Cirrus@Austlit

Like its Windmill theatre stageplay predecessor, the screen adaptation of Girl Asleep dramatises the difficult process of leaving childhood behind while gaining maturity, seen through the eyes of a teenage protagonist. In conversation with director Rosemary Myers and writer/actor Matthew Whittet, Elizabeth Flux examines how the global success of this offbeat, whimsical film – with its quirky plot, 1970s setting and stylised scenes – epitomises a refreshing, alternative pathway for Australian cinema.

The Cronulla Riots were a dark episode in Australia's recent history, revealing the festering antagonism between Sydney's white and Middle Eastern populations, and reflecting the ongoing tensions of life in a multicultural society. Abe Forsythe's Down Under satirises this event, creating comedy from the capers of two carloads of misguided young men. But with Australia still plagued by conflicts and inequalities rooted in race and ethnicity, argues Mehal Krayem, this film's subject matter really is no laughing matter.

These days, with the rise in digital filmmaking, the growth of alternative distribution and the existence of countless film festicals, a lot of movies are being made – so it's more vital than ever for fledgling titles to have something special to vouch for their audience-worthiness. Horror films have a particularly good track record in this respect, even launching the careers of several cinematic greats. But, Glenn Dunks asks, is Killing Ground one such success story?

Particularly because of its unique fauna, flora, topography and history, Australia provides fertile ground for makers of horror films. In the case of Red Billabong, an outback setting and Aboriginal mythology come together to culminate in a quintessentially Australian example of the 'natural horror' subgenre. Emma Westwood speaks to director Luke Sparke about his influences and the origins of his feature debut.

The ABC adaptation of Christos Tsiolkas' Barracuda may have downplayed some of the novel's explicit queerness, but in its place is an astringent subversion of Australia's glorification of sporting heroism and the white, hetero-masculine ideals tied to it. Moreover, writes Dion Kagan, the narrative's focus on swimming encapsulates the country's deep investment in individualistic social mobility, with the series interrogating societal inequities rooted in class, race, gender and sexuality.

Set against the lush, mountainous landscapes of Australia's island state, and with a narrative that highlights how a menacing past can inexorably intrude on the present, Foxtel's The Kettering Incident has all the hallmarks of the Tasmanian gothic genre. Beyond this, the series appropriates science fiction elements to convey a powerful message about the struggle between commercial self-interest and environmental preservation, writes Emily Bullock.

When Alvin Purple was released in 1973, I was glad that it proved popular but never, for a moment, thought it was of any other significance. Since then, several writers, including Catherine Lumby, caused me to rethink my snobbish perspective on the film. Now Alexandra Heller-Nicholas' insightful essays gives further grounds for reappraisal, placing the film in dual contexts of 'then' and 'now', and providing persuasive arguments for considering this light-hearted comic piece on a commentary on changing sexual and gender mores, and as a phenomenon of the Australian film revival. It's easy to forget how largely dormant the local film industry had been until the early 1970s, and Alvin Purple's popularity should make us try to understand the basis of this. The current essay makes a serious contribution to this process. – Brian McFarlaneBrian McFarlane, Series Editor.