I tried something new this week which was scary and required me to “put myself out there” in a way. I started a chat on the Substack app! If you’re unfamiliar with it, chats allow us to have ongoing conversations with each other outside of the comment section. Some of my favorite times on Substack have been thanks to particularly rowdy chats (Hunter Harris’ Love is Blind chats are particularly fun). It turns out that we actually get along well with those who read the same stuff we do! Go check it out so I’m not just talking to myself. :) In order to see the chat you need to subscribe to The 90-Minute Movie and download the Substack app.
We’re coming to our fourth and final installment of creature feature month here on The 90-Minute Movie. What a ride it’s been! From werewolves to spiders to sharks (and possibly voodoo?), we’ve had a time haven’t we? To close it out this week I have something extra special for you. An ‘Ozploitation’ film that captures not only the horrors of the Australian outback but of mankind as well. So strap in cobbers, we’re going boar hunting!
Razorback (1984, 107 minutes) has so many amazing elements that I want to start running my mouth about but let me give you the quick story rundown so you can follow along with the chaos that is a giant, killer boar in the outback. We open on Jake Cullen (Bill Kerr) taking care of his grandson, when they are suddenly attacked by an outrageously large razorback (a type of feral boar). Despite Jake being an experienced hunter, the boar somehow runs off into the night with his grandson. From here we make two very important time jumps…
First we jump forward to Jake’s trial where he is being charged with the murder of his grandson. No one wants to believe his giant razorback story, not even his own daughter. Jake is acquitted on murder charges but is still held responsible by the community. Then we jump two years forward and to New York City (jarring as hell, but you know, anything for the plot) where we meet who we think will be our main character, Beth Winters (Judy Morris). A newly pregnant Beth decides to leave NYC and her husband Carl (Gregory Harrison) behind to film a protest documentary about the murder of kangaroos in Gamulla, a rural Australian town. (That happens to be where Jake lives.)
It isn’t long of course until Beth is dead under mysterious circumstances concerning two brothers Dicko (David Argue) and Benny (Chris Haywood) Baker and the giant razorback. Carl arrives in town shortly after to get some answers, and does so with the help of Jake and researcher Sarah Cameron (Arkie Whiteley).
As you’ve so very clearly read, the structure of the story is already unlike most scripts. Simply put, it doesn’t give a shit about attachment and it will kill off anyone at any time. For five minutes we believe that Jake will be our main character, but are then thrown when we realize that no, Beth is our main character. And then again when actually, no it’s not Beth but her goofy husband Carl who was burning dinner in a scene 15 minutes ago. Watching this movie feels like tripping forward rather than moving ahead. And it’s great for building a real fear of the outback and its creatures (including the men).
Razorback was born out of the Ozploitation period of Australian filmmaking. Similar to how the introduction of the R-rating in the US created a boom of edgier films in the 70s, so did the ratings adjustment in Australia. With this change, and when paired with the government’s interest in restoring an industry that had all but fizzled out, Australia filmmaking boomed and many of those films contained explicit material. You perhaps know the most famous of these stateside: George Miller’s Mad Max and the series’ subsequent films.
Within the first 20 minutes of Razorback, I thought, “Wait, is Mad Max not that special and is this just what an Australian film looks like?” (If it wasn’t abundantly clear before that I am unfamiliar with Aussie films, it is now.) I was struck immediately by the use of color and the expansiveness of the outback. The opening shot of a setting sun, barbed wire, and sand blowing past a distant house felt lonely, earthen and worn, and otherworldly. Australia as a different planet feels very Mad Max to me. And, it turns out, I was a little bit on to something because Razorback’s cinematographer happens to be the same as Mad Max 2’s. The similarities were not in my head, which is always so rewarding. Also adding to this movie’s unique outlook is Director Russell Mulcahy, a music video director probably best known for “Video Killed the Radio Star” (you know, the first music video ever aired on MTV.) His take on every scene is so surreal and disorienting you’re equally afraid of what’s coming next, even if it isn’t the boar.
Perhaps the most visually stunning moment of the movie is when our hero(?) Carl is lost in the outback, wandering, hallucinating, and stealing warmth from the carcass of a kangaroo. He wanders through what can only be described as Salvador Dali paintings with each mise en scène distinctly different from the last. He walks from a Mars-like desert to one with white white sand and blue skies and a disturbing horse carcass. Take a look for yourself at the clip below and this will tell you a lot about Razorback as a movie. I’m sure you’ll note that there is NO boar in this particular moment. And isn’t that what we’re supposed to be afraid of?
Well, the filmmakers would like to leave that up to you to decide. While yes, there is a massive razorback on the loose killing and maiming people, a lot of the movie’s pivotal points are directly caused by two human creeps, Dicko and Benny, who I mentioned earlier. The two brothers operate the Pet Pak factory where kangaroos are turned into dog food. They are violent, dirty, greasy, and dress like they are absolutely from some Mad Max-ian gang.
Dicko’s a bit worse than his brother, committing most of the crimes while Benny watches. It is Dicko who testifies against Jake in court, it is Dicko who runs Beth off the road and attempts to rape her before the boar shows up sealing her fate, and it is Dicko who ultimately breaks Jake’s knees leaving him for dead in the boar’s watering hole. Dicko and Benny have no morals, no sense of empathy and apparently no gag reflex (in one scene Dicko eats a sandwich in a blood drainage pipe). Beside the razorback, who like the shark in Jaws and the spiders in Arachnophobia, is simply doing what it does (hunt, kill, sleep), Dicko and Benny are what we really find ourselves afraid of.
The story is a bit meandering -- do we need the introduction of a beautiful boar researcher named Sarah? Not really. She does help to soften the distinctly male dominated energy of the movie, but then again adds very little to the actual story other than being someone that both Jake and Carl can rely on. There aren’t many kills, and we spend almost the entire movie in razorback denial. We actually never get the satisfaction of the town finding out that Jake was right along. Jake dies at the “hands” of the boar and Carl and Sarah shred it at the Pet Pak factory to survive. I’m not saying I need that kind of closure but when you build your most interesting character (Jake) on his expulsion from society, well, then the story does kind of need it. Justice for Jake!
Even with the script’s failures, I would recommend getting your hands on this one as soon as possible. The filmmaking is unique, beautiful, and disturbing. Come for the razorback, stay for the impeccably shot outback scenes.
And that my friends, closes out “spooky” season. When I’m back next week we’ll be in November and I’ll be wading my way through some other genre. If you’re just stopping by for the first time and you loved this post! Check out my other creature feature posts from this month: