Article by William
Crossing to the other side
Melbourne Age, Saturday June 7, 2008
William McInnes
Our tolerance, and sometimes lack of it, is explored in Unfinished Sky, reveals William McInnes.
MANY YEARS AGO I WAS invited to the family dinner of a girl with whom I was friendly.
They must have thought I was a lot more friendly than I was because the television was turned off for the meal - a sign of deep significance to me, for the television in our house was seldom off.
The father and I stood and shook hands as I was introduced to him. He had been watching a television show called Wild Kingdom with his two younger children, a girl and a little boy. He went to turn the TV off.
The little boy asked to watch a little bit more, just to see who won the fight. Wild Kingdom was always about animals fighting or eating each other - which was a handy coincidence because the program was shown about dinner time. It was hosted by a man called Marlin Perkins and he would whine on about wildebeests, warthogs, lions and the like, while families and the big cats would both tuck in.
That night it was baboons. Their behaviour in the Wild Kingdom struck the father of the household as odd. Some new baboon was being chased off by the others because he wasn't from their tribe or whatever you call a group of baboons.
"Stupid animals. They're completely the same, look at them. Can't tell the difference. No wonder they stayed in the trees." We watched them fight and then he turned the television off and we walked to the table.
"It's not like those monkeys are really different from each other. Not like us - we can tell who's different to us. Look at these Vietnamese people that are coming in here." And he raised his eyebrows.
Nothing more was said about new immigrants or dim-witted baboons - indeed he and many others thought this quiet intolerance and suspicion was completely normal. His raised eyebrows were an indication of how easy and proper it was to recognise and deliberate upon the difference, the otherness, of the Vietnamese and ourselves. Us being Australians who belonged. We settled down to a feast of rissoles, gravy and Rosella savoury rice.
We chewed like a collection of creatures from Wild Kingdom and he asked me, "What do you want to do with your life?"
My only thought was - I'm not that friendly with your daughter.
That was more than 25 years ago but the idea of the acceptance or non-acceptance of otherness is still with us; indeed, it is an underlying idea of the film Unfinished Sky.
In the Oxford dictionary, otherness is defined as the quality or the fact of being different. Otherness comes in many forms. My mother was full of advice about the dangers of otherness - never trust people who had no lobes to their ears or if they had webbing between their toes or if their eyes were too close together. My father never liked people with beards and was wary of left-handers.
There are more homespun ideas about otherness. But the most obvious idea of otherness was that which struck the father of the household all those years ago - that of religious or racial otherness.
In those terms then we and the baboons from Wild Kingdom have some common ground. If something is different, then more often that not it is regarded with fear and suspicion.
For difference means change and dealing with change reminds us of many things.
Mostly it reminds us that we are temporary, our lives are finite and so if together we can build community, culture, and a system of beliefs and values, then we have a sense of permanency.
Otherness makes us question our certainty. And I think there is a fundamental apprehension, and perhaps even fear, about things that are different.
That is the emotion felt by the characters in Unfinished Sky.
The appearance of a stranger makes other characters behave in certain ways, ostensibly to defend their positions. So at first the stranger, the vessel of otherness, is ignored, then engaged and, in turn, attacked and defended. This theme isn't overplayed - it's entertainment after all - but hopefully entertainment with a bit of brain.
If the film reflects one thing, it's the idea that nobody is hard and fast in their character make-up. We are layered. And even though otherness can be uncomfortable, it can also enrich. How we deal with otherness gives an example of a particular Australian characteristic.
We are very good at being world-beaters and even better at thinking we are the world's worst.
The truth lies somewhere in the middle. In the first decade of federation, Australia racked up a string of social changes that celebrated and included otherness: women were given the vote, a system of industrial arbitration was initiated, the idea that there should be opportunity for all abounded, and rugged individualism was held to be a national creed.
Yet hand in hand with this was a raging sectarianism and the implementation of the White Australia Policy.
To an extent these aspects of Australia still exist in varying forms. We remember the Australia Day riots on the beaches of Sydney and the institutional bewilderment at coming to terms with the intricacy of indigenous Australian issues. And yet the ledger is weighed heavily in favour of Australia. We have a society that is multi-racial and diverse in make-up, and a justice system and bureaucracy that seeks to protect and enhance the idea of Australia being a tolerant and accepting society.
