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World Directors
Baz Luhrmann
This is the first major book-length study of the work of Australian film-maker Baz Luhrmann, one of the most exciting and controversial personalities working in World Cinema today. Luhrmann's reputation as an innovator rests on the evidence of the three films known as the Red Curtain Trilogy: Strictly Ballroom (1992), William Shakespeare's Romeo + Juliet (1996) and Moulin Rouge! (2001), which together demonstrate the development of a highly distinctive style and brand.
Pam Cook, who was given unprecedented access to the Luhrmann private archives, explores the genesis of the Red Curtain aesthetic, from Luhrmann's early experience in theatre and opera to his collaborative working methods and unique production set-up. Drawing on in-depth interviews with Luhrmann and his chief collaborator, designer Catherine Martin, she traces the roots of their work in an increasingly globalised Australian film culture, investigating the relationship of their company Bazmark to the Hollywood studio Twentieth Century-Fox, and the influences on their style and production methods. At the book's heart are substantial analyses of the spectacular Red Curtain films and the historical epic Australia (2008). This lively and original study of one of contemporary cinema's most fascinating figures will appeal to film scholars, cultural historians and Luhrmann enthusiasts alike.
208 pages, Hardcover
First published May 15, 2010
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August 20, 2010
Review of Baz Luhrmann by Pam Cook
So provocative and insightful are Pam Cook’s analyses of Luhrmann’s Red Curtain films, that I felt I had to re-see them in order to evaluate the quality of her conclusions. The movies discussed in the book are Strictly Ballroom, William Shakespeare’s Romeo + Juliet, Moulin Rouge, and Australia. Anyone who has undertaken thorough analysis of even one film knows it is a lengthy task. Every motion picture has the equivalent of more than 100,000 frames, each of which can be dissected as art historians dissect a painting. After doing my own analysis of Strictly Ballroom, it was clear that my original goal was impossible to meet for the purposes of this review, so I will focus on that film, with reference to the other films in passing to give you a taste of what Cook says.
First, in the Intro to the book, Cook maintains that she is interested in what makes for a national cinema and how movies are branded. She proposes that Luhrmann has established a true Australian movie, albeit with international influences. She develops this thesis further as she scrutinizes individual films. At the outset, I must admit that she does not convince me. First of all, all cinema, from the early talkies on, have been international. Even Hollywood, that metonym for movies in general, was influenced by both German and French cinema from the beginning. In turn, it is virtually impossible to make a picture in any country with absolutely no Hollywood influences. The only movies I know of that are largely devoid of American influences are those of Kim Ki Duk, the Korean filmmaker. That doesn’t mean there aren’t others similarly unaffected. I just haven’t seen any. This, of course, is a debatable issue for another forum and someone out there will joyfully prove me wrong.
What I looked for in Cook’s claims were the specifics that she cites for each film to show that Luhrmann has appropriated Hollywood and turned it to new purpose. She believes, and here I agree with her wholeheartedly, that retelling can be an act of originality. Most works of art are retellings. Cook points out that Luhrmann’s William Shakespeare’s Romeo + Juliet is play just such a retelling, just as Shakespeare’s play itself was a retelling of a 16th century poem which, in turn, was a retelling of much older stories–even myths—of young lovers denied. Luhrmann’s title for Romeo + Juliet was his way of saying that he, like Shakespeare, plundered earlier works to produce an original work of art. Like Shakespeare, Luhrmann relied on hyperbole, used popular music of the day, and purposely set his play in a nowhere place at no particular time.
Cook believes that Luhrmann’s retellings create a new Australian national film. This is debatable, as is shown below. This is not to say that Luhrmann is not original. That he certainly is. Like most postmodern filmmakers, he references and quotes other films, but to new purpose. What he creates is both markedly his, and also, I believe, original and innovative. Admittedly, before I can judge whether he has, indeed, created an Australian national cinema, I have to watch Australia again, which I will. As shown below, Strictly Ballroom is not strictly or even loosely specific to Australia, as Cook claims.
For each movie she presents, Cook tells how the movie was produced, how different effects were achieved, the rationale behind selection of the musical score, how it was received critically, how much money it made and from what sources. Beyond such facets of movie making are her analyses of each as a work of art, and, specifically, as noted, an Australian one.
Consider Strictly Ballroom. The movie pits an innovative, but sincere, honest, young outsider against the corrupt power-holders, the Anglo-Celtic Australians whose cultural conservatism dictates how people should and must behave. The outsider here is the star, Paul Mercurio, who is identified by Australians as being of Spanish descent; hence, by definition, not part of the Australian elite. He plays the role of Scott, however, a boy from an Anglo-Celtic family. His otherness is established by his actual ethnicity. This otherness is emphasized by his falling in love with Fran who looks Anglo-Celtic, but who speaks Spanish and is shown living with her very Spanish family. The contrast between her home and Scott’s is highly marked.
