The Turning (2013) Movie Script
Because I do not hope
to turn again.
Because I do not hope.
Because I do not hope to turn.
I left them Misting,
turning below.
There were no more faces
and the stair was dark,
damp, jagged,
like an old man's mouth
dribbling, beyond repair.
Or the toothed gullet
of an aged shark.
Desiring this man's gift
and that man's scope,
I no longer strive
to strive towards such things.
Because I know
that time is always time.
And place
is always and only place.
And pray that I may forget
these matters
that with myself,
I too much discuss,
too much explain.
Because these wings
are no longer wings to fly
but merely fans
to beat the air -
the air which is now thoroughly
small and dry,
smaller and drier than the will.
Teach us to care
and not to care.
Teach us to sit still.
Although I do not hope
to turn again.
Although I do not hope.
Although I do not hope to turn.
After five years of high school,
the final November arrives
and leaves
as suddenly as a spring storm.
Exams, graduation,
huge beach parties.
Biggie and me, we're feverish
with anticipation.
We steel ourselves
for a season of pandemonium.
But after
the initial celebrations,
nothing really happens.
Somehow our crappy
Saturday job at the meatworks
becomes full-time.
And then Christmas comes and
so do the dreaded exam results.
The news is not good.
A few of our classmates
pack their bags for university
and shoot through,
and suddenly there we are -
Biggie and me,
heading to work
every morning in the frigid wind
in the January of our new lives.
Some days I can see me and
Biggie out there as old codgers,
anchored to the friggin' place.
Beside me, Biggie's face
gets darker and darker.
When the shift horn sounds,
he lurches away,
his last canon half-empty.
"Fuck it," he says.
"We're outta here."
That afternoon, we buy a kombi
from a hippie on the wharf.
We fill the ancient VW
with tinned food
and all our camping junk
and rack off
without telling a soul.
I can't believe we've done it.
The plan is to call
from somewhere
the other side of the city,
when we're out of reach.
I want to be safe
from the guilts.
The old girl
will crack a sad on me.
But Biggie
has bigger things to fear.
His old man will beat the shit
out of him when he finds out.
I can't tell Biggie this,
but missing out on uni
really stings.
When the results came,
I cried my eyes out.
I thought about killing myself.
Biggie's results
were even worse than mine.
He'd really fried.
But he didn't have his heart
set on doing well.
He couldn't give a rat's ring.
In his head,
he's always seen himself
at the meatworks or the cannery,
until he inherits
a salmon netting license
from his old man.
He's content.
He belongs.
Biggie's not
the brightest crayon in the box
but he's the most loyal person
I know.
He's the real deal.
We didn't meet until
the second week of high school.
I was new in town
and right from the start,
a kid called Tony Macoli
became fixated on me.
That's how it started -
a single
decisive act of violence
that joined me to Biggie
forever.
If you believe him
on the subject,
he acted more out of
animal irritation than charity.
But I felt like somebody
ransomed and set free.
Biggie became my mate,
my constant companion.
Friendship, I suppose,
comes at a price.
There have been girls
I've disqualified myself from
because of Biggie.
Not everyone wants to have him
tagging along everywhere.
Right through high school,
I had occasional moments,
evenings, encounters with girls,
but no real girlfriend,
and mostly I don't regret it.
Except for Briony Nevis.
For two years,
we're sort of watching
each other from a distance.
Sidelong glances.
She's flat-out beautiful.
Long, black hair.
Glossy skin.
Dark eyes.
I kiss her once at a party.
Well, maybe she kisses me.
But there,
out of the corner of my eyes,
Biggie,
alone on the smoky veranda
waiting to go home.
I don't go to him straight up.
I do make him wait
a fair old while.
But I don't go on
with Briony Nevis
the way I badly want to
because I know Biggie
will be left behind... for good.
We pull in to fuel up
and use the phone.
Biggie decides
he's not calling home,
so he sits in the VW
while I reverse the charges
and get an earful.
I hang up and find Biggie
talking to a chick
with a backpack
the size of an elephant saddle.
She's tall
and not very beautiful
with long, shiny brown hair
and big knees.
She thinks
she's on the coast road north
and she's mortified
to discover otherwise.
I can see Biggie falling in love
with her moment by moment.
There isn't really
even much consultation.
We just pull out
with this chick in the back.
Meg is her name.
Meg is as thick
as a box of hammers.
It's alarming to see
how enthralled Biggie is.
And I just drive and try
to avoid the rear-view mirror.
While I'm thinking
about all of this,
Biggie's gone
and climbed over into the back
and Meg's lit up a number
and they're toking away on it
with their feet up
like I'm some kind of chauffeur.
Biggie's never had much luck
with girls.
I should be glad for him.
But I'm totally pissed off.
We come upon a maze
of salt lakes
that blaze silver and pearly
in the sun.
I begin to have
the panicky feeling
that the land and this very
afternoon might go on forever.
Biggie's really enjoying himself
back there.
I slowly understand why.
There's the obvious thing,
of course -
the fact that he's in with a big
chance with Meg come nightfall.
But something else -
the thing that eats at me -
is the way he's enjoying
being brighter than her,
being a step ahead.
Feeling somehow senior
and secure in himself.
It's me all over.
It's how I am with him.
And it's not pretty.
The kombi fills up
with smoke again.
But this time
it's bitter and metallic
and I understand we're on fire.
Without an extinguisher,
there's not much we can do,
once we're standing out there
in the litter of our belongings,
waiting for the VW to explode.
But it just smoulders
and hisses awhile
as the sun sinks behind us.
In the end,
with the smoke almost gone
and the wiring cooked,
it's obvious
we're not going anywhere.
We turn our attention
to the sunset.
Meg rolls another spliff.
We don't say anything.
The sun flattens itself against
the salt pan and disappears.
The sky goes all acid-blue
and there's
just this huge silence.
It's like the world's stopped.
Right then, I can't imagine
an end to the quiet.
The horizon fades.
Everything looks
impossibly far off.
In two hours, I'll hear Biggie
and Meg in his sleeping bag.
She'll cry out like a bird
and become so beautiful,
so desirable in the total dark
that I'll begin to cry.
In a week,
Biggie and Meg
will blow me off in Broome
and I'll be on the bus south
for a second chance
at the exams.
In a year,
Biggie will be dead in a
mining accident in the Pilbara
and I'll be reading
Robert Louis Stevenson
at his funeral.
Meg won't show.
I'll grow up
and have a family of my own
and see Briony Nevis,
Tired and lined
in a supermarket queue
and wonder
what all the fuss was about.
All of it unimaginable.
Right now, standing with Biggie
on the salt lake at sunset,
I don't care what happens
beyond this moment.
In the hot, northern dusk,
the world
suddenly gets big around us,
so big we just give in and...
...watch.
Eeniee, meenie, minie...
..moe.
Arggh!
Oh, argh.
..was not presented
by the May 31st deadline,
then more industrial action
will be taken.
Now in a bit of the macabre,
in the seaside town of Angelus,
a gruesome discovery
was made this afternoon.
Just behind the sand dunes
in Angelus' Madison Gully,
two boys playing at the site
of a new housing development
on reclaimed swampland
made the grisly discovery
of human bones.
So far, two femurs
and a skull have been recovered.
Police have
cordoned off the site
and a broad search is under way
throughout the area.
Police are yet to make
identification of the bones
but believe
they are the remains of a child.
At the third stroke,
it will be 8:22 and 20 seconds.
At the third stroke,
it will be 8:22 and 30 seconds.
Hey, look.
Hey! Wait up!
Hey, guys, look at that.
Oh, sweet!
Wicked!
Not bad!
Oh, look at this!
Think it could float?
OK!
Yes, this is perfect.
Reckon it'll float'?
- Oh, give it a crack.
- Yeah? Sweet.
Hey, help me
get around this log.
Oi, just over there
near the bushes.
Where do you think you're goin'?
What have you got there?
Tadpoles?
Stay down.
Here we go again.
I've had enough of this!
I'm getting outta here.
Come on.
Help me with this thing.
Gotta go to school.
- Oi! Where are you going?!
- School!
My husband
had a thing about this girl
with a birthmark.
It began when he was 16
and went on and on.
Like a fever
that wouldn't break.
It's a story he used to
tell against himself.
His crush on Strawberry Alison.
It was one of the things that
charmed me about him.
Eh, Vic?
See the new form-six chick?
What do you reckon? Spunk?
Yeah. Pretty good.
One, two - Pigeons!
Sucked in!
Oh, my God. What a shocker.
Oi, she's got a face
like a half-sucked Redskin.
Strawberry Alison wasn't
the only damaged specimen
to capture his imagination.
His first love was a farm girl
whose ring finger
ended at the first joint,
ripped off in a hay baler.
That was over in a night.
A teenage kiss.
Not like Alison.
Alison!
I always assumed
the whole thing
was just a mortifying memory.
Later, I started
thinking about that.
You know I've been
trying to get more poetry
into the school paper.
Yeah, but I didn't really
mean for everyone to see this.
OK.
Well, I just think it'd be great
experience for you as a writer,
baring your soul.
Well...
...you think about it, OK?
What you doing, dickhead?
OK.
Let's go.
"Incandescent.
"They say that
when you're there, you'll know.
"That when it's happening,
you'll see.
"And it'll all be right.
"But it's not that way, is it?
"You say it's not
what they think.
"You say to show them
your face...
"..to not be afraid
of the burning girl.
"It's something else
folded within itself.
"My burning girl."
Alison.
I loved your poem.
I thought...
I thought it was really great.
$0?
I think you're great.
Oh! Where do you think
you're going?
I was just gonna...
Why don't you just
leave her the fuck alone?
Time heals all wounds, right?
And a lot of time's passed.
Alright.
But then just last week,
I caught him
poring over something.
This damn box.
Crying.
Oh, he didn't want to
talk about it, he said.
So we didn't.
Hi, guys.
Hey.
- Hi.
- Hi.
You alright?
Good. Just... you know.
Watching the fire.
I'm starting uni in a few weeks.
We're driving to Perth tomorrow,
me and Roberta.
Right.
I guess I'll see you later.
I still love your poem.
I still love you for loving it.
Ali'?
Sometimes
I felt like a biographer...
...searching around for
the one, final, telling detail
at the centre
of my husband's life.
Then I think
of Strawberry Alison
and the way my husband
was drawn to her.
To the pain he thought he saw.
All very endearing
until you think of it
turned your way.
That your husband's love
might have been
another act of kindness.
As if you too might have been
some kind of damaged goods.
What were you looking at?
Uh, the... sheep ships.
They've got the smell
and everything.
- You looking forward to this?
- Mm-hm.
Yeah? Bit excited?
Bloody smell.
Here we are.
Get 'em in, eh?
Why are you doing that?
Never liked this wall.
You want to have a go?
I can't even lift it.
Just trying to get out of
a hard day's work.
Look out.
Wasn't it boring here
when you were a kid?
No.
My memory's a bit shot, mate.
I don't think there's much
I could remember
that'd impress you.
You're kidding.
Jesus wept.
Come here, for the love of God.
Lord, it's good to see you.
- G'day, Peter.
- Don.
- This must be Ricky, then.
- Oh, g'day, Ricky.
Ooh!
He's got some muscles.
You don't have to tell me
anything, Peter.
We've heard.
Oh.
This is our Sky.
Hey, Sky.
She's Fay's, of course.
Fay's... uh... not around?
She'll be back any day.
So she tells us.
Maybe you could catch up
with her.
