The Journalist

This must be the worst Aussi flick I've ever had the misfortune to see. Full of well known Australian actors and it's my bet they cringe with embarrassment whenever this movie is mentioned. It's our Ishtar. Dustin Hoffman once said, "everbody has an Ishtar" and boy was he right the only difference with 'The Journalist' is that it includes practically all of our popular Australian actors whereas Ishtar belongs to two men, Dustin Hoffman and Warren Beattie. The movie reminds me of a time in Australia when we were desperately attempting to find ourselves some sort of cultural identity. We didn't like to be seen as ockers so we attempted to project some sort of pseudo intellectual sophisticate image which was as transparent as glass. It's totally unintentional but the Journalist gives an insight into what we were like during the seventies, bumping around in the dark trying to find ourselves and if we're lucky we might find our way out of the darkness. Taken at face value the movie fails miserably at whatever it's trying to express probably because the producers didn't really know what they were attempting in the first place. Taken from the viewpoint of someone who was coming of age in the seventies it's successful at showing just how lost we were during those adolescent times giving us a real sense of relief when we realize that it's all over, we're no longer searching. We've found ourselves and although we don't like everything we see at least we know where we should be heading as Australians in the twenty first century. With that in mind, it is worth a look.

As in this, something leads us to believe Jack Thompson was considered a stud back in the day. Although The Journalist isn't plot driven, it has been based loosely on a real identity, that Thompson plays. Like Petersen, he has his fair share of sexcapades which start at his place of work, or when he takes business trips to Asia, where he indulges in more pleasure than business. He even picks up two much younger hotties in a bar who work him over. His soon to be wife, (Elizabeth Alexander) who's madly in love with him, is fun to watch, who keeps forgiving him, after the revolving doors of his infidelity. The split screen of him chatting to her from Asia, while bedding an Asian hottie is one of the few funny moments. He even seeks help from a doctor, explaining his situation. This explanation sounded clichéd of other movies he does, where he beds numerous women, this almost becomes laughable. His competition and nemesis, Sid (Charles Bud Tingwell) hates Simon (Thompson) where underneath it's clearly palpable he envies him. When becoming Thompson's boss, Sid has him put in the journalistic animal department. One scene I love every time I see it, is an old woman bringing her two big poodles in the office, where one of them urinates over Thompson's desk. Thompson, pulls a phony stringing him up by the neck gesture, with his tie, telling this interviewee that he has a date with his psychiatrist. Another delight is Thompson's daughter, who not only acts well, but acts older than she, character wise. She lives with his Simon's ex, a strict sort. We can kind of see why Thompson left her for the delightful Alexander. Incidentally Alexander and Thompson's daughter in this, showed up again in Summerfield, years later. Sam Neil, Thompson's friend and colleague, Rex, so wants the affections of Alexander, he doesn't have much to do here in the film, but be a slightly jealous buddy, and realize he'll have to make do with second place in the romantic stakes, when he's not bouncing back against nude statues in an art exhibition. Despite it's flaws and weaknesses, of course, we're talking plot, The Journalist still manages to be entertaining, but there are no real messages this movie sends home, or potent value, just that some men are pigs, and are prone to infidelity. So not everybody's perfect, but neither is this film.

Many say film in Australia was revived in the 1970s. Well, 'The Jouranlist' (1979) can't have been one of the productions to embody that accolade.

Poor script, flat acting combine to deliver an embarrassing mish-mash about a young Journalist who can't keep his trousers up no matter how hard (forgive me!) he tries. Why such an 'affliction' should be the subject of 90 minutes of celluloid is beyond me. Alfie it ain't. And there are no insights into the world of Journalism, only clichés and caricatures.

The editing rates a special mention. I can only assume that when the director Michael Thornhill viewed the finished product he had no idea what to cut and what to leave in. I understand his dilemma. The result is a series of discordant scenes which seem to bear no connection with each other and in which the actors recite lines in isolation, as if there is no one else present.

The real irony of "The Journalist" is that it features many of Australia's best actors (excluding Victoria Nicholls), most of whom made valuable contributions to the revival of the film industry in this country. 0/10