Burning Man (MA)

UK actor Matthew Goode is probably best remembered for his role as Charles Ryder in Brideshead Revisited or as Colin Firth’s lover in A Single Man. He is incorrigibly charming as the British chef Tom in a Bondi restaurant, but chaos of the frantic kitchen where he works is nothing when compared to his totally out of control life.

Writer/ director Jonathan Teplitzky admits that this fictionalised story is based on his own experiences and he wanted to recreate the ‘reckless sense of freedom that comes when the universe has dealt you such a blow that you no longer feel obliged to obey any rules.’

This film makes the audience work … leaves are blown around an empty garden, a woman is crying, a car crashes and food swirls around the driver as the car rolls over in slow motion. While flames threaten to engulf the trapped driver, a woman calls out, ‘you selfish bastard’.

Watch the trailer to Burning Man.

Food porn and soft porn are juxtaposed, with pleasure and pain being closely entwined as Tom continues along his self-destructive path. The audience develops a dislike towards him, but the people around him, particularly the women, seem incredibly tolerant. It is only in fragmented flashbacks that we find out the reason for his extreme emotional pain.

Tom is fuelled by anger and deep grief after the loss of his wife Sarah (Bojana Novakovic) and his behaviour hits an all-time low when he attempts to have a birthday party for his 8 year old son Oscar (Jack Heanly) at the beach. Things spiral out of control, police become involved and Sarah’s sister Karen (Essie Davis) is contacted to take care of Oscar. Completely lacking in any sentimentality, the film leaves Tom to deal with his grief and to work through his problems.

One reviewer gave this film ten out of ten, and I would have to agree. It certainly is the most rewarding Australian film I have seen. It is a brave journey into love and loss, a very intense journey of discovery for both Tom and the audience. Fortunately, there is a great deal of humour along the way.

Teplitzky has said that he always felt that if you’re dealing with themes of sadness, ‘you need a healthy dose of black humour, not just to make it accessible, but to make it real. A degree of irreverence is essential when you are trying to cope with the unbearable’.

Lezly Herbert

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