Oh, Don. I'm not really
in a good place to...
In our mind, you're family.
We always...
We've got our Sky.
She's put us
through bloody hell.
We're grateful
for small mercies.
We need a break, mate.
Tell us you'll think about it.
Come on, sleepy sheets.
Alright. Come here.
Have a good day.
OK. Bye. Love you.
- Love you too, mate.
- OK.
Careful crossing the road.
Careful, mate.
Ricky, thank Christ.
Sorry, mate.
I am really, really sorry.
Fay.
I, um... I, um...
...slept.
Jesus. Uh, thanks.
Should have heard the row
I had with Dad
to get him to let me
pick Sky up on my own
and there she was
with your little guy.
Mate, are you gonna give Sky
one of your jackets?
She's freezing.
I am too.
There you go. Get in there.
Mum told me about your wife.
Se...
...did she tell you about me?
Uh, not really.
And look, I'm not that stable
myself, so...
I'm supposed to seek out
good people.
Alright. Don't worry about it.
I'll leave you alone, then.
Thanks again for Ricky.
Couldn't have my folks thinking
you'd left your kid
out in the rain, could we?
You're still their golden boy.
Looks like I'm trouble
around here still.
For you, at least.
Not having much luck, are we?
Come on.
You'll like this.
I swear.
Chuck your bucket down.
Lie down.
OK.
- Can you see up through there?
- Yep.
Alright.
Perfect.
Now just... just wait.
It's coming.
It's coming. Here it comes.
Come here.
Please.
You're a mess.
You owe me a cuppa.
All daylong I've had to listen
to stories about you
and all your virtues.
There's a bottle of red open
if you want to...
Jesus, Peter. You don't know
much about all this, do you?
No.
Just coffee.
Sure. Coffee.
Sorry, I just... I had to come.
There's really no-one else?
No. No. Dad drove me here.
So fucking sad.
They think I'll score otherwise.
Will you?
I'm here, aren't I?
What do you want from me, Fay?
Is a bit of adoration
too much to ask?
I just need the edge taken off.
I mean... this fucking town.
What was I thinking?
Why'd you come back?
I want my kid.
What's your excuse?
I came here for comfort
and you're uncomfortable.
You used to treat me
like a trophy.
I was your prize.
Please.
I'm aching.
Fay...
Don't do that.
Don't look down at me.
I can't drink or drive.
I'm living with my parents.
A mercy fuck
isn't going to kill you.
I can't give you anything, Fay.
You used to beg me {or it.
Jesus. This is so humiliating.
You were never really my friend.
Fay, don't do this.
Every shitty thing I ever did
got back to them.
Except for the one thing
that would make them realise
what their fucking tin god
is really like.
We were kids.
Your mum paid for it.
Then she paid me.
Jesus.
And then nothing.
What kind of a man...
What kind of a kid...
Dad'?
Ricky.
Ricky. Bed.
I've got to wee.
Come on, mate. Into bed.
I guess that's a no, then.
Hey, Mum.
Mum.
How long is this gonna take?
Two hours.
You alright?
This is bullshit.
What do you think you're doing?
What does it look like?
- No, you're fucking not.
- Hey, language!
Mum, she sacked you.
Yeah, well,
I have plenty of other clients.
Mum, you've got to stop.
This is demeaning.
Oh, and to whom is it demeaning,
Victor? Hmm? You'?
Well, I'm not helping.
Did she call the police?
Well, if she had,
we'd know about it.
'Cause she can't claim insurance
if she doesn't report it.
This doesn't make any sense.
Does she think I stole them?
Oh, no. You haven't
helped out here in months.
Well, we have to do something.
You want to do something?
Take these to the laundry.
No.
OK, Mr High-and-Mighty
Law Student,
what do you suggest I do, then?
Well, let's just
take the money and go.
And confirm I'm a thief?
Well, let's just leave, then.
No. Not cleaning would
look like an admission of guilt.
So report it yourself, then.
Can you imagine the talk?
I'd lose all my clients.
Eugh!
Mum, it's not fair.
No.
Ifs not fair.
So do your poor mother a favour,
will you?
And use a disinfectant.
Ha.
Eh?
Bit of excitement, please.
It's carelessness.
Stupid carelessness.
Worth 500 bucks, my arse.
It doesn't change anything.
But this is proof
that you're innocent.
She'll just think
that I put them back
because she found me out.
Changes nothing.
Pop 'em back in her bedroom,
will you?
Well, that's the end of
three years' service.
What about the money?
Oh, I'm worth more than that.
- Well, I'll take it, then.
- Don't you dare.
We're not taking it
on principle.
Good one, Mum.
That'll really teach her.
I'll meet you out the front.
I know this one.
No, no, wait a minute.
Wait a minute.
We're definitely past
'More Songs of Praise'.
It's either
'Further Songs of Praise'
or 'Yet More Songs of Praise'.
You got somewhere to be?
Just trying to help.
- I haven't finished.
- Alright.
You're gonna be late for school.
Bye, Mum.
Why are you following me?
I'm just going to the bus.
You know what I mean.
Did you do your maths?
- No.
- Bugger.
I thought you might have.
Hey.
Do you mind if I come along?
You've got no shoes.
I'll be alright.
Suit yourself.
Damn ugly buggers, aren't they'?
S'pose.
OW!
Ah! Fuh... f... Ow, ow, ow.
Ow.
Are you OK?
Yeah, bloody wonderful.
Only a matter of time.
Hot water, they say.
See ya.
Brakey.
Have you drowned in there?
At least you got shoes tonight.
Do you remember that old canoe,
when we were kids?
And, like, we'd all try
and pile into it?
What happened to it?
I don't know.
Where are we going?
I'm going to the
Beasley sisters'.
Do they pay alright?
The Beasley sisters?
I don't even know what
flathead's worth.
It's gotta be more than
mullet, though, right?
Jesus, Brakey.
Spare me the pity, will ya?
I don't even like fishing.
I thought things
were better over at yours.
Why? Because he doesn't
hit her anymore?
It's worse.
OK?
It's worse.
Hey.
Oh, f...
Sorry.
It doesn't matter.
- Shit.
- I said it doesn't matter.
I'll see you, Brakey.
Oh, shit.
- Mum, there's a fire.
- What?
Fire!
Please help them!
Agnes!
- Agnes!
- Agnes!
- Agnes!
- Agnes!
No. No, Brakey! No!
No, Brakey!
Don't!
Get off.
No fighting, youse two!
Hi.
Is this machine free?
Yep.
Boy, that must've hurt.
I didn't even have the guts
to get my ears pierced.
It must really hurt there.
Oh. No. No.
It's easier than getting a tatt.
My name's Sherry.
Rae.
Hi, Rae.
We're moving into
a house up the hill.
Just waiting for the kitchen
to be done.
Are you staying in White Point
for good?
Yeah. Dan's the new manager
up at the depot.
I know what you're gonna
do. Don't touch that.
Don't youse be fucking with me,
saying you need to go
when you don't.
- You need to go to the toilet?
- I need to go toilet.
- You really need to go?
- I need to go toilet.
Max'? Max!
Max! Why can't we have
a house, for fuck's sake?
With an actual toilet in it.
We wouldn't have to
walk 50 metres, like...
...to take a shit.
I need to go toilet.
Go.
This place is so calm.
You're stuck here now.
You make it sound tragic.
Max lets me do darts nights,
Tuesday at the pub.
But... nothing happens here.
You're gonna be fucking bored
outta your skull.
You should come. Darts night.
You can meet the girls.
Oh, nights are a bit tricky
for me with Dan's workload.
Stay away from that
water, 'cause there's...
But the clays are good.
Your husband works at the depot
too, doesn't he?
- Yeah.
- Whoa! There's a big one!
He's a cray fisherman.
When we first got together
he shouted us a trip to Bali.
Screwed ourselves silly
for two weeks straight.
He's got a gut now.
Ooh.
- Oh, good bullseyes.
- Oh, yeah.
Ooh.
I'll go again, Razza.
Yay.
Come on. Bullseye.
- Oh!
- Bullseye.
You must be Rae, right?
- Sherry in?
- Yeah.
Rae?
Rae! Are you OK?
Where are the girls?
They're... It's darts night.
Max has got 'em.
Oh!
You guys have been going at it,
haven't ya?
Come in. Come in for a cuppa.
- Yeah.
- No.
Nah, it wouldn't be right.
'Cause...
Oh, I'll leave youse to it,
ya root rats.
See you.
Hope youse are hungry.
Yum.
Let me have the plates.
A chicken boob?
All good, hey?
Lily. You right?
Some more'?
Pretty good, hey'?
It's good.
You like... You like your
mum's dress?
- Rae. You're early tonight.
- Yeah.
- What happened to dads?
- I'm skippin' it.
Bunch of bitches.
Deb's got a gob on her.
I'm just over it.
Would you like some gnocchi,
Rae?
- What?
- Pasta.
Oh, yeah.
- Hello.
- G'day.
So it's this.
This?
This.
The Bible'?
Yeah, I know
what the fucking thing is.
Guys younger than me,
fucking half my age,
getting promotions.
I'm still fucking...
Shit-kicking, hauling arse
all day on the fucking deck.
It's not fair, Rae.
It's not fucken...
Hey.
I'd promote ya.
Hey?
Maxy?
Have you got anything stronger?
There's a reason why
there's no booze in the house.
Oh, 'cause you're churchy,
right?
Actually, it's because
I'm an alcoholic.
White Point is kind of our
second chance.
Yeah.
Booze leaves a pretty big hole.
We're just here,
finding our way.
- Ooh, look.
- Do you like that?
- Fairy dust.
- Ooh!
This is like a snake.
Come and have
a look at these ones.
- Showbags?
- Yeah, we'll find them.
I know where they are.
You know where they are?
Did you see them already?
They're up there, I think.
- Check it out.
- Oh.
You saw it already?
Holy hardware,
not really my thing.
Aww! Have a quick squiz.
Look at them all.
Do you want to go
and get the show bags, girls?
- Yeah!
- Yes?
We'll go get the show bags.
Let's go over here.
Come on.
Hold my hand.
Look. Check it out.
Instead of snow,
it's got little doves.
Look at this sixpack!
Jesus is ripped.
Alright?
What was it like?
This...
"born-again business?
Well...
It's about getting into...
No, no, I don't...
I don't mean what it's about-
I mean...
...What did it feel like?
The moment you suddenly got it.
The change, you know?
The moment you turned
or whatever you guys call it.
It was like a hot knife
going into me.
Like I was butter.
And this knife was
opening me up...
...and suddenly I could see all
this possibility in the world.
And then something more
than that. There...
There was hope and beauty
where...
...all I'd felt before
was hollow.
Sounds sexy.
Yeah, it was.
Yeah.
Lily.
There's Daddy.
Girls, get in the van.
Get in the van.
Who is it?
What'?
Fucking darts nights for weeks!
Who the fuck is he? Tell me!
He's bigger than you, Max.
So be careful.
You don't know him,
but he owns you.
He'll open you up
like a knife in butter.
Is that right? You tell me
his fucking name, ya slut!
Hi, girls.
Where the fuck do you think
you're going?!
Where you gonna go, eh?
Who the fuck is gonna have you?
Where the...
...fuck are you going?
You're mine.
"When an archer
is shooting for nothing,
"he has all his skill.
"If he shoots
for a brass buckle,
"he is already nervous.
"If he shoots
for a prize of gold,
"he goes blind
and sees two targets.
