent feature The Last Wave (1977), prior to moving on to Hollywood success, including a further examination of the school system in Dead Poet’s Society (1989). He has also since revised Picnic at Hanging Rock as a ‘Director’s Cut’, which differs from the original cinema version in the loss of some seven minutes of footage: most notably a subplot involving Michael’s relationship with the rescued Irma (removed for purposes of pacing). However, these minor changes do little to disrupt what is an inherently spellbinding movie experience. Scott Hocking