'This issue marks the 20th anniversary of Senses of Cinema, and we are pleased to present to you a bumper issue with a full range of film writing, provocative ideas and interviews and reports from around the world. Our dossier this issue posed a very simple question: as we bring the 2010s to a close, what was the most significant influence on or moment in cinema in the past decade? Writers were free to discuss a movement or an incident or a specific film – the breadth of this dossier and the perspectives that people have taken on this are really remarkable. The dossier is designed to be quick, accessible and insightful, so dive in and explore what our very best writers have to say about the 2010s; it makes for fascinating reading, and really encourages us to think about where cinema will be by the end of the ’20s. And to celebrate our anniversary, we have also included an extra mini-dossier of some of the greatest writing from over the last 20 years of this journal. Senses of Cinema has built a tremendous community for film discussion, criticism and writing that is smart, well researched and engaging. This is our opportunity to throw a mini-dossier party to celebrate our achievements and the incredible work of editors past and present, and our vision of our journal as a locus for intelligent film discussion that spans the globe.' (Publication summary)
'In the twentieth century, many of the most notable depictions of Indigenous Australians and their culture in feature films were steered by white filmmakers: see, for example, Jedda (Charles Chauvel, 1955), Walkabout (Nicolas Roeg, 1971), The Chant of Jimmie Blacksmith (Fred Schepisi, 1978), Manganinnie (John Honey, 1980) and The Fringe Dwellers (Bruce Beresford, 1986), to name a handful. While these are foundational and generally empathetic works, their dramatisations of Aboriginal life nonetheless exhibit signs of misguided exoticism, cultural appropriation and inauthenticity: on Jedda, for example, director Chauvel had the voice of lead actress Rosalie Kunoth-Monks (then Ngarla Kunoth) dubbed on the soundtrack due to uncertainty about presenting Indigenous voices on film, signifying a colonial hangover.' (Introduction)
'The bulk of Ivan Sen’s cinematic oeuvre – documentary and fiction (not that there is always great disparity between the two) – converges around a set of core themes: the intractable legacy of British colonialism and racism; the complex inscriptions on, and meanings of, landscape; the resilience of Indigenous Australia; the importance of cultural connection; and a quiet optimism for a just, caring Australia – one in which historical wounds can be healed.' (Introduction)
'A dead Indigenous girl, no more than 16 years of age, is discovered in a drain underneath a highway in the aptly named Massacre Creek area. The drain is flanked by the wide, impossible expanses of outback Australia – a place where screams go unheard and violence can be wrought without any real fear of reprisal. Her throat has been cleanly slit by an unknown assailant for an unknown reason, and wild dogs have already taken to her corpse. This is how Ivan Sen’s Mystery Road opens.' (Introduction)
'On its release in 1971, Wake in Fright (Ted Kotcheff) was unkindly received by Australian critics and public alike, the bone of contention being its representation of an outback male society whose interests are limited to drinking hard, gambling hard and fighting hard, with a shameless enthusiasm for blood sports thrown in for good measure. It is a criticism that still holds sway even though the film has now reached cult status in this country. Such a criticism, however, largely draws attention away from the psychological make-up of its central character, John Grant (Gary Bond), from whose point-of-view we experience this seemingly barbaric society.' (Introduction)
'What exactly is it that so many different love about Samson and Delilah? For those who haven't heard, it is an unusual love story about two teenagers living in a remote Aboriginal community in Central Australia. Delilah (Marissa Gibson) is a shy but headstrong 14 year old, solely responsible for the care of her elderly grandmother, Nana (Mitjili Napanangka Gibson), while Samson (Rowan McNamara), also 14, is a "petrol sniffer" - a young Aboriginal teenager addicted to petrol as a form of intoxication. In the Australian popular imagination, petrol sniffers are objects of pity or repulsion, shadowy figures seen mainly in the news reports of the so-called "Aboriginal problem" in the Northern Territory. They are what Thornton calls "the untouchables" - young Aboriginal addicts who are socially marginalised within both their Aboriginal communities and the wider Australian society.' (Introduction)
