Film Out on a Limb

Solo

Directed by Tony Williams Plaza

Solo is a very visual film. The colourful landscape and settings, in their composition and imagery, are moodily poetic. The aerial scenes convey a glorious sense of freedom, and the sequences throughout the film blend together in an easy lyrical fashion.

But besides the technical expertise in camera handling and editing, Solo fails as a film. The plot is the stuff cliches are made of. It is so trite, it could have taken taken place in the Mojave Desert with equal credibility. Solo Dad flying fire warden meets solo girl hitch-hiker, In an idyllic forest setting they fall in love. But before they commit themselves, the girl leaves. Certainly no awards for originality.

As the story progresses, the emotional level of the narrative does not follow. The girl is supposedly the centre of attention, yet the other characters intrude so strongly, our emotional link with her is frequently broken. Billy, the son, is the most at fault. He lives in a very imaginative solo world and provides humourous relief with his smart one-liners and accident proneness.

There are also the sequences with Davina Whitehouse as an eccentric farmer. Any god-forsaken casting agent ought to realise her mere presence obliterates any other character on screen. It is as if we require reminding of how poor the acting

Vincent Gil as the hero Paul, is nothing less than staid. Son Billy, played by Perry Armstrong can only be described as pathetic. The character of Billy is written as an integral part of the plot (banal as it is) yet surprisingly they cast someone of less than amateur acting ability. Armstrong plays Billy's introspection with a constant downward gaze and implies depth with his words, but it just isn't convincing. He certainly has all the funny lines ("Tie her down". 'Tie her down?" says Billy looking at the girl, "Oh you mean the plane"), but they are only funny in idea, and not because of him.

The depth of his character is also inconsistent. We are lead to believe he is all knowledgeable about open sexuality and human relationships (He says to the girl after Paul is forced to land the Tiger Moth on a beach, "He's let you down just just like all the other men in your life.") But he carries a toy six-shooter and later with a bout of the sulks, attempts to fly the Tiger Moth alone in vengence. Presumably this can all be dismissed as part of his imaginative mind. Unfortunately, Billy comes across merely as a convenient vehicle for humour and dramatic contrast.

Lisa Peers handles her part better. According to Williams, members of the cast contributed ideas on treatment and development of the screenplay, making the finished film a reflection of their feelings and their attitude. Lisa Peers alone accurately reflects the emotions of her character Judy, but sadly she suffers from poor direction. The camera flows fluid but the actors don't. Even her walk looks clumsy in places. (The direction may be explained by the fact that Tony Williams is an ex-cameraman)

Even more confusing is the strange esteem the scriptwriters (Williams and Martyn Sanderson, who has a bit part) have of the audience. We are expected to catch onto Billy's little puns, be mature enough to understand the loneliness and love felt by the characters, and yet simple courses of action in the film have to be blatantly underlined. There is the ridiculous line by Davina Whitehouse referring to Billy's flying of the Tiger Moth. "Of course, he might have felt left out and wanted to draw attention to himself." And again after Billy falls from his horse, "I know, I'm accident prone". By then anyway, the smart one-liners by-Billy have become quite wearisome.

The structure of the plot may be a worse fault. When Paul gives his dissertation on solo flight (" . . . when you go solo, it wouldn't matter if the world disappeared. . . ") and later to Billy (". . . you've got to fly it with your feelings, instincts, build up your strength . . . "), the passages plug at underlying themes, they are crucial statements about their experiences, the rationale of their behaviour, and yet one cannot help feeling they were misplaced in the story. It is difficult to predict how much the script suffered from the improvisation process.

What Solo lacks in writing however, is made up by exquisite camera work, the moving incidental music from Red Hot Peppers, and Lisa Peers' perceptive performance.

New Zealand film still has a long way to go. One awaits the day products of the financial backers are not conspicuously (and embarrassingly) presented on screen and their place in the list of credits is no longer necessary.

Kevin John Young