"He is out of his mind.
"His skill has not changed,
but the prize divides him.
"He cares.
"He thinks more of winning
than of shooting.
"And the need to win
drains him of power."
Prelim final,
the Swans lead by 18 points
early over the Hawks.
Here's the jack-in-the-box,
what a young player he is.
Frank Leaper,
second season player.
Hawthorn score
a really important goal.
They're back within 12 points
in this prelim final.
Leaper on the burst here,
looking for a pass out wide.
Leaper picks it up,
tries to get rid of it.
Does so. Well played.
Leaper still trying to encourage
himself and make a difference.
Oh, that's high! That is high!
Sydney are gonna get
a free kick.
Leaper's gonna have the chance
to put Sydney through
to the grand final.
Hawthorn fans cannot believe it.
There's no more play after this.
Leaper has the opportunity to do
what every young footballer...
...I can't believe it.
He's dropped the ball.
Frank Leaper has put
the ball on the ground
and the match
is effectively over.
It'll be Hawthorn into
the grand final.
Words can't describe it.
Sydney's future, we know,
in the short-term, is finished.
Sports fans are dismayed...
So what the fuck happened?
Couldn't do it anymore.
You mean you wouldn't do it.
That's what it looked like.
Watching, were ya?
Christ, you idiot,
that's my team.
Of course I was watching.
The whole family was watching,
tearing our fucking hair out.
You know, I'm the one
that has to live out here.
Yeah, but you hated it
when I was good.
You stupid little bastard.
People dreamed
of having what you had.
Oh, you mean you?
You're a fucking pussy.
Grab your board!
Let's go! Come on! Let's go!
One, two, three.
During moments of stillness,
Vic often felt he could see the
particles an object was made of
start to move.
As if he could slip his hand
through anything.
He was in the habit of
snapping his teeth
every time
they drove under a streetlight.
Salvation belongs to
our God, who sits on the throne,
and to the Lamb.
All the angels
were standing around the throne
and around the elders
and the four living creatures.
He liked to count
how many people caught his eye.
After this, I saw four angels
standing in the four corners
of the earth,
holding back
the four winds of the earth...
He imagined God as a newscaster
in front of a background
of stars,
preaching godly announcements
in a pristine blue suit
with utmost friendliness.
Amen.
Good evening, everyone.
He thought about how
much he would miss eating meat
in the paradise,
as everything
would be vegetarian.
This is God Almighty.
Welcome to the 7:30 news.
Oh, don't forget
you've got soccer practice
at 4:00pm this week, Vic.
Mr Davidson sent a notice around
saying that the Tigers
are sharing the oval...
Can you do that before
Aunty Mary arrives on Thursday
'cause I told her
that if there's space,
she can put some of her...
Occasionally,
when it's really dark at night,
Vic has to make sure
he hasn't gone blind.
He likes to wash his hands
and be out of the bathroom
by the time the flush finishes.
He loves a girl
who's out of his reach.
He wished he were invisible
again.
He practised
not looking over his shoulder...
...when he got the urge.
It doesn't happen often,
but there are times when
he gets the house to himself.
The rifle calms him down.
A bit early for a beer,
isn't it?
It's half past.
I thought she said 12:00pm.
You alright?
Mmm.
These crackers are pretty good.
Executive crackers.
Which I think it means you get
a better toy thing -
you know, the little toy things
they've got inside 'em'?
Oh, it's not like her
to be late.
Don't ruin your appetite.
A bit early for a beer,
isn't it?
I've had a little glass.
Fair enough.
She won't mind us drinking,
will she?
No.
Yep. It's Christmas.
You wouldn't know it, though.
It's so quiet.
I feel sorry for your mum,
you know.
I mean... it's just not much
of a Christmas, is it'?
No kids.
She's alright.
She loves ya.
Yeah.
Merry Christmas, Mum.
Very quiet.
Yeah. It's a bit hot
in here. Sorry.
You should get
an air conditioner.
Here.
That's for you. Merry Christmas.
Merry Christmas.
Come in.
Lunch is almost on the table.
They've asked us over
at Ernie and Cleds.
- What?
- This arvo.
I haven't seen them for years.
- Hi, Gail.
- Hi, Carol.
It's for you. It's a tin of tea.
Oh, Merry Christmas.
Oh!
What, are you actually
going to go?
I don't see why not.
I think you have to give people
the benefit of the doubt.
Jeez.
I don't believe it.
Will you come with me?
You've never met them,
have you, Gail?
Your uncle Ernie'?
Just for an hour.
Yeah, fine. Just for an hour.
Are you sure this is it, Mum?
This is the address
they gave me.
I just don't recognise anything.
Well, you haven't seen them
since you were at the uni.
We'll look around the back.
Might be in the pool.
You don't even know
if they've got a pool.
What are the chances of a place
like this not having a pool?
Imagine cleaning it.
What? The pool?
The house, Gail.
Oh, so... yes.
Hello?
Hello?
Ifs quiet.
It's too damn quiet.
Yoo-hoo!
it's the Marie Celeste.
Ifs rude, that's what it is.
Jesus!
My sainted aunt!
Not in this family!
It's lovely in!
What if this isn't even
the right place?
It better be.
I'm going to check.
Just wait there.
Oh, bloody hell.
Hey!
- What is it, love'?
- It's not them. Get out.
Oh, God.
I've lost my other shoe.
I'm going to lose my job.
Oh, dear.
Wrong house, Mum.
- But I wrote it down!
- Oh, shit!
Is that champagne?
Pour me a glass!
What'?
What, you don't think
I've got an excuse?
Just this once'?
Oh, come on.
Give your mother a drink.
I lost a shoe over this.
Oh, look.
I wrote '75'
and read the 5 as an 8.
My handwriting's not good
and my eyesight's worse!
Oh!
Don't worry about it, Carol.
For what it's worth,
I enjoyed it.
Imagine if they'd've
sprung us in their pool.
They'll find the shoe.
I mean, that is
breaking and entering.
Well...
Happy Christmas.
- I'm serious, Mum.
- Oh.
Well, I don't know about
anyone else,
but it's the most fun
I've ever had at Christmas.
I felt like I was 10 years old.
Got that
kind of naughty feeling.
Oh, yeah.
Be quiet, Vic. Let her talk.
When I was little,
we weren't even allow to say
"Merry Christmas"
because it condoned drunkenness.
It was "Happy Christmas"
or it was the doghouse.
Oh, I'm sorry, Carol.
I wasn't thinking.
Sorry.
What, because Bob
was an alcoholic?
You're too careful.
Why... how did you know
it wasn't Ernie's house?
Photos.
Oh, no red hair,
no freckles, no ugly cousins.
No wobbegongs.
Hang on. That's our gene pool.
Don't even say the word 'pool'.
Well, they're nothing alike,
Bob and Ernie.
Pardon me.
Bob was everything Ernie wasn't.
He cleaned up every mess
Ernie ever made.
No thanks, no recognition.
And when Bob needed help,
nothing.
No... nothing.
Just a howl of disappointment.
Disapproval.
Yeah.
No, no. I've heard the stories.
Family's not a word,
it's a sentence.
Mmm!
Rubbish. It's a challenge.
No! It's an adventure.
I think I'd like another glass,
Gail.
Come on.
We'll take the bottle outside.
- Mum...
- We can drink it there.
Oh, come on.
Oh, Vic!
It's Christmas!
Anyway,
I think I'm a little bit tipsy.
Whoops.
- Go on. There you go.
- Oh.
Ooh!
Thanks, Gail.
Vic!
You coming out?
No, I'm good.
Yes, he is. He's a good man.
Like his father.
There. See there?
That's where Santa Claus lives.
Is it'?
My mother was a drunk.
She lived on peanuts and gin.
Whenever I wanted
her to hug me...
I dragged her out of pubs
after school, every day.
Whenever I want her to hug me,
she'd crack open a peanut
and she'd say, "Look, Carol.
That's where Santa Claus lives."
Don't give her
any more to drink.
Well, excuse us, Constable!
Oh, let's get him
with a peanut. Go on.
Oh!
- Right.
- Well done, Gail.
- Hey?
- Now it's on.
Oh, yeah. Now it's on.
It's a peg fight.
Peg and peanuts.
Now it's serious.
Hit him with the peanut.
This time, it's serious.
Pretty good.
Come on, Victor.
You're the target.
Yeah, don't start something
you can't finish.
Is it your mother?
Yes.
You'll need a cup of tea.
How long have you
lived like this?
Sober? 15 years.
Look, it'll be too dangerous
trying to drive back to the city
in the dark.
Can you wait till morning?
You're welcome to stay here.
How do you live?
I get the pension.
I look after things for people,
keep them for them.
What sort of things?
Money, gold.
There's a few people here
and there still prospecting.
And often as not, they're just
going off their rockers and...
...drinking too much.
They don't trust each other,
they don't trust themselves
and they leave their stuff
with me.
Why you?
Because I don't drink.
Because I'm trustworthy.
I have to see some people
before I leave.
In case there's any
misunderstanding.
Do you want me to drive you?
Well, it would be quicker.
Yeah, just pull up here.
Yep.
I won't be long.
Did you hear about
the royal commission?
Somebody said it was on.
You're not curious?
It was a long time ago.
Shame to get this car dirty.
I hear you're a lawyer now.
Yeah.
What kind'?
Industrial relations.
On whose side?
The little bloke.
Oh, that's good.
That's good. You've gotta
look after the little bloke.
Yeah, well, that's the theory.
And your mother, is she...
...sick?
- Yeah.
- How sick?
She's dying.
Well, it hasn't all
been for nothing, then.
What hasn't?
Sobering up.
I couldn't have gone drunk.
I don't think she really cares
about that anymore.
Well, I wouldn't have.
I wouldn't have gone drunk.
- That's irrelevant.
- I wouldn't have gone.
It's not irrelevant to me.
Well, Jesus, you've been sober
for 15 years,
any way it turns out.
Waiting every day.
Have you ever written to her?
- Not since I've been straight.
- Why not?
Shame, I suppose.
- I didn't want to get...
- She's married to you!
So I believe.
It's good that you're sober.
I'm sorry.
I wish I could undo it all.
What the hell was it, Dad?
I lost my way.
Yeah, well, we've come across
that, haven't we?
You lost your way and we...
we all got lost with you.
You never said.
You never told us.
And the job?
Was it something you did?
Is that what you think?
You think that I'm sitting here
waiting to be named
in that inquiry?
Well, I've...
I've wondered, Dad.
I'm really sorry about that.
I saw things.
Well, I don't know.
I half saw things.
Things I didn't really
understand at the time.
I don't even really understand
them now. It's just...
It was the surprise of it.
Knowing that
I was on the outside.
As soon as I smelt that
there was something crook,
I knew there was
no-one safe to tell.
Nobody at all'?
No, I thought I was going nuts.
But then there was
this little kid.
He was a small-time petty crim.
He had his legs broken
out on Thunder Beach.
Yeah, he got... he hopped into
a car with detectives...
Yeah, that's the one.
Those two demons
come down from the city.
I don't know what it was about.
Drugs, I s'pose.
I never really understood it.
It was just that
he'd fallen foul of them
and any question about it,
any witness account
died on the vine.
It didn't matter who it came to.
It felt like
whatever was going on,
I was the only bloke
not in on it.
So who do you talk to?
Who do you trust?
I know it ate me alive.
I should have quit.
But I didn't even have the guts
to do that.
It would have saved us all
a lot of pain.
