Stone Bros.: seriously stoned

Activating social change and dismantling discrimination through film is tricky, but as Laine Lister discovered, a brilliant man, 187 joints and a demon dog can be quite persuasive.

The main thing we’d heard about Richard J. Frankland before speaking with him about his feature film directorial debut, was the Indigenous activism, links with the Royal Commission into Aboriginal Deaths in Custody and a string of documentaries including After Mabo, which he executive produced.

So it came as a surprise that his new film, the comedy Stone Bros., is, to say the least, very politically incorrect. Combining ‘stoner’ humour with young Indigenous people is a bold decision, considering the very real drug consumption problems Aboriginal communities face.

It was with some trepidation – and a copy of Screen Australia’s Pathways and Protocols: A filmmaker’s guide to working with Indigenous people, culture and concepts on hand– that we approached the interview.

But within a few minutes of speaking we’re at ease as he bursts into an infectious laughter suggesting we “take a change of undies” to see Stone Bros.

Frankland is breathtakingly clever, but his smarts aren’t the threatening type. Put it down to his genuineness and lack of pretence; his warm demeanour; and that belly laugh.

It’s this sense of contradiction that is captured in Stone Bros. – a comedic, stoner road movie about a young Aboriginal man who, fed up with city life, journeys home to Kalgoorlie to reconnect with his blackfella roots.

Why the detour in tone? It wasn’t initially his intention, he explains, adding that producer Ross Hutchens helped him realise the potential a comedic approach had to complement a serious story and generate social awareness.

“I’ve been telling serious stories for a long time and those were quite heavy. My job as a filmmaker, storyteller, musician and author is to facilitate voice and there’s a helluva lot of humour in Aboriginal Australia that had not been brought to the surface for broader Australia to see, so when Ross suggested making a comedy, I thought ‘what a great idea’,” he says.

Having met prior to filming their mutual project – the SBS Television drama series The Circuit, the pair was reconnected when Frankland pitched a serious feature film “an Australian In the Heat of the Night” to Media World Pictures (a Victorian/West Australianbased production company headed up by Hutchens).

“I liked working with him, but I had a few reservations about the project,” admits Hutchens.

At the same time, Hutchens introduced Frankland to a Perth theatre piece he’d seen, “a kind of Aboriginal comedy”, which inspired the director/writer to reach for a comedic story he’d previously penned and shelved.

“I loved it; it was anarchic and rough, but quite unique and very funny, so that’s what started it – we optioned that script and took it on from there,” Hutchens recalls.

GET OVER IT

The result is the first Indigenous comedy feature made by an Indigenous filmmaker. Its message, says Frankland, addresses cultural divide – both within Indigenous communities and the greater Australia.

“It’s the same message I’ve been telling all along: get over it. Australia’s got many cultures and we’re here to celebrate the lot,” he says.

More than that, however, the film represents a broader movement that will have liberating ramifications for a new wave of young Indigenous filmmakers. Warwick Thornton’s Samson & Delilah and Rachel Perkins’ Bran Nue Dae are on the same trajectory.

“It means voice, it means that we no longer have to tell stories that are specifically about sad things; it means we have the option to make horror films and action films, and it means we are seen more as part of society now than we ever were. Australia is adopting a new identity and that’s a great opportunity for all of us,” Frankland insists.

The film has been well received during test screenings. However, Hutchens admits that a kind of ‘white guilt’ has been noticeable, as early as the script reading stage.

“White members of the audience would burst out laughing at something then they would censor themselves, you could actually feel them stop laughing because they’d think ‘should I be laughing at this?’ By the end though, there was a palpable sense of relief.”

Relief comes with the realisation that ‘we’re all in this together’ and rather than preach to audiences, humour helps to dismantle prejudice.

“It’s just these boys bumbling through life and we go on that journey with them; sometimes laughing with them, sometime laughing at them, but at the end we feel a greater connection with them,” Hutchens says.

We also feel a greater connection with the land, according to Hutchens.

“The desert does not mean desolate. For the boys, despite the big holes in the ground and the mining going on around them, this was home so we liked the sparseness of the land,” says Hutchens.

Unlike some ‘tourism projects’ that portray sweeping lush landscapes or urban settings, Stone Bros. presents arid Australia in an appealing light. Director of photography Joe Pickering and production designer Sam Hobbs evoke audiences’ appreciation for the land as the boys travel from the cool of the city to the warmth of the outback and closer to home.

In one scene, an argument erupts between the two central characters Eddie (Luke Carroll) and Charlie (Leon Burchill), seen in close up, before the camera dollies out revealing endless blue sky above an isolated salt pan.

“Exploding from the intricacies of an emotional argument with a loved one to that landscape takes people on another journey; it opens a whole new window for audiences to look through,” Frankland explains.

MATURE AUDIENCES ONLY?

With its many faces, this film is set to appeal to both a niche and mainstream audience seeking humour, cultural education and the stark beauty of the outback.

“It’s a film that has always been a little bit between two schools…that’s been the problem all the way along, not just in marketing the finished film, but trying to sell the script and everything,” says Hutchens.

The film’s distributor, the Australian Film Syndicate (AFS), will market the film as a comedy. And if the publicity-driven push for their hit The Combination is a benchmark, audiences should expect plenty of controversy surrounding the launch of Stone Bros..

In fact, as Encore went to print, Stone Bros. made headlines following the film’s MA 15+ classification being handed down. Frankland slammed the Film Classification Board for what he described as an unnecessarily harsh rating, accusing classifiers of failing to do their job properly and falling victim to Indigenous stereotyping. The rating deems the film unsuitable for viewers under 15 years, which Frankland argued would limit his audience, particularly for young Aboriginals struggling with drug and alcohol abuse.

In its report, the Board states that the film ‘contains numerous visuals of explicit marijuana smoking and the hallucinatory effects of consuming the illicit drug’, and therefore requires the rating. Recent international films with similar scenes have all been classified MA15+. Soon after, federal Minister for Home Affairse Brandan O’Connor called for a review of the Board’s decision. If Frankland has his way, however, all Australians will see the film and claim it as their own.

“Whether they are black or white, I’m hoping every Australian owns it and is proud of it; that would be a great thing. We’ve got a great opportunity to put another shovel load of good earth in the cultural abyss and I reckon this film is going to do that”. ■