I’m skipping over “The Thief of Sydney” to tell the denouement of my non-career as a movie star, Virgin Beasts, all very cut up a la William Burroughs. These are the unabridged Production Notes on Virgin Beasts that I am presenting at Newtown Library in September for my return to the era of '80s “Grunge” via the soundtrack and artworks from the movie. It’s a long story, some of which I’ve told before but here it is from beginning to end, straight from the heart.
Late 1989 - All the film bureaucrats were in a kerfluffle, the joint was getting a shake-up as nepotism, cliques and hidden agendas wasn't supposed to happen in an open democracy, not with millions of dollars to throw around. A new boss was brought in from outside, (Peter Sainesbury had previously worked in the British film industry), to get the AFC shipshape, and it seemed to me the chance of a fair hearing was in the air. I tried to ring the guy but got his secretary instead, and I was denied access, the phone hung up on me. I also had his private office number so I took a deep breath and rang him direct, and he picked up the phone.
1993 - For me it was back on the streets where I schemed to make another movie but being on the bottom of the heap has its dangers and I suddenly had the worst luck of my life. Some junkie had robbed my local cake-shop and in a case of mistaken identity I was grabbed and questioned by two corrupt cops. I recognized one of them from the night of my premier at Jellyhedz and it seemed to me he wanted to cut this smart-arse filmmaker down to size. When pleading “I’m an artist” one pig snarled, “You’re just a bullshit artist, mate.” On finding I had a record of civil disobedience on many political issues, all part of my “performance art”, THEY decided to frame me for ‘armed robbery’ and, after 2 years of house arrest and torture, sent me to trial.