Luhrmann references Hollywood musicals of the 1940’s and 50’s throughout, as well as Saturday Night Fever and Cabaret, both from the ‘70’s. As with Romeo and Juliet, locales are largely imaginary, although a few can be determined. Time is similarly deconstructed. It is not clear if the movie is all flashback or if it is taking place in a fictional present. For instance, its explosive opening of dancing to The Blue Danube is followed by a switch to a documentary mode showing the hero Scott’s mother moaning about his insistence on individuality. Then the film shows a title “3 days later.” 3 days later than what? The waltzing scene or the moaning mother scene?
Luhrmann’s use of hyperbole and travesty are manifested throughout the film. Cook sees this as particularly Australian. She notes the multitude of references to well-known Hollywood musicals, from Gene Kelly and Cyd Charisse, to Doris Day’s singing “Perhaps, Perhaps” to Saturday Night Fever’s motif of John Travolta’s maturing through his love for a woman. Even Scott’s solo dancing is redolent of Travolta’s iconic solo performance. The judges of the dance competition are travesties of Joel Grey’s role in Cabaret. The dancing venues in the movie use the kinds of sets that were used in the 50’s, but with ‘70’s disco balls twirling. Cook points out that neither hair styles nor costumes belong to any one time or place.
The color is heightened throughout to the point of being garish, a reference to the vividness of Technicolor. The dancing competition is ruled by grotesque ribald representatives of conservative Australian society. Cook says that all of this, the hyperbole, the general heightening, the pastiche, and the travesty show that Luhrmann is not paying homage to Hollywood musicals. He is showing that they are in the past and need to be changed. I don’t argue with this conclusion. Neither does Hollywood, since such movies have not been made in decades. The 70’s musicals themselves did not hark back to Singin’ in the Rain or Doris Day
The central issue in Strictly Ballroom is that of the young upstart who overturns the rigid power structure. The young, sincere Scott is a Jimmy Stewart type. When he persists in dancing his own steps and the music is cut off, the entire audience of the dance competition begins to clap the rhythm, affirming that the corrupt power structure has been overturned. This is straight out of a Capra movie, a very American ethos, which rejoices in seeing the young discard the old. This final scene is not travesty, not hyperbolic, not garishly colored, not satiric at all. It starts as in a Capra* film with Scott’s father clapping, and others slowly joining him until they reach the climax with Scott and Francesca’s innovative dancing. Even the motto, introduced by the outsider, Francesca, “A life lived in fear is only half a life” is repeated in Spanish throughout the movie in both English and Spanish. It is a motto in the film spurring Scott to rebel. As part of his maturation, Scott learns to say it in Spanish. All this indicates that such a thought is not an Australian idea. It comes from the “outside.” I must add that, although it is said in Spanish by a Spanish-Australian girl, it is a typically American sentiment, one expressed in many ways in many genres of Hollywood films.
It is impossible in a review to discuss Cook’s insights into the other movies. Although I disagree with her on one point, I heartily agree with most of what she says. I have long shared her belief that retelling and quoting from prior sources, when apropos, create new originals. She added a dimension to my appreciation Luhrmann’s oeuvre, and that is saying something as I taught the semiotics of film for over thirty years. The joy in teaching such a course lies in watching students start to see movies in entirely new ways. Cook does that even for knowledgeable viewers. Reading her book is a joy.
Semiotic analyses are usually couched in impenetrable phrasing and joyless, opaque jargon. Cook’s writing, however, is accessible, flowing, and cogent.
*Capra didn’t show this by having people clap to the rhythm of a dance, however.
So provocative and insightful are Pam Cook’s analyses of Luhrmann’s Red Curtain films, that I felt I had to re-see them in order to evaluate the quality of her conclusions. The movies discussed in the book are Strictly Ballroom, William Shakespeare’s Romeo + Juliet, Moulin Rouge, and Australia. Anyone who has undertaken thorough analysis of even one film knows it is a lengthy task. Every motion picture has the equivalent of more than 100,000 frames, each of which can be dissected as art historians dissect a painting. After doing my own analysis of Strictly Ballroom, it was clear that my original goal was impossible to meet for the purposes of this review, so I will focus on that film, with reference to the other films in passing to give you a taste of what Cook says.
