Heather Rose’s novel Bruny and Nicole Haddow’s book Smashed Avocado: How I Cracked the Property Market and You Can Too have each been optioned by high-profile producers.
Film Art Media’s Sue Maslin and Charlotte Seymour bought the rights to Bruny, which is set in a near-future in a place where the inhabitants are inoculated against change and a bridge to connect Bruny Island to mainland Tasmania is blown up by terrorists.
Astrid Coleman, a Un troubleshooter, is called home to Tasmania to manage the fallout and finds herself caught between political foes, foreign interests and island families.
Good Thing Productions’ Nick Batzias, Virginia Whitwell and Charlotte Wheaton optioned the book by Haddow, a former Australian Financial Review journalist, which details her account of buying her first home and interviews with others who found diverse ways to enter the property market, including ‘rentvesting,’ flipping, Airbnb, tiny homes and buying regionally.
Film Art Media’s Sue Maslin and Charlotte Seymour bought the rights to Bruny, which is set in a near-future in a place where the inhabitants are inoculated against change and a bridge to connect Bruny Island to mainland Tasmania is blown up by terrorists.
Astrid Coleman, a Un troubleshooter, is called home to Tasmania to manage the fallout and finds herself caught between political foes, foreign interests and island families.
Good Thing Productions’ Nick Batzias, Virginia Whitwell and Charlotte Wheaton optioned the book by Haddow, a former Australian Financial Review journalist, which details her account of buying her first home and interviews with others who found diverse ways to enter the property market, including ‘rentvesting,’ flipping, Airbnb, tiny homes and buying regionally.
- 5/25/2020
- by The IF Team
- IF.com.au
Director Rolf de Heer collaborated with actor and disability rights campaigner Heather Rose on a love triangle drama unlike any other
The panning last year of Chris Lilley’s “brownface” in the ABC’s Jonah From Tonga program and the recent tsunami of criticism hurled at director Cameron Crowe for casting white-as-white-can-be Emma Stone as a half-Asian character in romantic comedy Aloha reminded film-makers of a pertinent message: the days when actors were afforded carte blanche to play whichever characters they like are over.
In this context, writer/director Rolf de Heer’s acclaimed 1998 drama Dance Me to My Song presents the fascinating possibility the debate could extend further than race and into other areas such as disability. An achingly genuine and profoundly moving drama about a woman born with cerebral palsy, the film was based on a fictitious screenplay that nevertheless closely mirrors the experiences of its star and co-writer Heather Rose,...
The panning last year of Chris Lilley’s “brownface” in the ABC’s Jonah From Tonga program and the recent tsunami of criticism hurled at director Cameron Crowe for casting white-as-white-can-be Emma Stone as a half-Asian character in romantic comedy Aloha reminded film-makers of a pertinent message: the days when actors were afforded carte blanche to play whichever characters they like are over.
In this context, writer/director Rolf de Heer’s acclaimed 1998 drama Dance Me to My Song presents the fascinating possibility the debate could extend further than race and into other areas such as disability. An achingly genuine and profoundly moving drama about a woman born with cerebral palsy, the film was based on a fictitious screenplay that nevertheless closely mirrors the experiences of its star and co-writer Heather Rose,...
- 7/19/2015
- by Luke Buckmaster
- The Guardian - Film News
A painfully graphic story of an invalid woman unable to talk or move out of a wheelchair, this Cannes Competition entrant is an unsparingly descriptive but wondrously uplifting story.
Ultimately, it's a rapturous movie experience as we come to marvel at the survivalist spirit of this severely disabled woman.
"Dance Me to My Song" undeniably presents a distribution challenge, but this glorious movie will ultimately move mature audiences in the same way "Shine" did. A savvy distributor will reap handsome rewards for this film, which is likely to garner positive attention wherever it plays.
You think you've got problems -- too many sales meetings, bar tabs at the Majestic too high, not enough hours to get to that party at Cap d'Antibes? Well, you're not bedridden with little control of your bodily functions, and people don't look at you as if you're some sort of object or animal.
