The Dismissal

First rate telling, all the way, of the sacking of tough nut Gough Whitlam who wouldn't go down without a fight, magnificently portrayed by Phipps, but yet again, every actor is at their acting peak in this. This double cassette pic has you right in from the start and doesn't let go. We also have some awesome stock footage. I honestly couldn't believe how this movie got in. I had politics, which as one shock jock, refers to it, as "A dirty rotting stinking game". That's exactly what it is, in a nutshell. Just watch this. Whitlam's defiance not to be taken down, I found inspiring, in such a detailed account of this great film, beautifully and periodically shot, it's soundtrack unforgettable, with first class performances to boot, the acting cream of the crop, just like this movie's the cream of the crop of other Aussie pics. A must watch. No excuses.

One of the fitting things with this series is the narration, which introduces it: "This isn't going to be easy." It's not an easy ride for anyone who remembers it. Mention of these events can still start screaming matches in any Aussie pub. That's the second reason to see it.

The first reason to see it is the stunning portrayal of Gough Whitlam by the late Max Phipps - one of Australia's greatest actors.

This is a superbly acted miniseries that covers the 1975 Australian Constitutional Crisis.

After a series of scandals that engulfed the Australian Labor Party government of the early 1970's, the House of Representatives representing the people numerically and the Senate representing the people of each state went to political war over the budget! With each house controlled by opposing parties and the government running out of money, the Senate demanded that Prime Minister Whitlam call a general election to solve the deadlock. Whitlam refused stating the long accepted convention that as long as his government had the confidence of the Lower House of Parliament, he could stay in office. It was at this point that the long thought irrelevant institution of the Crown, represented by Governor General John Kerr got involved to remind the politicians, and the people that elected them, where power truly resides in the Westminster System.

How this crisis was resolved should not only be of interest to Australians but also to the citizens of other Commonwealth countries, especially Canada and the UK, with their bicameral (yet unelected) Upper Houses. Even Americans, with their elected bicameral Congress, will find some parallels!

This really is a story that should be more well known to those interested in political science and history around the world! Highly recommended!

After traveling around the world, it dawned on me that Australia really lacks one thing that other countries have: history.

Fortunately or unfortunately, Australia wasn't establish following a war, it has not had a civil war and most of its political history is rather..... boring! Nothing "big" happened to mark some sort of turning point in Australia's history.... until the dismissal of the Whitlam government by the Governor-general of Australia - John Kerr.

For those outside Australia who may not know, we are constitutional monarchy - we have our own constitution, but retain reigning British Monach as the head of state. The Queen is represented in Australia by her "Govenor-General" though the role is somewhat regarded as a bit of a "rubber stamp" role. Theoretically, the Governor-general can refuse to sign a law passed by Australian parliament if (s)he thinks fit, though the power isn't exercised by convention. Now the events of 1975 - covered in this film - gave rise to a precedent on this particular section: if the governor-general is somehow 'displeased' with the government and/or Prime Minister, it would appear that section 64 of the Australian Constitution allows him to lawfully sack the government (which happened in 1975... hence the title of the film "the dismissal.")

Now that this background aspect is out of the way, let's get back to discussing the film. It was well made. The pace was patient, but didn't drag at all. The drama was well contained and very realistic. It didn't over-dramatise the events and most importantly, it did not present its point of view from one political perspective. On the contrary, I felt that it was fair and balanced, even though concluding text before the credits indicates that the film-makers probably didn't approve of the Governor-general's decision to dismiss the Whitlam government. But I wouldn't describe the film overall as bias in one direction or the other.

In terms of accuracy, it was virtually spot on. The film-makers certainly did their homework and evidently read the books and writings from all the principle players concerned. There were a number of finer details that were somewhat skipped over, largely because they took a long time to explain and ultimately had little impact on the events of 1975, so I forgive them for that. Further, I think it was difficult to recreate the public sentiment of that post-Vietnam war era, but Noyce pretty much pulled it off.

Finally, I was pleased that the film attempted to raise individual policies of both sides without becoming analytical, obsessive or judgmental over them. Moreover, any that we're raised, for example Connor's pipeline, had a great deal of relevance to the story. The film makers realised that their task was to tell the story of the events leading to the dismissal and not to present a political endorsement or opposition in relation to policies and viewpoints. This was smart because it meant that the film can't be accused of misrepresenting one side's policies.

The dismissal is probably the most incredible piece of political history that has occurred in Australia in its short life. I am glad that it has been crystallized in celluloid. Essential viewing for any Australian.

Kennedy-Miller could hardly have done a better job at tackling a very challenging exercise: making dry political events work as human drama, and providing an even-handed representation of explosively controversial subject matter.

The key to its success on the first count is brilliant acting, although I was less impressed by Max Phipps' performance as Gough Whitlam than some other commenters here. The clear standouts for my money were John Stanton as Malcolm Fraser and Bill Hunter as Rex Connor. The latter must have been one of the easiest casting choices in history - Hunter could not have been more perfect for the role. On the second count, the series avoids the "myth of objectivity" trap through a narrator who articulates the sympathies of the director (Phillip Noyce, who more recently demonstrated his left-wing credentials in Rabbit Proof Fence), while being carefully even-handed and sympathetic in its dramatic portrayal of all parties. The adherence to the Lady Kerr/Lady Macbeth theme popular among Labor partisans was perhaps a little partial, though not ruinously so. In particular, credit is due for the sympathy shown to Kerr and the extraordinarily difficult position he was placed in, whatever one might think of his actions.

However, there is one sour note for which the producers were perhaps not entirely to blame - the portrayal of the Jim Cairns/Juni Morosi affair. Those who come to the series with no background to these events will get the impression that Cairns and Morosi were the innocent victims of a smear campaign by a prurient gutter press. The producers may have been restrained in this respect by Australia's stultifying defamation laws, and the recently demonstrated willingness of Cairns and Morosi to use them against those who suggested their relationship was sexual (which Cairns would eventually admit to a year before his death). However, more could have been made of the bizarre fashion in which Morosi managed Cairns's office as Treasurer.

Speaking of defamation, there are a couple of disorienting occasions where dialogue is obscured due to injunctions taken out by offended principals - by a beeping noise on one occasion, and a very loud telephone ring on another. A further curiosity: the DVD release excises a line from the comic relief scene where a customs officer (played by the late Paul Chubb) serves Tirath Khemlani on his arrival at Sydney Airport. Next in the queue is a dishevelled looking hippie, who now receives only a disapproving glare from Chubb when he presents his paperwork. In the original version, Chubb said something along the lines of: "drug bust in Bali, eh?". Obviously this line no longer rings true in the wake of the Schapelle Corby case, which dramatically illustrated that those busted for drugs in Bali can expect far worse than deportation.