Friday, May 18, 2001
Early on in ‘The Dish’, the lads running the radio telescope start playing cricket actually in the dish, and I realised I’d already seen the film.
It was called ‘Local Hero’, or ‘State and Main’, or was it a TV show called ‘Northern Exposure’, or ‘Hamish Macbeth’ or ‘Ballykissangel’? Either way, it was clear that I was being manipulated in a pretty crass way, and I settled down in my seat knowing there weren’t going to be any surprises from here on in.
For all those working on their own similar gentle comedy screenplay, here are a few elements to include.
Crucially, you need an outsider who arrives in a backwater place full of whimsical charm. It’s best if the blow-in’s an American from a big city, because then we’ll expect him to be curt and annoying, and it will be so great when we realize he’s actually a nice bloke (by the way, everyone in the film’s a nice at heart, just hang on to that, and you’ll be fine).
Then there’s the outspoken local who has a short temper and a chip on his shoulder and doesn’t like taking orders from the blow-in. But he’ll soon learn that it’s different strokes for different folks, and that deep down, sure, we’re all the same aren’t we?
We also have to have the shy but handsome guy who wants to ask out the prettiest girl in town, but get this, at the start of the film he’s _too shy_. No prizes for guessing what happens by the end, then. Think John Gordon Sinclair in ‘Local Hero’, Lachlainn in ‘Hamish Macbeth’ or Glenn in ‘The Dish’.
We also need the wise figure who’s a bit too urbane and talented for the surroundings, but he likes it there because it’s out of the way and quiet; he helps the shy bloke, and gets on well with the incomer. This is the Sam Neill character in ‘The Dish’, but the archetype is in some ways Chris from ‘Northern Exposure’. Part of their role is slightly to stand back from the proceedings and tell you what the drama’s about.
So listen carefully when Sam Neil says, ‘Failure is never quite so frightening as regret.’ An easy to digest homily, and (in a cunning device where the two plots parallel each other) it applies equally well to putting a man on the moon, or asking out the prettiest girl in the town. Strewth, these Aussie film-makers are no dags. Ripper.
Which brings me to another crucial element – language and culture confusions. So have the incomer look mystified when a colourful local tells him something he doesn’t understand; you can then reverse this later on as a sign that the incomer has been accepted.
You need to show that the rural community is both remote and a community. A good bit of violent weather underlines that this isn’t’ some safe urban environment, and a big dance or party in the village hall shows the community spirit. You can kill two birds with one stone and have the big dance affected by the big weather, if you fancy it.
Throw in some entertaining secondary characters, like someone stupid but likeable, (or a pompous local politician), and make sure everyone all lives happily ever after, and you’re away on a hike.
‘The Dish’? It’s well done, tender, and served with some relish. But I’ve already had my fill, thanks.