Australia is an isolated country that still in many ways defines itself with homogeneous icons that belong to an earlier idea of itself. Sun-bronzed lifesavers and slouch-hatted diggers. We gradually change as otherness is assimilated into a dominant Australian culture. Australia may sometimes be tentative in taking steps, but nevertheless heads roughly in the right direction when the question of otherness is raised.
As in the film Unfinished Sky, there is a dividend when otherness is embraced, for it is a two-way interaction. It may take time but I think that is the key to living with otherness.
Not so long ago I trotted along the beach in the town where I grew up. My name was called out and I turned to see the woman I was once friendly with. I walked over to the barbecue area where she stood with her family. We chatted for a while and laughed about the rissoles, gravy and savoury rice. The smells of snags and onions mixed with those of rice paper rolls and coriander.
She called out to her father, who was playing with his grandchildren. One had fallen and he picked up a small child and cuddled her and made her laugh with funny faces. Another man of similar age stood close and waved at the little girl. "She'll be right, two granddads to spoil her," said the woman.
The men came over and said hello.
"Grandkids wearing you out?" I asked.
"No way. Love 'em. They're just too much fun. This is the latest edition. My son's girl."
I remembered the little boy who wanted to watch the baboons fight. His granddaughter smiled at her pop and pulled at his cap. Her other granddad waved a finger. He was Vietnamese, as was his wife.
The two old men laughed together. The boy who had wanted to watch the fight had grown up and married a first-generation Australian girl from Vietnamese parents.
Time goes by and things change and we choose, I suppose, to try and resist the change that otherness can bring. Or we can be like the old man embracing his grandchild, embrace it and grow. And, as for the baboons, well, I'll leave them to Marlin Perkins.
Unfinished Sky opens on June 19. William McInnes will answer questions after special screenings at 4 pm on June 15 at Nova and 6pm at Como.
Melbourne Age, Saturday June 7, 2008
William McInnes
Our tolerance, and sometimes lack of it, is explored in Unfinished Sky, reveals William McInnes.
MANY YEARS AGO I WAS invited to the family dinner of a girl with whom I was friendly.
They must have thought I was a lot more friendly than I was because the television was turned off for the meal - a sign of deep significance to me, for the television in our house was seldom off.
The father and I stood and shook hands as I was introduced to him. He had been watching a television show called Wild Kingdom with his two younger children, a girl and a little boy. He went to turn the TV off.
The little boy asked to watch a little bit more, just to see who won the fight. Wild Kingdom was always about animals fighting or eating each other - which was a handy coincidence because the program was shown about dinner time. It was hosted by a man called Marlin Perkins and he would whine on about wildebeests, warthogs, lions and the like, while families and the big cats would both tuck in.
That night it was baboons. Their behaviour in the Wild Kingdom struck the father of the household as odd. Some new baboon was being chased off by the others because he wasn't from their tribe or whatever you call a group of baboons.
"Stupid animals. They're completely the same, look at them. Can't tell the difference. No wonder they stayed in the trees." We watched them fight and then he turned the television off and we walked to the table.
"It's not like those monkeys are really different from each other. Not like us - we can tell who's different to us. Look at these Vietnamese people that are coming in here." And he raised his eyebrows.
Nothing more was said about new immigrants or dim-witted baboons - indeed he and many others thought this quiet intolerance and suspicion was completely normal. His raised eyebrows were an indication of how easy and proper it was to recognise and deliberate upon the difference, the otherness, of the Vietnamese and ourselves. Us being Australians who belonged. We settled down to a feast of rissoles, gravy and Rosella savoury rice.
We chewed like a collection of creatures from Wild Kingdom and he asked me, "What do you want to do with your life?"
My only thought was - I'm not that friendly with your daughter.
That was more than 25 years ago but the idea of the acceptance or non-acceptance of otherness is still with us; indeed, it is an underlying idea of the film Unfinished Sky.
