Long Weekend. Man, what
a hard hitting, punch in the nuts movie. For 1945, this movie
pulled no punches, brother. Ray Miland may have slid down
the path o’ cheese by the 70’s with classics such
as The Thing With Two Heads, but the guy
sure as hell showed the world he had chops with this one.
At a time when alcoholism was still considered pretty damned
funny, director Billy Wilder… (editor: Palmer. You’re reviewing Long Weekend this week. Not The Lost Weekend.)
The Lost Weekend? I’m confused. (ed: The Lost Weekend was Billy Wilder’s
unflinching look at the true damage alcoholism could cause.
It came at a time when the public barely understood that such
a thing was an illness and not just something to be mocked
openly. It’s really quite something.)
Yeah. What a gutsy picture. But I’m not reviewing
that? (ed: No. You are reviewing Long Weekend.)
What’s the difference? (ed:
Well, The Lost Weekend is a gloves-off portrayal
of alcoholism.)
Yeeahhhh. And? (ed: Long
Weekend is an Australian-made, late 70’s nature
gone bad movie.)
Fuck… me.
(ed: Please forgive Palmer and
give him some time to shake off his obvious disappointment,
as he clears his head to absorb this, what I am sure is a
fine, fine piece of cinema. Thank you.)
Sorry about that, gang. As my eagle-eyed editor indeed pointed
out, this movie does not have anything to do with alcoholism.
Even though there is some boozin’ going on,
the consequences have more to do with grumpy koala bears and
kangaroos than a crapped out liver. Here we go.
 Peter
(John Hargreaves) and Marcia (Briony Behets) start off the
flick in a typical movie couple situation: a failing marriage
in its death throes that can only be resurrected by a camping
trip. I don’t get it either. Anyway, after splattering
a kangaroo across the road the couple makes a winding trip
through the spoooooky woods and finally reaches their destination.
Of course, their disregard for the environment doesn’t
stop there. Once Peter arrives he’s gotta start chopping
away at a tree for no apparent reason and Marcia has to leave
all this litter and crap on the ground PLUS spray the poor
fuckin’ ants who were attracted to the mess and just
want to eat, for cryin’ out loud. If that’s not
enough, ol’ trigger happy Pete goes off and ventilates
a near-extinct sea cow (well, now even nearer, I
imagine. Thanks, Pete…) with his manly rifle under the
misconception that he’s snuffing out a shark.  Dumbass.
You’re lucky that all the radio reports aren’t
suggesting some odd goings on with wildlife and nuclear testings
and such. Then you’d really be in for it. What?
They are? Good. Go get’em, boys.
There sure are a shitload of crappy nature gone wild movies
from that era, huh? Leave it to those resourceful Aussies
to polish up a turd of a concept and make it seem new. From
the get-go there is a wonderful underlying creep that permeates
throughout, all the way to the end of the movie. You don’t
get that too often. Even the best creepy films have lulls,
but director Colin Eggleston was able to keep that “something’s
about to go horribly wrong” feeling afloat like the
bloated corpse of a dead sea cow.
This type of movie sure as hell could have been as heavy-handed
with its pro-environment message as Ferngully: The
Last Rainforest, but the filmmakers wisely rode the
edge on this one. For all of the main characters’ ignorance
to the wildlife around them, it rarely felt like I was being admonished, which is a refreshing trait for a “message”
movie. Even fuckin’ Captain Planet and His Planeteers always made me keep one eye peeled for some single-tear-weeping
Indian when I was headed out of doors. Thanks in part to that
restraint and some damn fine use of those creepy, creepy woods,
however, this potentially obvious film rises above all of
those other nature-gone-bad movies and proudly wears the badge
of “must see” if you dig this sort of thing. Sure,
a lumpy-assed damn sea cow ain’t all that fear inducing
(rather silly, really), but I knew I was going to enjoy the
movie when the verbal directions to the beach at which they
were camping included the phrase, “You know, past the
abattoir.”
I had to zip back a few frames to experience that line again.
How Does It Look, Smartguy?
Sweet. I am certain this low budget flick has never looked
so good. What you have here is a 2:35:1 High Def Anamorphic
transfer of a film that was even shot anamorphically at the
time. Not flawless by any stretch of the imagination, but
damn fine. Sometimes there is some image wavering or a distracting
flicker to look out for, and there were some pretty gray-looking
blacks within the first 10 minutes or so, but they make up
for it later, especially when the spooky spooky woods near
the end really show off the goods here.
How's It Sound,
Ya Bum?
You have English Dolby 5.1 Surround and Dolby Digital
2.0 Mono. Obviously, I rode this bad boy with the 5.1. It’s
about the wilderness and spooky noises. I had to. For
the most part, much of the remastering made sense and took full
advantage of all speakers when appropriate for added effect.
It certainly added to the film and made it feel more expensive
than it was. The problem, however, is that a few sequences were
not handled with the same care as others. Every once in a while
you will detect that annoying little “flanging”
sound that one hears when a soundtrack is digitally mixed incorrectly.
You can hear it in the wind, or droning sounds, like car engines,
every once in a while. Again, it’s not all the time, and
only in some of the earlier sequences.
You Think I Just
Wanted The Movie, Pal?
Not all that much.
An Audio Commentary by Producer Richard Brennan
and Cinematographer Vincent Monton which is pretty damned
dry, if you ask me. I zipped thru it for the most part. It
was very hard to listen to.
 A Still Gallery slideshow sort of presentation with
an audio interview of John Hargreaves playing over it is also
included. It runs about 5 minutes or so. It’s a shame
they couldn’t find and interview that had anything to
do with the movie or anything, but since the fella’s
no longer among the living I guess they had to make do with
what they were able to dig up. It would have made more sense,
however, to just keep the gallery a separate feature from
the interview since they have little or nothing to do with
each other.
Finally, the Original Theatrical
Trailer can be viewed, and it captured the mood of the
film fairly well. A little “1978” of course, but
I expected much, much worse.
Bring Us On Home,
Brother
Considerably better than what one would expect, this low budget
B-movie does indeed rise above the genre in which it ultimately
got pigeonholed. Some genuine creepiness and an intelligent
decision to keep the preaching on the down-low prevent this
from becoming another Night of the Lepus.
Of course, Long Weekend doesn’t have
actors the likes of Richard Burton or Deborah Kerr, but it
makes do with what it’s got. If Long Weekend was based on a Tennessee Williams play, too, I’m sure
bigger names would have flocked to… (ed:
Palmer.)
What? (ed: You’re talking
about The Night of the Iguana. Not
Night of the Lepus. You’re confused, again.)
Really? What’s the difference? (ed: The Night of the Iguana is a John Houston
movie that is based on a play by Tennessee Williams which
is another strong character study by Williams that touches
upon such themes as temptation and the redemption of the human
spirit.)
And Night of the Lepus? (ed:
It’s a giant bunny movie with Dr. McCoy.)
Fuck off.
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