I just hung on in there until
there was nothing left of me.
There was nothing left
of any of us.
It was cowardice.
It's not natural.
You learn it.
So, how did you
get off the booze?
I went to a meeting
in Kalgoorlie.
Just the one?
Yeah. Only the one.
I'd had enough of self-pity.
30...?
I was living
behind the pub then.
Called myself a yardman,
but basically I was an alcoholic
sweeping floors for drinks.
Then I came up here
with the dog and I hid.
I think I was trying to work up
the nerve to kill myself.
There's plenty of mineshafts
up here.
No shortage of means.
I spent months
plotting and planning.
I went mad, I s'pose.
And then I realised I'd been
six months without a drink.
I woke up one morning.
It was winter.
The sun was on this fallen tree,
this dead, grey tree,
and there was steam
rising off the dead wood...
...and I felt new.
I had this feeling that
the world was inviting me in
and luring me towards...
...something.
I dunno. Life, I s'pose.
I see you read a lot.
Yep.
It's an education.
But my eyes are going.
We'll get you some glasses.
What time do you want to leave?
Uh, first thing.
Fair enough.
You got it?
You'll take it.
And you'll keep
your fucking mouth shut.
Say g'day to Vic for me.
Ultimo
1 radio - you have a job for us?
Listen up, everyone.
There's been a report
of a missing hiker.
Last seen
on the western track here.
By the sounds of it,
he's been caught in a fog
and wandered off the path
somewhere.
He's missing two days now,
so he's either fallen off
the first tier,
or broken something
along the way.
If he's alive,
we'll need to find him by dark.
It's getting bloody cold
up there.
So we need to move fast.
Right. Stick to your groups.
Let's get going.
Uh, Bill, you lead the group
along the western track
and keep everyone close.
We don't wanna lose any more
of you, for God's sake.
Lang. You'll be taking
a back seat on this one.
Join Bill's group or something.
There's a reporter
looking for you somewhere.
Just talk her
through the process
and make us sound good, alright?
- Me?
- Yes, you.
Fuck knows why,
but she wants to speak with you.
Is there a problem, Sergeant?
No. No problem.
Good. 'Cause we don't want
any more trouble now, do we?
Constable Lang?
Um... excuse me?
Constable Lang?
Sergeant Lang.
Oh. Sorry, Sergeant.
Um... I was told you were
someone who could help me.
My name's Marie.
You're the journalist?
Mmm, no - I'm a cadet, actually,
but I was hoping
I could ask you a few questions.
Won't hold you up. Promise.
Can ask 'em as we walk.
Oh. Well, come on, then.
Can you explain why
we've left the group?
In my opinion,
he's landed on the eastern side
of the mountain.
He's fallen into that area
up ahead.
So, have you worked in
this area long'?
About six months.
Oh.
How do you like it here so far?
Looks like
the weather's coming in.
I can't see the track anymore.
Or hear anyone.
Maybe we should just go back.
If you go back the way we came,
you should find the track.
It's getting dark.
I can't go alone.
Fair enough.
Hello?!
Constable Lang!
Marie'?
Hello!
- Help!
- Hey!
I'm over here!
Marie!
- Is he alive?
- Just.
What are we gonna do?
It looks like we're gonna
be in for a long night.
Fuck, I just feel so helpless.
First day
I was posted out here...
...got called up on this...
this accident.
This young farm kid...
...was doing tricks...
...on his trail bike.
He pulled out from behind the
bus on to the oncoming car.
Just cleaned him up.
I just sat there.
Waited with him
till the ambulance came.
All his schoolmates
just staring at me
like there was something
I could actually do.
He died in my arms.
Oh... God, I'm sorry.
I thought I was tougher
than this.
Sometimes there's just
nothing you can do.
Do you like your work?
What'?
Guys you work with? Good guys?
Yeah.
The two detectives
found his father on the bed.
He'd been dead for 10 days.
Some say that he put a pillow
over his dad's head...
...and suffocated him.
But that's just
what they told me.
Mum and Dad told me about
an oldish man called Boner.
He lived by the river
in a beat-up caravan
and his girlfriend had left him
and he'd shot himself underneath
the chin but he survived that.
He had half of his face
blown off
and he had a big hole
in his neck,
where his... around
where his voice box was.
So every time he spoke,
he had to put his finger
into his mouth,
into his neck,
and that... just so he could...
was able to speak.
It was, like...
something like that.
I reckon it must've been
early high school
and Boner was older than me.
He wasn't really a mate.
I didn't have any mates
in those days.
A mate was probably just someone
who was a bit less of
an arsehole than an enemy.
And people used to
just treat me like shit.
They used to call me
fucking 'Flathead'
and there was
these two older cunts
that used to just belt the fuck
out of me every lesson.
They thought it just was
good fun.
Anyway, one day Boner
must've fucking heard about it
and I was down in A-wing,
down this long bloody corridor.
I looked up and I saw these two
bastards coming and...
...and Boner was standing
behind them
and he was kneeing them in the
backside as they walked along
and whacking them
in the back of the head
and he was saying to 'em,
"You fucking leave him alone.
"You leave him alone."
And he got to
the end of the corridor
and then he just fucking
belted the shit out of them
and he was saying,
"Leave the... leave him alone,
you fucking dogs."
And no-one knew... no-one except
me knew why he was doing it.
And he was standing up for me
and yet...
he hardly knew me, really,
and that was the first time
anyone had ever really
stood up for me.
Yeah, well,
Boner was driving along one day
and he had
a whole heap of garbage
on the front of his car,
on the dash,
and they fell off and he looked
down to see what was going on.
And there was a police car
coming the other way.
And he wandered across the road
and pushed the police car
off the road.
Got down the road a bit,
looked in the mirror
and the police are chasing him.
So he pulled up.
The police said to him,
"You just run us off the road."
.
He said, "Well, that's pretty
obvious you didn't see us."
He said,
"You run us off the road."
He said, "We had to go
out in the paddock there."
He said, "Look at the car.
"It's covered in grass and dirt
and mud.
"What were you doing?"
"Oh," he said, "what happened
is... I'm a snake catcher.
"I had a snake in a bag there."
And he said, "And he got out and
he was crawling over my legs."
He said, "I bent down
to pick him up
"and when I bent down, I must've
wandered across the road."
They said, "Where's the snake?"
He said, "In the car. Do you
want to help me catch it?"
He said to the police.
They said, "Nah, you're right,
mate. Just go on your way."
That's what...
He was a wild man.
I heard a bit about him
but he was always in trouble.
He was always in trouble
with the police.
He used to go to school and
he got the cuts that many times,
his hands and everything,
that he decided that he wasn't
going to get it anymore
so he didn't do anything
to the teacher
but he just said,
"If you're gonna give me
the strap again,"
"you'll get the knife,"
you know?
That was about it.
He was always in... when
were in school, he was always...
You know, he'd be the one
that's there...
...baring his behind to the girls
in the back.
He'd bend over and...
Well, he got expelled for that,
so that was the end of him.
I... I wasn't
one of his molls.
But, um, I remember
how just going for one ride
in his panel van
would set you up
with a reputation
for the rest of your life.
You didn't even really have
to do anything with him,
just be seen in his car.
So, one day when
I had to go the shops,
I heard his car coming along
and, um, started swinging
my hips a little bit more.
And he pulled up.
And he only asked me where
Jackie was, for God's sake,
and I just said,
"Oh, I don't Know where she is."
And I kept him talking
for a little while.
A couple of...
Susie and Rachel
went past in a car.
I leant right in the car
and sort of bent down
and touched the gearstick
and made out that,
you know, I was inside the car,
giving him a kiss.
And then when they went past, he
sort of drove off not long after
and I told people that...
that I'd fucked him,
that I actually had sex
with him that day.
And I didn't.
Like, he didn't even touch me.
The inside of the house
was just... torn to pieces,
they told me.
Like someone had gone
through it in a fit of rage.
They said they found drugs
at the house.
Lots of ammo.
And on the walls there was
this weird pornography
and he got a cigarette
and burnt where their cunts
were...
...and their breasts.
He was naked
when they found him.
They said he was just crazy.
He wasn't making
any sense at all.
He had these shark jewels
around his neck.
His face was badly cut.
No-one knew
what he'd done to himself.
When the cops got there...
...he just kept mumbling
over and over again.
"You see that tree'?
"See that tree? That's my
mother's screamin' neck.
"You can hang me from that tree.
I don't give a fuck.
"You can hang me. I don't care."
That's just what I've heard.
"I'm fucking Boner
and don't you forget it."
God.
- Hi.
- Hi.
Where did you get that?
He thinks he's Clint Eastwood.
- Hey. Merry Christmas.
- Give us a hug.
- Hi, mate.
- Happy Christmas.
- Hi, Fenn.
- Mwah. Good to see you again.
Hey. Happy Christmas.
You too.
- Sorry we're late.
- No, you're just in time.
Just cracked open one of Peon's
new cab merlots.
It'll change your life.
It's so good to see you.
Oh, you too!
What's this?
I found it.
Back of Dads shed.
I never hit any of 'em
but, Christ, it's fun trying.
You're a good country boy.
You a shooter?
- Nah.
- Have a go.
Nah.
Rightio.
- Is that the ocean?
- Yeah.
Moving down here was
the best thing we ever did.
You grew up down here,
didn't you?
- Yeah, about 20 minutes inland.
- Get down much?
Nah. Not really.
You right?
Yeah, good.
Really?
'Cause you look like shit.
What are you doing?
Just thought I saw the old man.
Turns out I'm just getting old.
Jesus, you're 38, Vic.
Yeah.
So you're just never going
to talk about it?
What do you want me to say?
It's just so much good shit.
No, it's just because you want
to play with them. That's all.
Well, yeah. We didn't have any
of that stuff when I was a kid.
It was just Matchbox cars.
Oh, God, I wish
I had Matchbox cars.
I only had the Book
of Lamentations and... socks.
That's slightly cheaper
than what he's going for.
Well, at least I've got a wife
and Australia's largest
mining company to prop me up.
How is that going?
You should've seen it.
This boardroom was just filled
with Texans wearing cowboy hats.
- No.
- I fuck you not.
Giant bucket hats
with string ties.
Just throwing around their cash.
See, that's where
you need to head.
There's no shit fights
in the mining industry.
How's the nurses' strike
going, Vic?
Yeah, we're getting there.
Really?
it's more of a statement,
though, isn't it?
We'll see, I guess.
Vic Lang.
Man of action.
The defender of the people.
Gail.
You know, I did used to shoot
when I was a kid.
When I was about 14,
before my dad left.
We had this old Savage.
When he'd go off to work
and my mum would take my sister
up the shops, I'd pull it out.
Sit by the window.
I'd, uh... look down the sights.
People walking down the street.
I'd aim it at them. I'd...
...load and cock it
and I'd aim it at people
walking down the street.
That's what you wanted
to tell me now?
Another little childhood
anecdote.
You're always bloody doing
the dishes.
Leave them.
I'll do them in the morning.
Nah, it's alright.
I'll do 'em... I'll do 'em now.
They know, don't they?
Was it Fenn?
I thought you said
you didn't want to know.
Was it?
What difference does it make?
Do it.
Do anything.
Being with you makes me feel
so lonely.
Pull.
Pull.
Pull.
Pull.
Bloody hell.
You ready, Emmy?
Yeah.
Ready...
...steady...
Pull.
Although I do not hope
to turn again.
Although I do not hope.
