Ben Peek (benpeek) wrote,
Ben Peek

  • Music:
Risk, alan white's second film, and set in the middle of big business in sydney.

(though as i watch it, the delightfully attractive claudia karvan is taking the innocent country boy hero out to the beach. ah. such as shame what the tv show has done to her.)

Risk is about money. flowing into the hands of briefcase carrying insurance claimers and lawyers. which is secretly how the CBD of sydney works, at least in general mythology. fat men, greying hair, round stomachs sagging with the injection of corruption that is part of their daily diet.

Risk is also about corruption.

the corruption in sydney flows both ways: company ripping off company, employee ripping off company, average citizen ripping off company, employee ripping off citizen, and company ripping off employee. there are probably more variations of this, but on a basic level, that's that.

ooh, drugs have entered the movie now. snorting lines off a silver tray. now, this is big business in sydney.

on a landscape of sydney, the 'burbs are low run brick houses running along lawns and small wooden fences. sydney itself is this dark monolith of buildings, white urinals, pubs made from black steel and wood, cars of various kinds (though none of them resembling cars i drive), and, of course, the sparse pale blue of offices.

there is also the harbour bridge, lit up at night, the metaphor for bridges over water as the hero has a turn for the emotional worse while in a narrow alley, tattooed with graffiti.

steel cage doors line houses and apartment blocks.

big business corporate scams. the new crime ways.

you know, bryan brown is somewhat of a joy in a movie these days. the craggy faced, narrow axe shaft of a man, the classic australian man, with a cigarette in one hand and a crooked tie in the other.

have you ever noticed how the inside of offices (and not just in this movie, but i am also thinking of the few i have been in) are very well lit? as if the lighting plan is pushing away all the dark corners and the secrets that hide in them.

i once found myself in an office block that was just being constructed in parramatta. there were no tables, no walls to make cubicles, nothing like that in it yet. just a wide empty space of a floor, full of light, and with a huntsman sitting in the middle of the room. it was a huge thing, the size of my hand, dark grey and hairy, just sitting there in the middle of the floor.

it doesn't mean anything, has no metaphoric or added value. i just remember it. the strangest thing about the floor, was that the toilets had been completely outfitted. paper, soap, the whole deal.

Risk is finished.

you know what happens? the protagonist screws over the company, which is such a very middle class thing to do. being middle class (well, lower to middle), i support it.

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