FILM DIARY

as he opened the box
his eyes alighted at last on what he was seeking
an australian flag
printed on a faded sky blue background
picking up the book
he wiped the dust from its cover
coughing
he turned to the first page
neat script written in blue biro on red paper
days 115 - 176
24 february - 26 april 1990
he knew this would be an unlikely story
peopled by a cast of fabulous characters
part imagined fact
part true fiction
the setting?
a shabby backpackers hostel in kings cross
a lorry trundling the length and breadth
of the sydney suburbs
a rambling houseshare in surry hills
an architects office in north sydney
a newsagents in town hall station concourse
a blurring succession
of pubs and gigs and parties in surry hills
the cafes of darlinghurst
the markets of paddington
the protagonist?
a lanky blond-haired grey-eyed young everyman
adventurous in spirit
but naive and inexperienced
a mere A$400 to his name
accustomed to life on a shoestring
living for the day or night
ready to take what he could get
while he could get it
unsure of what tomorrow would bring
the plot?
a breathless tale of mis-spent youth
stumbling from black-eyed drunken stupor
to the bleary tedium of casual work
from all night out on the town
to the clumsy detail of the casual affair
the cast?
a sadistic sicilian lorry driver
a schizophrenic landlord
a roommate with a deathwish
a cockney vegan travelling incognito
an unrequited housemate
an egotistical ex-travelling companion
a bumbling and scheming supervisor
a croatian triple j devotee
a bisexual party animal
a 17-year-old ruby tuesday
a hundred pom-bashing wise guys

the scenery?

the soaring backdrop of the harbour bridge

the majestic airbrushed vistas of the blue mountains

the parched bush landscapes of new south wales

the golden curve of bondi

the water-cannoned seediness of the cross at dawn

the musak-washed blandness of the shopping arcade

the airless claustrophobia of the underground

the bohemian brickwork of surry hills:

'i loved my records - $ to you'

the soundtrack?

wet blanket and danny destiny by the chills

out of my hands by died pretty

a country called nothing and fade by glide

metropolis and you're still beautiful by the church

bye bye pride and the streets of your town by the go-bes

beds are burning by midnight oil

nothing compares 2 u by sinead o'connor

living on a prayer by aerosmith

as he read and remembered

the images

the words

the sights

the sounds

the feelings

the sensations

all flooded back

the energy

the vitality

the pomp

of youth

refracted through the nostalgic prism

of middle age