Although I do not hope to turn.
to turn again.
Because I do not hope.
Because I do not hope to turn.
I left them Misting,
turning below.
There were no more faces
and the stair was dark,
damp, jagged,
like an old man's mouth
dribbling, beyond repair.
Or the toothed gullet
of an aged shark.
Desiring this man's gift
and that man's scope,
I no longer strive
to strive towards such things.
Because I know
that time is always time.
And place
is always and only place.
And pray that I may forget
these matters
that with myself,
I too much discuss,
too much explain.
Because these wings
are no longer wings to fly
but merely fans
to beat the air -
the air which is now thoroughly
small and dry,
smaller and drier than the will.
Teach us to care
and not to care.
Teach us to sit still.
Although I do not hope
to turn again.
Although I do not hope.
Although I do not hope to turn.
After five years of high school,
the final November arrives
and leaves
as suddenly as a spring storm.
Exams, graduation,
huge beach parties.
Biggie and me, we're feverish
with anticipation.
We steel ourselves
for a season of pandemonium.
But after
the initial celebrations,
nothing really happens.
Somehow our crappy
Saturday job at the meatworks
becomes full-time.
And then Christmas comes and
so do the dreaded exam results.
The news is not good.
A few of our classmates
pack their bags for university
and shoot through,
and suddenly there we are -
Biggie and me,
heading to work
every morning in the frigid wind
in the January of our new lives.
Some days I can see me and
Biggie out there as old codgers,
anchored to the friggin' place.
Beside me, Biggie's face
gets darker and darker.
When the shift horn sounds,
he lurches away,
his last canon half-empty.
"Fuck it," he says.
"We're outta here."
That afternoon, we buy a kombi
from a hippie on the wharf.
We fill the ancient VW
with tinned food
and all our camping junk
and rack off
without telling a soul.
I can't believe we've done it.
The plan is to call
from somewhere
the other side of the city,
when we're out of reach.
I want to be safe
from the guilts.
The old girl
will crack a sad on me.
But Biggie
has bigger things to fear.
His old man will beat the shit
out of him when he finds out.
I can't tell Biggie this,
but missing out on uni
really stings.
When the results came,
I cried my eyes out.
I thought about killing myself.
Biggie's results
were even worse than mine.
He'd really fried.
But he didn't have his heart
set on doing well.
He couldn't give a rat's ring.
In his head,
he's always seen himself
at the meatworks or the cannery,
until he inherits
a salmon netting license
from his old man.
He's content.
He belongs.
Biggie's not
the brightest crayon in the box
but he's the most loyal person
I know.
He's the real deal.
We didn't meet until
the second week of high school.
I was new in town
and right from the start,
a kid called Tony Macoli
became fixated on me.
That's how it started -
a single
decisive act of violence
that joined me to Biggie
forever.
If you believe him
on the subject,
he acted more out of
animal irritation than charity.
But I felt like somebody
ransomed and set free.
Biggie became my mate,
my constant companion.
Friendship, I suppose,
comes at a price.
There have been girls
I've disqualified myself from
because of Biggie.
Not everyone wants to have him
tagging along everywhere.
Right through high school,
I had occasional moments,
evenings, encounters with girls,
but no real girlfriend,
and mostly I don't regret it.
Except for Briony Nevis.
For two years,
we're sort of watching
each other from a distance.
Sidelong glances.
She's flat-out beautiful.
Long, black hair.
Glossy skin.
Dark eyes.
I kiss her once at a party.
Well, maybe she kisses me.
But there,
out of the corner of my eyes,
Biggie,
alone on the smoky veranda
waiting to go home.
I don't go to him straight up.
I do make him wait
a fair old while.
But I don't go on
with Briony Nevis
the way I badly want to
because I know Biggie
will be left behind... for good.
We pull in to fuel up
and use the phone.
Biggie decides
he's not calling home,
so he sits in the VW
while I reverse the charges
and get an earful.
I hang up and find Biggie
talking to a chick
with a backpack
the size of an elephant saddle.
She's tall
and not very beautiful
with long, shiny brown hair
and big knees.
She thinks
she's on the coast road north
and she's mortified
to discover otherwise.
I can see Biggie falling in love
with her moment by moment.
There isn't really
even much consultation.
We just pull out
with this chick in the back.
Meg is her name.
Meg is as thick
as a box of hammers.
It's alarming to see
how enthralled Biggie is.
And I just drive and try
to avoid the rear-view mirror.
While I'm thinking
about all of this,
Biggie's gone
and climbed over into the back
and Meg's lit up a number
and they're toking away on it
with their feet up
like I'm some kind of chauffeur.
Biggie's never had much luck
with girls.
I should be glad for him.
But I'm totally pissed off.
We come upon a maze
of salt lakes
that blaze silver and pearly
in the sun.
I begin to have
the panicky feeling
that the land and this very
afternoon might go on forever.
Biggie's really enjoying himself
back there.
I slowly understand why.
There's the obvious thing,
of course -
the fact that he's in with a big
chance with Meg come nightfall.
But something else -
the thing that eats at me -
is the way he's enjoying
being brighter than her,
being a step ahead.
Feeling somehow senior
and secure in himself.
It's me all over.
It's how I am with him.
And it's not pretty.
The kombi fills up
with smoke again.
But this time
it's bitter and metallic
and I understand we're on fire.
Without an extinguisher,
there's not much we can do,
once we're standing out there
in the litter of our belongings,
waiting for the VW to explode.
But it just smoulders
and hisses awhile
as the sun sinks behind us.
In the end,
with the smoke almost gone
and the wiring cooked,
it's obvious
we're not going anywhere.
We turn our attention
to the sunset.
Meg rolls another spliff.
We don't say anything.
The sun flattens itself against
the salt pan and disappears.
The sky goes all acid-blue
and there's
just this huge silence.
It's like the world's stopped.
Right then, I can't imagine
an end to the quiet.
The horizon fades.
Everything looks
impossibly far off.
In two hours, I'll hear Biggie
and Meg in his sleeping bag.
She'll cry out like a bird
and become so beautiful,
so desirable in the total dark
that I'll begin to cry.
In a week,
Biggie and Meg
will blow me off in Broome
and I'll be on the bus south
for a second chance
at the exams.
In a year,
Biggie will be dead in a
mining accident in the Pilbara
and I'll be reading
Robert Louis Stevenson
at his funeral.
Meg won't show.
I'll grow up
and have a family of my own
and see Briony Nevis,
Tired and lined
in a supermarket queue
and wonder
what all the fuss was about.
All of it unimaginable.
Right now, standing with Biggie
on the salt lake at sunset,
I don't care what happens
beyond this moment.
In the hot, northern dusk,
the world
suddenly gets big around us,
so big we just give in and...
...watch.
Eeniee, meenie, minie...
..moe.
Arggh!
Oh, argh.
..was not presented
by the May 31st deadline,
then more industrial action
will be taken.
Now in a bit of the macabre,
in the seaside town of Angelus,
a gruesome discovery
was made this afternoon.
Just behind the sand dunes
in Angelus' Madison Gully,
two boys playing at the site
of a new housing development
on reclaimed swampland
made the grisly discovery
of human bones.
So far, two femurs
and a skull have been recovered.
Police have
cordoned off the site
and a broad search is under way
throughout the area.
Police are yet to make
identification of the bones
but believe
they are the remains of a child.
At the third stroke,
it will be 8:22 and 20 seconds.
At the third stroke,
it will be 8:22 and 30 seconds.
Hey, look.
Hey! Wait up!
Hey, guys, look at that.
Oh, sweet!
Wicked!
Not bad!
Oh, look at this!
Think it could float?
OK!
Yes, this is perfect.
Reckon it'll float'?
- Oh, give it a crack.
- Yeah? Sweet.
Hey, help me
get around this log.
Oi, just over there
near the bushes.
Where do you think you're goin'?
What have you got there?
Tadpoles?
Stay down.
Here we go again.
I've had enough of this!
I'm getting outta here.
Come on.
Help me with this thing.
Gotta go to school.
- Oi! Where are you going?!
- School!
My husband
had a thing about this girl
with a birthmark.
It began when he was 16
and went on and on.
Like a fever
that wouldn't break.
It's a story he used to
tell against himself.
His crush on Strawberry Alison.
It was one of the things that
charmed me about him.
Eh, Vic?
See the new form-six chick?
What do you reckon? Spunk?
Yeah. Pretty good.
One, two - Pigeons!
Sucked in!
Oh, my God. What a shocker.
Oi, she's got a face
like a half-sucked Redskin.
Strawberry Alison wasn't
the only damaged specimen
to capture his imagination.
His first love was a farm girl
whose ring finger
ended at the first joint,
ripped off in a hay baler.
That was over in a night.
A teenage kiss.
Not like Alison.
Alison!
I always assumed
the whole thing
was just a mortifying memory.
Later, I started
thinking about that.
You know I've been
trying to get more poetry
into the school paper.
Yeah, but I didn't really
mean for everyone to see this.
OK.
Well, I just think it'd be great
experience for you as a writer,
baring your soul.
Well...
...you think about it, OK?
What you doing, dickhead?
OK.
Let's go.
"Incandescent.
"They say that
when you're there, you'll know.
"That when it's happening,
you'll see.
"And it'll all be right.
"But it's not that way, is it?
"You say it's not
what they think.
"You say to show them
your face...
"..to not be afraid
of the burning girl.
"It's something else
folded within itself.
"My burning girl."
Alison.
I loved your poem.
I thought...
I thought it was really great.
$0?
I think you're great.
Oh! Where do you think
you're going?
I was just gonna...
Why don't you just
leave her the fuck alone?
Time heals all wounds, right?
And a lot of time's passed.
Alright.
But then just last week,
I caught him
poring over something.
This damn box.
Crying.
Oh, he didn't want to
talk about it, he said.
So we didn't.
Hi, guys.
Hey.
- Hi.
- Hi.
You alright?
Good. Just... you know.
Watching the fire.
I'm starting uni in a few weeks.
We're driving to Perth tomorrow,
me and Roberta.
Right.
I guess I'll see you later.
I still love your poem.
I still love you for loving it.
Ali'?
Sometimes
I felt like a biographer...
...searching around for
the one, final, telling detail
at the centre
of my husband's life.
Then I think
of Strawberry Alison
and the way my husband
was drawn to her.
To the pain he thought he saw.
All very endearing
until you think of it
turned your way.
That your husband's love
might have been
another act of kindness.
As if you too might have been
some kind of damaged goods.
What were you looking at?
Uh, the... sheep ships.
They've got the smell
and everything.
- You looking forward to this?
- Mm-hm.
Yeah? Bit excited?
Bloody smell.
Here we are.
Get 'em in, eh?
Why are you doing that?
Never liked this wall.
You want to have a go?
I can't even lift it.
Just trying to get out of
a hard day's work.
Look out.
Wasn't it boring here
when you were a kid?
No.
My memory's a bit shot, mate.
I don't think there's much
I could remember
that'd impress you.
You're kidding.
Jesus wept.
Come here, for the love of God.
Lord, it's good to see you.
- G'day, Peter.
- Don.
- This must be Ricky, then.
- Oh, g'day, Ricky.
Ooh!
He's got some muscles.
You don't have to tell me
anything, Peter.
We've heard.
Oh.
This is our Sky.
Hey, Sky.
She's Fay's, of course.
Fay's... uh... not around?
She'll be back any day.
So she tells us.
Maybe you could catch up
with her.