First, in the Intro to the book, Cook maintains that she is interested in what makes for a national cinema and how movies are branded. She proposes that Luhrmann has established a true Australian movie, albeit with international influences. She develops this thesis further as she scrutinizes individual films. At the outset, I must admit that she does not convince me. First of all, all cinema, from the early talkies on, have been international. Even Hollywood, that metonym for movies in general, was influenced by both German and French cinema from the beginning. In turn, it is virtually impossible to make a picture in any country with absolutely no Hollywood influences. The only movies I know of that are largely devoid of American influences are those of Kim Ki Duk, the Korean filmmaker. That doesn’t mean there aren’t others similarly unaffected. I just haven’t seen any. This, of course, is a debatable issue for another forum and someone out there will joyfully prove me wrong.
What I looked for in Cook’s claims were the specifics that she cites for each film to show that Luhrmann has appropriated Hollywood and turned it to new purpose. She believes, and here I agree with her wholeheartedly, that retelling can be an act of originality. Most works of art are retellings. Cook points out that Luhrmann’s William Shakespeare’s Romeo + Juliet is play just such a retelling, just as Shakespeare’s play itself was a retelling of a 16th century poem which, in turn, was a retelling of much older stories–even myths—of young lovers denied. Luhrmann’s title for Romeo + Juliet was his way of saying that he, like Shakespeare, plundered earlier works to produce an original work of art. Like Shakespeare, Luhrmann relied on hyperbole, used popular music of the day, and purposely set his play in a nowhere place at no particular time.
Cook believes that Luhrmann’s retellings create a new Australian national film. This is debatable, as is shown below. This is not to say that Luhrmann is not original. That he certainly is. Like most postmodern filmmakers, he references and quotes other films, but to new purpose. What he creates is both markedly his, and also, I believe, original and innovative. Admittedly, before I can judge whether he has, indeed, created an Australian national cinema, I have to watch Australia again, which I will. As shown below, Strictly Ballroom is not strictly or even loosely specific to Australia, as Cook claims.
For each movie she presents, Cook tells how the movie was produced, how different effects were achieved, the rationale behind selection of the musical score, how it was received critically, how much money it made and from what sources. Beyond such facets of movie making are her analyses of each as a work of art, and, specifically, as noted, an Australian one.
Consider Strictly Ballroom. The movie pits an innovative, but sincere, honest, young outsider against the corrupt power-holders, the Anglo-Celtic Australians whose cultural conservatism dictates how people should and must behave. The outsider here is the star, Paul Mercurio, who is identified by Australians as being of Spanish descent; hence, by definition, not part of the Australian elite. He plays the role of Scott, however, a boy from an Anglo-Celtic family. His otherness is established by his actual ethnicity. This otherness is emphasized by his falling in love with Fran who looks Anglo-Celtic, but who speaks Spanish and is shown living with her very Spanish family. The contrast between her home and Scott’s is highly marked.
Luhrmann references Hollywood musicals of the 1940’s and 50’s throughout, as well as Saturday Night Fever and Cabaret, both from the ‘70’s. As with Romeo and Juliet, locales are largely imaginary, although a few can be determined. Time is similarly deconstructed. It is not clear if the movie is all flashback or if it is taking place in a fictional present. For instance, its explosive opening of dancing to The Blue Danube is followed by a switch to a documentary mode showing the hero Scott’s mother moaning about his insistence on individuality. Then the film shows a title “3 days later.” 3 days later than what? The waltzing scene or the moaning mother scene?
Luhrmann’s use of hyperbole and travesty are manifested throughout the film. Cook sees this as particularly Australian. She notes the multitude of references to well-known Hollywood musicals, from Gene Kelly and Cyd Charisse, to Doris Day’s singing “Perhaps, Perhaps” to Saturday Night Fever’s motif of John Travolta’s maturing through his love for a woman. Even Scott’s solo dancing is redolent of Travolta’s iconic solo performance. The judges of the dance competition are travesties of Joel Grey’s role in Cabaret. The dancing venues in the movie use the kinds of sets that were used in the 50’s, but with ‘70’s disco balls twirling. Cook points out that neither hair styles nor costumes belong to any one time or place.
