Gallipoli: 'We haven't seen a Turk yet!'
Archy (Mark Lee) and Frank (Mel Gibson), newly arrived on Gallipoli, get a rude education on life and death in the trenches. A human body forms part of the parapet; soldiers take turns at shooting targets held up by the Turks; the Diggers have to make their own bombs.
Gallipoli remains one of the most loved of all Australian films. It’s one of Weir’s most nakedly emotional films and one of his most poetic.
Summary by Paul Byrnes.
An extremely vivid and sardonic view of the trenches, the result of extensive research, gives a superb sense of what trench life on Gallipoli was like. The scene illustrates well the use of humour as a means of coping, and the close proximity of the trench lines. There had been a series of films about Gallipoli in the early part of the century - but nothing had dared to show the realities of trench life with such frank detail.
In Western Australia in 1915 two young men join up to fight in the First World War. Archy Hamilton (Mark Lee) is the patriotic son of a grazier. Frank Dunne (Mel Gibson) is a drifter with no great desire to fight for the British Empire. They meet as runners in an outback footrace and become best mates. After training in Egypt, they land at Gallipoli, just as the great allied assaults of August 1915 are to begin.
Gallipoli curator's notes
Gallipoli created a national and international debate when it premiered in 1981. It was a huge hit in Australia, but British historians took it to task for factual inaccuracies and alleged bias against the British commanders of the campaign.
The charge at The Nek on August 7, 1915, which provides the film’s climax, did take place but an Australian, rather than a British officer, ordered the final charge. The film gives the opposite impression, something Peter Weir has said he regrets. 'The implication was that we were Pom bashing,’ he told David Stratton, 'whereas they had fought valiantly and suffered terribly alongside us. Apart from that the events were portrayed pretty accurately’. Historians are still divided over the wider question of whether the British commanders of the campaign were incompetent.
The film remains one of the most loved of all Australian films, partly because of its intense nationalism. Its mixture of innocence and sacrifice, youthful high spirits and brutal, industrialised murder, helped to redefine how Australians thought about the First World War. In dramatic terms, it’s one of Weir’s most nakedly emotional films and one of his most poetic, especially during the elegiac finale. It is packed with religious imagery, the final freeze-frame being a form of crucifixion.
It opened shortly after Breaker Morant, another film that presented a vision of Australian soldiers (even if Morant was actually British) as lambs to a British slaughter.
Notes by Paul Byrnes.