Oh, Don. I'm not really
in a good place to...
In our mind, you're family.
We always...
We've got our Sky.
She's put us
through bloody hell.
We're grateful
for small mercies.
We need a break, mate.
Tell us you'll think about it.
Come on, sleepy sheets.
Alright. Come here.
Have a good day.
OK. Bye. Love you.
- Love you too, mate.
- OK.
Careful crossing the road.
Careful, mate.
Ricky, thank Christ.
Sorry, mate.
I am really, really sorry.
Fay.
I, um... I, um...
...slept.
Jesus. Uh, thanks.
Should have heard the row
I had with Dad
to get him to let me
pick Sky up on my own
and there she was
with your little guy.
Mate, are you gonna give Sky
one of your jackets?
She's freezing.
I am too.
There you go. Get in there.
Mum told me about your wife.
Se...
...did she tell you about me?
Uh, not really.
And look, I'm not that stable
myself, so...
I'm supposed to seek out
good people.
Alright. Don't worry about it.
I'll leave you alone, then.
Thanks again for Ricky.
Couldn't have my folks thinking
you'd left your kid
out in the rain, could we?
You're still their golden boy.
Looks like I'm trouble
around here still.
For you, at least.
Not having much luck, are we?
Come on.
You'll like this.
I swear.
Chuck your bucket down.
Lie down.
OK.
- Can you see up through there?
- Yep.
Alright.
Perfect.
Now just... just wait.
It's coming.
It's coming. Here it comes.
Come here.
Please.
You're a mess.
You owe me a cuppa.
All daylong I've had to listen
to stories about you
and all your virtues.
There's a bottle of red open
if you want to...
Jesus, Peter. You don't know
much about all this, do you?
No.
Just coffee.
Sure. Coffee.
Sorry, I just... I had to come.
There's really no-one else?
No. No. Dad drove me here.
So fucking sad.
They think I'll score otherwise.
Will you?
I'm here, aren't I?
What do you want from me, Fay?
Is a bit of adoration
too much to ask?
I just need the edge taken off.
I mean... this fucking town.
What was I thinking?
Why'd you come back?
I want my kid.
What's your excuse?
I came here for comfort
and you're uncomfortable.
You used to treat me
like a trophy.
I was your prize.
Please.
I'm aching.
Fay...
Don't do that.
Don't look down at me.
I can't drink or drive.
I'm living with my parents.
A mercy fuck
isn't going to kill you.
I can't give you anything, Fay.
You used to beg me {or it.
Jesus. This is so humiliating.
You were never really my friend.
Fay, don't do this.
Every shitty thing I ever did
got back to them.
Except for the one thing
that would make them realise
what their fucking tin god
is really like.
We were kids.
Your mum paid for it.
Then she paid me.
Jesus.
And then nothing.
What kind of a man...
What kind of a kid...
Dad'?
Ricky.
Ricky. Bed.
I've got to wee.
Come on, mate. Into bed.
I guess that's a no, then.
Hey, Mum.
Mum.
How long is this gonna take?
Two hours.
You alright?
This is bullshit.
What do you think you're doing?
What does it look like?
- No, you're fucking not.
- Hey, language!
Mum, she sacked you.
Yeah, well,
I have plenty of other clients.
Mum, you've got to stop.
This is demeaning.
Oh, and to whom is it demeaning,
Victor? Hmm? You'?
Well, I'm not helping.
Did she call the police?
Well, if she had,
we'd know about it.
'Cause she can't claim insurance
if she doesn't report it.
This doesn't make any sense.
Does she think I stole them?
Oh, no. You haven't
helped out here in months.
Well, we have to do something.
You want to do something?
Take these to the laundry.
No.
OK, Mr High-and-Mighty
Law Student,
what do you suggest I do, then?
Well, let's just
take the money and go.
And confirm I'm a thief?
Well, let's just leave, then.
No. Not cleaning would
look like an admission of guilt.
So report it yourself, then.
Can you imagine the talk?
I'd lose all my clients.
Eugh!
Mum, it's not fair.
No.
Ifs not fair.
So do your poor mother a favour,
will you?
And use a disinfectant.
Ha.
Eh?
Bit of excitement, please.
It's carelessness.
Stupid carelessness.
Worth 500 bucks, my arse.
It doesn't change anything.
But this is proof
that you're innocent.
She'll just think
that I put them back
because she found me out.
Changes nothing.
Pop 'em back in her bedroom,
will you?
Well, that's the end of
three years' service.
What about the money?
Oh, I'm worth more than that.
- Well, I'll take it, then.
- Don't you dare.
We're not taking it
on principle.
Good one, Mum.
That'll really teach her.
I'll meet you out the front.
I know this one.
No, no, wait a minute.
Wait a minute.
We're definitely past
'More Songs of Praise'.
It's either
'Further Songs of Praise'
or 'Yet More Songs of Praise'.
You got somewhere to be?
Just trying to help.
- I haven't finished.
- Alright.
You're gonna be late for school.
Bye, Mum.
Why are you following me?
I'm just going to the bus.
You know what I mean.
Did you do your maths?
- No.
- Bugger.
I thought you might have.
Hey.
Do you mind if I come along?
You've got no shoes.
I'll be alright.
Suit yourself.
Damn ugly buggers, aren't they'?
S'pose.
OW!
Ah! Fuh... f... Ow, ow, ow.
Ow.
Are you OK?
Yeah, bloody wonderful.
Only a matter of time.
Hot water, they say.
See ya.
Brakey.
Have you drowned in there?
At least you got shoes tonight.
Do you remember that old canoe,
when we were kids?
And, like, we'd all try
and pile into it?
What happened to it?
I don't know.
Where are we going?
I'm going to the
Beasley sisters'.
Do they pay alright?
The Beasley sisters?
I don't even know what
flathead's worth.
It's gotta be more than
mullet, though, right?
Jesus, Brakey.
Spare me the pity, will ya?
I don't even like fishing.
I thought things
were better over at yours.
Why? Because he doesn't
hit her anymore?
It's worse.
OK?
It's worse.
Hey.
Oh, f...
Sorry.
It doesn't matter.
- Shit.
- I said it doesn't matter.
I'll see you, Brakey.
Oh, shit.
- Mum, there's a fire.
- What?
Fire!
Please help them!
Agnes!
- Agnes!
- Agnes!
- Agnes!
- Agnes!
No. No, Brakey! No!
No, Brakey!
Don't!
Get off.
No fighting, youse two!
Hi.
Is this machine free?
Yep.
Boy, that must've hurt.
I didn't even have the guts
to get my ears pierced.
It must really hurt there.
Oh. No. No.
It's easier than getting a tatt.
My name's Sherry.
Rae.
Hi, Rae.
We're moving into
a house up the hill.
Just waiting for the kitchen
to be done.
Are you staying in White Point
for good?
Yeah. Dan's the new manager
up at the depot.
I know what you're gonna
do. Don't touch that.
Don't youse be fucking with me,
saying you need to go
when you don't.
- You need to go to the toilet?
- I need to go toilet.
- You really need to go?
- I need to go toilet.
Max'? Max!
Max! Why can't we have
a house, for fuck's sake?
With an actual toilet in it.
We wouldn't have to
walk 50 metres, like...
...to take a shit.
I need to go toilet.
Go.
This place is so calm.
You're stuck here now.
You make it sound tragic.
Max lets me do darts nights,
Tuesday at the pub.
But... nothing happens here.
You're gonna be fucking bored
outta your skull.
You should come. Darts night.
You can meet the girls.
Oh, nights are a bit tricky
for me with Dan's workload.
Stay away from that
water, 'cause there's...
But the clays are good.
Your husband works at the depot
too, doesn't he?
- Yeah.
- Whoa! There's a big one!
He's a cray fisherman.
When we first got together
he shouted us a trip to Bali.
Screwed ourselves silly
for two weeks straight.
He's got a gut now.
Ooh.
- Oh, good bullseyes.
- Oh, yeah.
Ooh.
I'll go again, Razza.
Yay.
Come on. Bullseye.
- Oh!
- Bullseye.
You must be Rae, right?
- Sherry in?
- Yeah.
Rae?
Rae! Are you OK?
Where are the girls?
They're... It's darts night.
Max has got 'em.
Oh!
You guys have been going at it,
haven't ya?
Come in. Come in for a cuppa.
- Yeah.
- No.
Nah, it wouldn't be right.
'Cause...
Oh, I'll leave youse to it,
ya root rats.
See you.
Hope youse are hungry.
Yum.
Let me have the plates.
A chicken boob?
All good, hey?
Lily. You right?
Some more'?
Pretty good, hey'?
It's good.
You like... You like your
mum's dress?
- Rae. You're early tonight.
- Yeah.
- What happened to dads?
- I'm skippin' it.
Bunch of bitches.
Deb's got a gob on her.
I'm just over it.
Would you like some gnocchi,
Rae?
- What?
- Pasta.
Oh, yeah.
- Hello.
- G'day.
So it's this.
This?
This.
The Bible'?
Yeah, I know
what the fucking thing is.
Guys younger than me,
fucking half my age,
getting promotions.
I'm still fucking...
Shit-kicking, hauling arse
all day on the fucking deck.
It's not fair, Rae.
It's not fucken...
Hey.
I'd promote ya.
Hey?
Maxy?
Have you got anything stronger?
There's a reason why
there's no booze in the house.
Oh, 'cause you're churchy,
right?
Actually, it's because
I'm an alcoholic.
White Point is kind of our
second chance.
Yeah.
Booze leaves a pretty big hole.
We're just here,
finding our way.
- Ooh, look.
- Do you like that?
- Fairy dust.
- Ooh!
This is like a snake.
Come and have
a look at these ones.
- Showbags?
- Yeah, we'll find them.
I know where they are.
You know where they are?
Did you see them already?
They're up there, I think.
- Check it out.
- Oh.
You saw it already?
Holy hardware,
not really my thing.
Aww! Have a quick squiz.
Look at them all.
Do you want to go
and get the show bags, girls?
- Yeah!
- Yes?
We'll go get the show bags.
Let's go over here.
Come on.
Hold my hand.
Look. Check it out.
Instead of snow,
it's got little doves.
Look at this sixpack!
Jesus is ripped.
Alright?
What was it like?
This...
"born-again business?
Well...
It's about getting into...
No, no, I don't...
I don't mean what it's about-
I mean...
...What did it feel like?
The moment you suddenly got it.
The change, you know?
The moment you turned
or whatever you guys call it.
It was like a hot knife
going into me.
Like I was butter.
And this knife was
opening me up...
...and suddenly I could see all
this possibility in the world.
And then something more
than that. There...
There was hope and beauty
where...
...all I'd felt before
was hollow.
Sounds sexy.
Yeah, it was.
Yeah.
Lily.
There's Daddy.
Girls, get in the van.
Get in the van.
Who is it?
What'?
Fucking darts nights for weeks!
Who the fuck is he? Tell me!
He's bigger than you, Max.
So be careful.
You don't know him,
but he owns you.
He'll open you up
like a knife in butter.
Is that right? You tell me
his fucking name, ya slut!
Hi, girls.
Where the fuck do you think
you're going?!
Where you gonna go, eh?
Who the fuck is gonna have you?
Where the...
...fuck are you going?
You're mine.
"When an archer
is shooting for nothing,
"he has all his skill.
"If he shoots
for a brass buckle,
"he is already nervous.
"If he shoots
for a prize of gold,
"he goes blind
and sees two targets.
