The Castle: rewatching classic Australian films
Rob Sitch’s tale of blue-collar heroes with hearts of gold became one of Australia’s most widely quoted comedies and catapulted Darryl Kerrigan straight into the pool room of cinematic legends ...Luke Buckmaster Fri 4 Apr 2014 10.05 AEDT
It's been more than a decade and a half since Darryl Kerrigan (Michael Caton) first walked his greyhounds, gazed lovingly at huge electricity poles looming over his humble family abode and successfully fought The Man to save his "castle" from compulsory acquisition.
Kerrigan hired an attorney so incompetent he couldn't operate a photocopier told the big guys "ta get stuffed" and – to use Kerrigan-esque vernacular – rocketed himself and his family straight into the pool room of Australian cinematic legends. Blue-collar heroes with hearts of gold and zero-bullshit attitudes.
One of our best-loved and most widely quoted comedies, this wonderfully unprepossessing crowd pleaser is the jewel in the crown of Working Dog, a production company whose small-screen successes such as The D-Generation, The Late Show and The Hollowmen usually outweigh their occasional cinematic forays in quality and quantity.
What was it about The Castle that connected so strongly with critics and audiences? The wonderful thing about Rob Sitch's magnum opus (he also directed The Dish, a pleasantly fluffy soufflé of historical recreation, and Working Dog's shamelessly American-brand romcom Any Questions For Ben?) aren't the jokes, which flow thick and fast, but the way in which the film manages to balance deprecation with tenderness and warmth.
"My name is Dale Kerrigan, and this is my story," intones the opening words of Stephen Curry’s narration. With a mullet, fringe, freckles and an awkward direct-to-camera gaze, Curry’s look resembles the kind of daggy high-school photo we put in a drawer and try to forget about. "Dad bought this place 15 years ago for a steal. As the real estate agent said, location, location, location. And we're right next to the airport!"
The all-important castle is introduced: we see a shot of a tidy suburban house pan left to reveal an airport runway directly over the fence. “Dad still can't work out how he got it so cheap. It's worth almost as much today as when we bought it,” Curry continues, and after that gently mocking insinuation we see Darryl Kerrigan for the first time, watering his garden with a big smile plastered across his face.
The Castle could easily have played as a down-the-nose ridicule of lower-middle class suburban Australia. But Sitch avoids ridiculing his characters despite sending up the way they talk, the things they cherish, even the food they consume. (Sponge cake is considered a delicacy; medium-rare steaks are burnt to a crisp.)
This was likely achieved intuitively rather than engineered – Sitch has spoken about how his father inspired Darryl's character – and the secret can be found in the proverbial pool room. It is not the gaudy mugs and tacky souvenirs it contains that are in important, but the sentimental value they hold. Likewise, it is not the characters' plebeian behaviour that holds the film's focus but the sincere place from which it emerges. ... Click here to read more



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