In the Oxford dictionary, otherness is defined as the quality or the fact of being different. Otherness comes in many forms. My mother was full of advice about the dangers of otherness - never trust people who had no lobes to their ears or if they had webbing between their toes or if their eyes were too close together. My father never liked people with beards and was wary of left-handers.
There are more homespun ideas about otherness. But the most obvious idea of otherness was that which struck the father of the household all those years ago - that of religious or racial otherness.
In those terms then we and the baboons from Wild Kingdom have some common ground. If something is different, then more often that not it is regarded with fear and suspicion.
For difference means change and dealing with change reminds us of many things.
Mostly it reminds us that we are temporary, our lives are finite and so if together we can build community, culture, and a system of beliefs and values, then we have a sense of permanency.
Otherness makes us question our certainty. And I think there is a fundamental apprehension, and perhaps even fear, about things that are different.
That is the emotion felt by the characters in Unfinished Sky.
The appearance of a stranger makes other characters behave in certain ways, ostensibly to defend their positions. So at first the stranger, the vessel of otherness, is ignored, then engaged and, in turn, attacked and defended. This theme isn't overplayed - it's entertainment after all - but hopefully entertainment with a bit of brain.
If the film reflects one thing, it's the idea that nobody is hard and fast in their character make-up. We are layered. And even though otherness can be uncomfortable, it can also enrich. How we deal with otherness gives an example of a particular Australian characteristic.
We are very good at being world-beaters and even better at thinking we are the world's worst.
The truth lies somewhere in the middle. In the first decade of federation, Australia racked up a string of social changes that celebrated and included otherness: women were given the vote, a system of industrial arbitration was initiated, the idea that there should be opportunity for all abounded, and rugged individualism was held to be a national creed.
Yet hand in hand with this was a raging sectarianism and the implementation of the White Australia Policy.
To an extent these aspects of Australia still exist in varying forms. We remember the Australia Day riots on the beaches of Sydney and the institutional bewilderment at coming to terms with the intricacy of indigenous Australian issues. And yet the ledger is weighed heavily in favour of Australia. We have a society that is multi-racial and diverse in make-up, and a justice system and bureaucracy that seeks to protect and enhance the idea of Australia being a tolerant and accepting society.
Australia is an isolated country that still in many ways defines itself with homogeneous icons that belong to an earlier idea of itself. Sun-bronzed lifesavers and slouch-hatted diggers. We gradually change as otherness is assimilated into a dominant Australian culture. Australia may sometimes be tentative in taking steps, but nevertheless heads roughly in the right direction when the question of otherness is raised.
As in the film Unfinished Sky, there is a dividend when otherness is embraced, for it is a two-way interaction. It may take time but I think that is the key to living with otherness.
Not so long ago I trotted along the beach in the town where I grew up. My name was called out and I turned to see the woman I was once friendly with. I walked over to the barbecue area where she stood with her family. We chatted for a while and laughed about the rissoles, gravy and savoury rice. The smells of snags and onions mixed with those of rice paper rolls and coriander.
She called out to her father, who was playing with his grandchildren. One had fallen and he picked up a small child and cuddled her and made her laugh with funny faces. Another man of similar age stood close and waved at the little girl. "She'll be right, two granddads to spoil her," said the woman.
The men came over and said hello.
"Grandkids wearing you out?" I asked.
"No way. Love 'em. They're just too much fun. This is the latest edition. My son's girl."
I remembered the little boy who wanted to watch the baboons fight. His granddaughter smiled at her pop and pulled at his cap. Her other granddad waved a finger. He was Vietnamese, as was his wife.
The two old men laughed together. The boy who had wanted to watch the fight had grown up and married a first-generation Australian girl from Vietnamese parents.
Time goes by and things change and we choose, I suppose, to try and resist the change that otherness can bring. Or we can be like the old man embracing his grandchild, embrace it and grow. And, as for the baboons, well, I'll leave them to Marlin Perkins.
Unfinished Sky opens on June 19. William McInnes will answer questions after special screenings at 4 pm on June 15 at Nova and 6pm at Como.
posted by WilliamWatch at 4:54 PM
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