"He is out of his mind.
"His skill has not changed,
but the prize divides him.
"He cares.
"He thinks more of winning
than of shooting.
"And the need to win
drains him of power."
Prelim final,
the Swans lead by 18 points
early over the Hawks.
Here's the jack-in-the-box,
what a young player he is.
Frank Leaper,
second season player.
Hawthorn score
a really important goal.
They're back within 12 points
in this prelim final.
Leaper on the burst here,
looking for a pass out wide.
Leaper picks it up,
tries to get rid of it.
Does so. Well played.
Leaper still trying to encourage
himself and make a difference.
Oh, that's high! That is high!
Sydney are gonna get
a free kick.
Leaper's gonna have the chance
to put Sydney through
to the grand final.
Hawthorn fans cannot believe it.
There's no more play after this.
Leaper has the opportunity to do
what every young footballer...
...I can't believe it.
He's dropped the ball.
Frank Leaper has put
the ball on the ground
and the match
is effectively over.
It'll be Hawthorn into
the grand final.
Words can't describe it.
Sydney's future, we know,
in the short-term, is finished.
Sports fans are dismayed...
So what the fuck happened?
Couldn't do it anymore.
You mean you wouldn't do it.
That's what it looked like.
Watching, were ya?
Christ, you idiot,
that's my team.
Of course I was watching.
The whole family was watching,
tearing our fucking hair out.
You know, I'm the one
that has to live out here.
Yeah, but you hated it
when I was good.
You stupid little bastard.
People dreamed
of having what you had.
Oh, you mean you?
You're a fucking pussy.
Grab your board!
Let's go! Come on! Let's go!
One, two, three.
During moments of stillness,
Vic often felt he could see the
particles an object was made of
start to move.
As if he could slip his hand
through anything.
He was in the habit of
snapping his teeth
every time
they drove under a streetlight.
Salvation belongs to
our God, who sits on the throne,
and to the Lamb.
All the angels
were standing around the throne
and around the elders
and the four living creatures.
He liked to count
how many people caught his eye.
After this, I saw four angels
standing in the four corners
of the earth,
holding back
the four winds of the earth...
He imagined God as a newscaster
in front of a background
of stars,
preaching godly announcements
in a pristine blue suit
with utmost friendliness.
Amen.
Good evening, everyone.
He thought about how
much he would miss eating meat
in the paradise,
as everything
would be vegetarian.
This is God Almighty.
Welcome to the 7:30 news.
Oh, don't forget
you've got soccer practice
at 4:00pm this week, Vic.
Mr Davidson sent a notice around
saying that the Tigers
are sharing the oval...
Can you do that before
Aunty Mary arrives on Thursday
'cause I told her
that if there's space,
she can put some of her...
Occasionally,
when it's really dark at night,
Vic has to make sure
he hasn't gone blind.
He likes to wash his hands
and be out of the bathroom
by the time the flush finishes.
He loves a girl
who's out of his reach.
He wished he were invisible
again.
He practised
not looking over his shoulder...
...when he got the urge.
It doesn't happen often,
but there are times when
he gets the house to himself.
The rifle calms him down.
A bit early for a beer,
isn't it?
It's half past.
I thought she said 12:00pm.
You alright?
Mmm.
These crackers are pretty good.
Executive crackers.
Which I think it means you get
a better toy thing -
you know, the little toy things
they've got inside 'em'?
Oh, it's not like her
to be late.
Don't ruin your appetite.
A bit early for a beer,
isn't it?
I've had a little glass.
Fair enough.
She won't mind us drinking,
will she?
No.
Yep. It's Christmas.
You wouldn't know it, though.
It's so quiet.
I feel sorry for your mum,
you know.
I mean... it's just not much
of a Christmas, is it'?
No kids.
She's alright.
She loves ya.
Yeah.
Merry Christmas, Mum.
Very quiet.
Yeah. It's a bit hot
in here. Sorry.
You should get
an air conditioner.
Here.
That's for you. Merry Christmas.
Merry Christmas.
Come in.
Lunch is almost on the table.
They've asked us over
at Ernie and Cleds.
- What?
- This arvo.
I haven't seen them for years.
- Hi, Gail.
- Hi, Carol.
It's for you. It's a tin of tea.
Oh, Merry Christmas.
Oh!
What, are you actually
going to go?
I don't see why not.
I think you have to give people
the benefit of the doubt.
Jeez.
I don't believe it.
Will you come with me?
You've never met them,
have you, Gail?
Your uncle Ernie'?
Just for an hour.
Yeah, fine. Just for an hour.
Are you sure this is it, Mum?
This is the address
they gave me.
I just don't recognise anything.
Well, you haven't seen them
since you were at the uni.
We'll look around the back.
Might be in the pool.
You don't even know
if they've got a pool.
What are the chances of a place
like this not having a pool?
Imagine cleaning it.
What? The pool?
The house, Gail.
Oh, so... yes.
Hello?
Hello?
Ifs quiet.
It's too damn quiet.
Yoo-hoo!
it's the Marie Celeste.
Ifs rude, that's what it is.
Jesus!
My sainted aunt!
Not in this family!
It's lovely in!
What if this isn't even
the right place?
It better be.
I'm going to check.
Just wait there.
Oh, bloody hell.
Hey!
- What is it, love'?
- It's not them. Get out.
Oh, God.
I've lost my other shoe.
I'm going to lose my job.
Oh, dear.
Wrong house, Mum.
- But I wrote it down!
- Oh, shit!
Is that champagne?
Pour me a glass!
What'?
What, you don't think
I've got an excuse?
Just this once'?
Oh, come on.
Give your mother a drink.
I lost a shoe over this.
Oh, look.
I wrote '75'
and read the 5 as an 8.
My handwriting's not good
and my eyesight's worse!
Oh!
Don't worry about it, Carol.
For what it's worth,
I enjoyed it.
Imagine if they'd've
sprung us in their pool.
They'll find the shoe.
I mean, that is
breaking and entering.
Well...
Happy Christmas.
- I'm serious, Mum.
- Oh.
Well, I don't know about
anyone else,
but it's the most fun
I've ever had at Christmas.
I felt like I was 10 years old.
Got that
kind of naughty feeling.
Oh, yeah.
Be quiet, Vic. Let her talk.
When I was little,
we weren't even allow to say
"Merry Christmas"
because it condoned drunkenness.
It was "Happy Christmas"
or it was the doghouse.
Oh, I'm sorry, Carol.
I wasn't thinking.
Sorry.
What, because Bob
was an alcoholic?
You're too careful.
Why... how did you know
it wasn't Ernie's house?
Photos.
Oh, no red hair,
no freckles, no ugly cousins.
No wobbegongs.
Hang on. That's our gene pool.
Don't even say the word 'pool'.
Well, they're nothing alike,
Bob and Ernie.
Pardon me.
Bob was everything Ernie wasn't.
He cleaned up every mess
Ernie ever made.
No thanks, no recognition.
And when Bob needed help,
nothing.
No... nothing.
Just a howl of disappointment.
Disapproval.
Yeah.
No, no. I've heard the stories.
Family's not a word,
it's a sentence.
Mmm!
Rubbish. It's a challenge.
No! It's an adventure.
I think I'd like another glass,
Gail.
Come on.
We'll take the bottle outside.
- Mum...
- We can drink it there.
Oh, come on.
Oh, Vic!
It's Christmas!
Anyway,
I think I'm a little bit tipsy.
Whoops.
- Go on. There you go.
- Oh.
Ooh!
Thanks, Gail.
Vic!
You coming out?
No, I'm good.
Yes, he is. He's a good man.
Like his father.
There. See there?
That's where Santa Claus lives.
Is it'?
My mother was a drunk.
She lived on peanuts and gin.
Whenever I wanted
her to hug me...
I dragged her out of pubs
after school, every day.
Whenever I want her to hug me,
she'd crack open a peanut
and she'd say, "Look, Carol.
That's where Santa Claus lives."
Don't give her
any more to drink.
Well, excuse us, Constable!
Oh, let's get him
with a peanut. Go on.
Oh!
- Right.
- Well done, Gail.
- Hey?
- Now it's on.
Oh, yeah. Now it's on.
It's a peg fight.
Peg and peanuts.
Now it's serious.
Hit him with the peanut.
This time, it's serious.
Pretty good.
Come on, Victor.
You're the target.
Yeah, don't start something
you can't finish.
Is it your mother?
Yes.
You'll need a cup of tea.
How long have you
lived like this?
Sober? 15 years.
Look, it'll be too dangerous
trying to drive back to the city
in the dark.
Can you wait till morning?
You're welcome to stay here.
How do you live?
I get the pension.
I look after things for people,
keep them for them.
What sort of things?
Money, gold.
There's a few people here
and there still prospecting.
And often as not, they're just
going off their rockers and...
...drinking too much.
They don't trust each other,
they don't trust themselves
and they leave their stuff
with me.
Why you?
Because I don't drink.
Because I'm trustworthy.
I have to see some people
before I leave.
In case there's any
misunderstanding.
Do you want me to drive you?
Well, it would be quicker.
Yeah, just pull up here.
Yep.
I won't be long.
Did you hear about
the royal commission?
Somebody said it was on.
You're not curious?
It was a long time ago.
Shame to get this car dirty.
I hear you're a lawyer now.
Yeah.
What kind'?
Industrial relations.
On whose side?
The little bloke.
Oh, that's good.
That's good. You've gotta
look after the little bloke.
Yeah, well, that's the theory.
And your mother, is she...
...sick?
- Yeah.
- How sick?
She's dying.
Well, it hasn't all
been for nothing, then.
What hasn't?
Sobering up.
I couldn't have gone drunk.
I don't think she really cares
about that anymore.
Well, I wouldn't have.
I wouldn't have gone drunk.
- That's irrelevant.
- I wouldn't have gone.
It's not irrelevant to me.
Well, Jesus, you've been sober
for 15 years,
any way it turns out.
Waiting every day.
Have you ever written to her?
- Not since I've been straight.
- Why not?
Shame, I suppose.
- I didn't want to get...
- She's married to you!
So I believe.
It's good that you're sober.
I'm sorry.
I wish I could undo it all.
What the hell was it, Dad?
I lost my way.
Yeah, well, we've come across
that, haven't we?
You lost your way and we...
we all got lost with you.
You never said.
You never told us.
And the job?
Was it something you did?
Is that what you think?
You think that I'm sitting here
waiting to be named
in that inquiry?
Well, I've...
I've wondered, Dad.
I'm really sorry about that.
I saw things.
Well, I don't know.
I half saw things.
Things I didn't really
understand at the time.
I don't even really understand
them now. It's just...
It was the surprise of it.
Knowing that
I was on the outside.
As soon as I smelt that
there was something crook,
I knew there was
no-one safe to tell.
Nobody at all'?
No, I thought I was going nuts.
But then there was
this little kid.
He was a small-time petty crim.
He had his legs broken
out on Thunder Beach.
Yeah, he got... he hopped into
a car with detectives...
Yeah, that's the one.
Those two demons
come down from the city.
I don't know what it was about.
Drugs, I s'pose.
I never really understood it.
It was just that
he'd fallen foul of them
and any question about it,
any witness account
died on the vine.
It didn't matter who it came to.
It felt like
whatever was going on,
I was the only bloke
not in on it.
So who do you talk to?
Who do you trust?
I know it ate me alive.
I should have quit.
But I didn't even have the guts
to do that.
It would have saved us all
a lot of pain.