The color is heightened throughout to the point of being garish, a reference to the vividness of Technicolor. The dancing competition is ruled by grotesque ribald representatives of conservative Australian society. Cook says that all of this, the hyperbole, the general heightening, the pastiche, and the travesty show that Luhrmann is not paying homage to Hollywood musicals. He is showing that they are in the past and need to be changed. I don’t argue with this conclusion. Neither does Hollywood, since such movies have not been made in decades. The 70’s musicals themselves did not hark back to Singin’ in the Rain or Doris Day
The central issue in Strictly Ballroom is that of the young upstart who overturns the rigid power structure. The young, sincere Scott is a Jimmy Stewart type. When he persists in dancing his own steps and the music is cut off, the entire audience of the dance competition begins to clap the rhythm, affirming that the corrupt power structure has been overturned. This is straight out of a Capra movie, a very American ethos, which rejoices in seeing the young discard the old. This final scene is not travesty, not hyperbolic, not garishly colored, not satiric at all. It starts as in a Capra* film with Scott’s father clapping, and others slowly joining him until they reach the climax with Scott and Francesca’s innovative dancing. Even the motto, introduced by the outsider, Francesca, “A life lived in fear is only half a life” is repeated in Spanish throughout the movie in both English and Spanish. It is a motto in the film spurring Scott to rebel. As part of his maturation, Scott learns to say it in Spanish. All this indicates that such a thought is not an Australian idea. It comes from the “outside.” I must add that, although it is said in Spanish by a Spanish-Australian girl, it is a typically American sentiment, one expressed in many ways in many genres of Hollywood films.
It is impossible in a review to discuss Cook’s insights into the other movies. Although I disagree with her on one point, I heartily agree with most of what she says. I have long shared her belief that retelling and quoting from prior sources, when apropos, create new originals. She added a dimension to my appreciation Luhrmann’s oeuvre, and that is saying something as I taught the semiotics of film for over thirty years. The joy in teaching such a course lies in watching students start to see movies in entirely new ways. Cook does that even for knowledgeable viewers. Reading her book is a joy.
Semiotic analyses are usually couched in impenetrable phrasing and joyless, opaque jargon. Cook’s writing, however, is accessible, flowing, and cogent.
*Capra didn’t show this by having people clap to the rhythm of a dance, however.
September 20, 2010
Baz Luhrmann is without a doubt my favorite living movie director. Strictly Ballroom, Romeo + Juliet & Moulin Rouge are three of my all time favorite movies, and while I wouldn't put it in my top ten, I really liked Australia also. So, I was thrilled to check out Baz Luhrmann by Pam Cook. I was expecting the book to read like a biography, which would have been fine by me...I do love a good biography...but I was pleasantly surprised that it was more about the actual making of Luhrmann's movies, commercials and other art extravaganzas. While there were certainly biographical elements of Luhrmann's story throughout the book, what it was really about was Luhrmann as an artist, and I found that to be absolutely fascinating. I also really enjoyed the analysis in the book about Luhrmann as an Australian filmmaker and what that means on a variety of levels. There was also excellent analysis of Luhrmann's movies in terms of their messaging, race, gender, and the tendency for Luhrmann to represent the "outsider" and what that means. Also, great credit is given to Luhrmann's life and artistic partner, Catherine Martin, who has had a large role in all of his films, providing Production Design and the like. I feel like this book would be a great addition to many film courses as well as a highly recommended read for any Luhrmann fans or folks who wish to know more about the creative process for making movies. My one beef is actually the colonialist nature of the book cover. I really don't like the book cover as I feel like it has that white woman as savior to a child of color vibe going on for it and I don't agree that it is the best cover that would represent Luhrmann and his work. It just felt really colonialist to me and it made me not want to read the book in public. But if you get past the cover, I think you will really enjoy the book.
January 2, 2013
Pam Cook's book on Luhrmann gives a detalied analysis of the working process behind the Baz Luhrmann Red Curtain Trilogy: "Strictly Ballroom", "William Shakespeare's Romeo + Juliet" and "Moulin Rouge", as well as the commercial "No. 5 The Film" and the film "Australia", providing a presentation of Luhrmann's aesthetic vision and commenting on his role as a distinctly Australian film maker compared and contrasted with his constructive relationship with the Hollywood giant 20th Century Fox. Each film is treated individually. The biographical details of the creative process behind each of the films is well-documented, as is also his sources of inspiration in earlier films and popular culture and the critical reception of the films. There is glimpse of Luhrmann's reliance on archetypal themes which could be investigated further, if only to try and investigate the relationship between aesthetics and the ethical values which the films portray. A good introduction to this interesting flim maker and his working process.
July 2, 2013
Won from Goodreads. Probably a better fit for a college-level film class, than for this reader. More detail than I wanted on the director.
December 10, 2011
An intriguing insight into Baz Luhrmann's work - which includes two of my favourite ever films, Romeo + Juliet and Moulin Rouge!.
Displaying 1 - 5 of 5 reviews