I just hung on in there until
there was nothing left of me.
There was nothing left
of any of us.
It was cowardice.
It's not natural.
You learn it.
So, how did you
get off the booze?
I went to a meeting
in Kalgoorlie.
Just the one?
Yeah. Only the one.
I'd had enough of self-pity.
30...?
I was living
behind the pub then.
Called myself a yardman,
but basically I was an alcoholic
sweeping floors for drinks.
Then I came up here
with the dog and I hid.
I think I was trying to work up
the nerve to kill myself.
There's plenty of mineshafts
up here.
No shortage of means.
I spent months
plotting and planning.
I went mad, I s'pose.
And then I realised I'd been
six months without a drink.
I woke up one morning.
It was winter.
The sun was on this fallen tree,
this dead, grey tree,
and there was steam
rising off the dead wood...
...and I felt new.
I had this feeling that
the world was inviting me in
and luring me towards...
...something.
I dunno. Life, I s'pose.
I see you read a lot.
Yep.
It's an education.
But my eyes are going.
We'll get you some glasses.
What time do you want to leave?
Uh, first thing.
Fair enough.
You got it?
You'll take it.
And you'll keep
your fucking mouth shut.
Say g'day to Vic for me.
Ultimo
1 radio - you have a job for us?
Listen up, everyone.
There's been a report
of a missing hiker.
Last seen
on the western track here.
By the sounds of it,
he's been caught in a fog
and wandered off the path
somewhere.
He's missing two days now,
so he's either fallen off
the first tier,
or broken something
along the way.
If he's alive,
we'll need to find him by dark.
It's getting bloody cold
up there.
So we need to move fast.
Right. Stick to your groups.
Let's get going.
Uh, Bill, you lead the group
along the western track
and keep everyone close.
We don't wanna lose any more
of you, for God's sake.
Lang. You'll be taking
a back seat on this one.
Join Bill's group or something.
There's a reporter
looking for you somewhere.
Just talk her
through the process
and make us sound good, alright?
- Me?
- Yes, you.
Fuck knows why,
but she wants to speak with you.
Is there a problem, Sergeant?
No. No problem.
Good. 'Cause we don't want
any more trouble now, do we?
Constable Lang?
Um... excuse me?
Constable Lang?
Sergeant Lang.
Oh. Sorry, Sergeant.
Um... I was told you were
someone who could help me.
My name's Marie.
You're the journalist?
Mmm, no - I'm a cadet, actually,
but I was hoping
I could ask you a few questions.
Won't hold you up. Promise.
Can ask 'em as we walk.
Oh. Well, come on, then.
Can you explain why
we've left the group?
In my opinion,
he's landed on the eastern side
of the mountain.
He's fallen into that area
up ahead.
So, have you worked in
this area long'?
About six months.
Oh.
How do you like it here so far?
Looks like
the weather's coming in.
I can't see the track anymore.
Or hear anyone.
Maybe we should just go back.
If you go back the way we came,
you should find the track.
It's getting dark.
I can't go alone.
Fair enough.
Hello?!
Constable Lang!
Marie'?
Hello!
- Help!
- Hey!
I'm over here!
Marie!
- Is he alive?
- Just.
What are we gonna do?
It looks like we're gonna
be in for a long night.
Fuck, I just feel so helpless.
First day
I was posted out here...
...got called up on this...
this accident.
This young farm kid...
...was doing tricks...
...on his trail bike.
He pulled out from behind the
bus on to the oncoming car.
Just cleaned him up.
I just sat there.
Waited with him
till the ambulance came.
All his schoolmates
just staring at me
like there was something
I could actually do.
He died in my arms.
Oh... God, I'm sorry.
I thought I was tougher
than this.
Sometimes there's just
nothing you can do.
Do you like your work?
What'?
Guys you work with? Good guys?
Yeah.
The two detectives
found his father on the bed.
He'd been dead for 10 days.
Some say that he put a pillow
over his dad's head...
...and suffocated him.
But that's just
what they told me.
Mum and Dad told me about
an oldish man called Boner.
He lived by the river
in a beat-up caravan
and his girlfriend had left him
and he'd shot himself underneath
the chin but he survived that.
He had half of his face
blown off
and he had a big hole
in his neck,
where his... around
where his voice box was.
So every time he spoke,
he had to put his finger
into his mouth,
into his neck,
and that... just so he could...
was able to speak.
It was, like...
something like that.
I reckon it must've been
early high school
and Boner was older than me.
He wasn't really a mate.
I didn't have any mates
in those days.
A mate was probably just someone
who was a bit less of
an arsehole than an enemy.
And people used to
just treat me like shit.
They used to call me
fucking 'Flathead'
and there was
these two older cunts
that used to just belt the fuck
out of me every lesson.
They thought it just was
good fun.
Anyway, one day Boner
must've fucking heard about it
and I was down in A-wing,
down this long bloody corridor.
I looked up and I saw these two
bastards coming and...
...and Boner was standing
behind them
and he was kneeing them in the
backside as they walked along
and whacking them
in the back of the head
and he was saying to 'em,
"You fucking leave him alone.
"You leave him alone."
And he got to
the end of the corridor
and then he just fucking
belted the shit out of them
and he was saying,
"Leave the... leave him alone,
you fucking dogs."
And no-one knew... no-one except
me knew why he was doing it.
And he was standing up for me
and yet...
he hardly knew me, really,
and that was the first time
anyone had ever really
stood up for me.
Yeah, well,
Boner was driving along one day
and he had
a whole heap of garbage
on the front of his car,
on the dash,
and they fell off and he looked
down to see what was going on.
And there was a police car
coming the other way.
And he wandered across the road
and pushed the police car
off the road.
Got down the road a bit,
looked in the mirror
and the police are chasing him.
So he pulled up.
The police said to him,
"You just run us off the road."
.
He said, "Well, that's pretty
obvious you didn't see us."
He said,
"You run us off the road."
He said, "We had to go
out in the paddock there."
He said, "Look at the car.
"It's covered in grass and dirt
and mud.
"What were you doing?"
"Oh," he said, "what happened
is... I'm a snake catcher.
"I had a snake in a bag there."
And he said, "And he got out and
he was crawling over my legs."
He said, "I bent down
to pick him up
"and when I bent down, I must've
wandered across the road."
They said, "Where's the snake?"
He said, "In the car. Do you
want to help me catch it?"
He said to the police.
They said, "Nah, you're right,
mate. Just go on your way."
That's what...
He was a wild man.
I heard a bit about him
but he was always in trouble.
He was always in trouble
with the police.
He used to go to school and
he got the cuts that many times,
his hands and everything,
that he decided that he wasn't
going to get it anymore
so he didn't do anything
to the teacher
but he just said,
"If you're gonna give me
the strap again,"
"you'll get the knife,"
you know?
That was about it.
He was always in... when
were in school, he was always...
You know, he'd be the one
that's there...
...baring his behind to the girls
in the back.
He'd bend over and...
Well, he got expelled for that,
so that was the end of him.
I... I wasn't
one of his molls.
But, um, I remember
how just going for one ride
in his panel van
would set you up
with a reputation
for the rest of your life.
You didn't even really have
to do anything with him,
just be seen in his car.
So, one day when
I had to go the shops,
I heard his car coming along
and, um, started swinging
my hips a little bit more.
And he pulled up.
And he only asked me where
Jackie was, for God's sake,
and I just said,
"Oh, I don't Know where she is."
And I kept him talking
for a little while.
A couple of...
Susie and Rachel
went past in a car.
I leant right in the car
and sort of bent down
and touched the gearstick
and made out that,
you know, I was inside the car,
giving him a kiss.
And then when they went past, he
sort of drove off not long after
and I told people that...
that I'd fucked him,
that I actually had sex
with him that day.
And I didn't.
Like, he didn't even touch me.
The inside of the house
was just... torn to pieces,
they told me.
Like someone had gone
through it in a fit of rage.
They said they found drugs
at the house.
Lots of ammo.
And on the walls there was
this weird pornography
and he got a cigarette
and burnt where their cunts
were...
...and their breasts.
He was naked
when they found him.
They said he was just crazy.
He wasn't making
any sense at all.
He had these shark jewels
around his neck.
His face was badly cut.
No-one knew
what he'd done to himself.
When the cops got there...
...he just kept mumbling
over and over again.
"You see that tree'?
"See that tree? That's my
mother's screamin' neck.
"You can hang me from that tree.
I don't give a fuck.
"You can hang me. I don't care."
That's just what I've heard.
"I'm fucking Boner
and don't you forget it."
God.
- Hi.
- Hi.
Where did you get that?
He thinks he's Clint Eastwood.
- Hey. Merry Christmas.
- Give us a hug.
- Hi, mate.
- Happy Christmas.
- Hi, Fenn.
- Mwah. Good to see you again.
Hey. Happy Christmas.
You too.
- Sorry we're late.
- No, you're just in time.
Just cracked open one of Peon's
new cab merlots.
It'll change your life.
It's so good to see you.
Oh, you too!
What's this?
I found it.
Back of Dads shed.
I never hit any of 'em
but, Christ, it's fun trying.
You're a good country boy.
You a shooter?
- Nah.
- Have a go.
Nah.
Rightio.
- Is that the ocean?
- Yeah.
Moving down here was
the best thing we ever did.
You grew up down here,
didn't you?
- Yeah, about 20 minutes inland.
- Get down much?
Nah. Not really.
You right?
Yeah, good.
Really?
'Cause you look like shit.
What are you doing?
Just thought I saw the old man.
Turns out I'm just getting old.
Jesus, you're 38, Vic.
Yeah.
So you're just never going
to talk about it?
What do you want me to say?
It's just so much good shit.
No, it's just because you want
to play with them. That's all.
Well, yeah. We didn't have any
of that stuff when I was a kid.
It was just Matchbox cars.
Oh, God, I wish
I had Matchbox cars.
I only had the Book
of Lamentations and... socks.
That's slightly cheaper
than what he's going for.
Well, at least I've got a wife
and Australia's largest
mining company to prop me up.
How is that going?
You should've seen it.
This boardroom was just filled
with Texans wearing cowboy hats.
- No.
- I fuck you not.
Giant bucket hats
with string ties.
Just throwing around their cash.
See, that's where
you need to head.
There's no shit fights
in the mining industry.
How's the nurses' strike
going, Vic?
Yeah, we're getting there.
Really?
it's more of a statement,
though, isn't it?
We'll see, I guess.
Vic Lang.
Man of action.
The defender of the people.
Gail.
You know, I did used to shoot
when I was a kid.
When I was about 14,
before my dad left.
We had this old Savage.
When he'd go off to work
and my mum would take my sister
up the shops, I'd pull it out.
Sit by the window.
I'd, uh... look down the sights.
People walking down the street.
I'd aim it at them. I'd...
...load and cock it
and I'd aim it at people
walking down the street.
That's what you wanted
to tell me now?
Another little childhood
anecdote.
You're always bloody doing
the dishes.
Leave them.
I'll do them in the morning.
Nah, it's alright.
I'll do 'em... I'll do 'em now.
They know, don't they?
Was it Fenn?
I thought you said
you didn't want to know.
Was it?
What difference does it make?
Do it.
Do anything.
Being with you makes me feel
so lonely.
Pull.
Pull.
Pull.
Pull.
Bloody hell.
You ready, Emmy?
Yeah.
Ready...
...steady...
Pull.
Although I do not hope
to turn again.
Although I do not hope.
Although I do not hope to turn.