That's the plight of Julia (Heather Rose), who is a prisoner of her own body and at the mercy of the care and kindness of others. Unfortunately, her caretaker, Madelaine (Joey Kennedy), has no kindness or mercy. She's a bitter, man-starved creep who blames Julia for all the sorry aspects of her own life. In essence, she's more of a jailer than a caregiver, and Julia must kowtow to her many moods and disorders.
Most horrifying about Julia's plight is that her poor body offers not only no defense against the onslaughts of cretins such as Julia but affords her no assistance in winning the affection of other, kinder souls. In short, she is not able to use personal or social skills in any way to cultivate friendship or love with others. At best, she can only hope that people are not revolted by her disability. That there is a vital, loving and remarkable human being contained in her wretched, deformed body is lost on all but the most sensitive souls.
In this splendid, humane story, Julia's inner essence is magically revealed: We soon see that she is funny, feisty and giving. To their credit, screenwriters Rose, Frederick Stahl and Rolf de Heer never resort to simplistic, saccharine, disease-of-the-week histrionics. They present Julia in a natural way, never glorifying her being disabled and thus never condescending to reducing her to an inspirational type. We see her most glaring warts and most hidden virtues in this intelligent, respectful script.
De Heer's direction is powerful throughout in its spare discipline. Less is more here; to his credit, de Heer never resorts to maudlin aesthetics or cheap histrionics. As such, the film packs more emotional wallop than a more manipulative melodramatic interpretation would have rendered. Credit the fine technical team, most prominently art director Beverly Freeman for the precise but powerful imagery.
Drawing on her own life as a woman handicapped by a physical disability, Rose is enormously moving as Julia, showing us the depths and peaks of this woman's essential being. As her sadistic caretaker, Kennedy not only clues us to her character's shallowness but, quite remarkably, makes us aware of her own burdens. John Brumpton is well-cast as Julia's loving suitor, conveying the strength of a gentle person and, by extension, embodying the kind strength of this remarkable film.
DANCE ME TO MY SONG
A Vertigo production
in association with Fandango Srl, Smile Production Srl and Intra Films
With the assistance of the South Australian Film Corp.
and the Australian Film Commission
Credits: Producers: Rolf de Heer, Guiseppe Pedersoli, Domenico Procacci; Director: Rolf de Heer; Screenwriters: Heather Rose, Frederick Stahl, Rolf de Heer; Co-producers: David Wolfe-Barry, Paola Corvino; Director of photography: Tony Clark; Editor: Tania Nehme; Music: Graham Tardif; Art director: Beverly Freeman. Cast: Heather Rose, Joey Kennedy, John Brumpton. No MPAA rating. Running time -- 102 minutes.
Ultimately, it's a rapturous movie experience as we come to marvel at the survivalist spirit of this severely disabled woman.
"Dance Me to My Song" undeniably presents a distribution challenge, but this glorious movie will ultimately move mature audiences in the same way "Shine" did. A savvy distributor will reap handsome rewards for this film, which is likely to garner positive attention wherever it plays.
You think you've got problems -- too many sales meetings, bar tabs at the Majestic too high, not enough hours to get to that party at Cap d'Antibes? Well, you're not bedridden with little control of your bodily functions, and people don't look at you as if you're some sort of object or animal.
That's the plight of Julia (Heather Rose), who is a prisoner of her own body and at the mercy of the care and kindness of others. Unfortunately, her caretaker, Madelaine (Joey Kennedy), has no kindness or mercy. She's a bitter, man-starved creep who blames Julia for all the sorry aspects of her own life. In essence, she's more of a jailer than a caregiver, and Julia must kowtow to her many moods and disorders.
Most horrifying about Julia's plight is that her poor body offers not only no defense against the onslaughts of cretins such as Julia but affords her no assistance in winning the affection of other, kinder souls. In short, she is not able to use personal or social skills in any way to cultivate friendship or love with others. At best, she can only hope that people are not revolted by her disability. That there is a vital, loving and remarkable human being contained in her wretched, deformed body is lost on all but the most sensitive souls.
In this splendid, humane story, Julia's inner essence is magically revealed: We soon see that she is funny, feisty and giving. To their credit, screenwriters Rose, Frederick Stahl and Rolf de Heer never resort to simplistic, saccharine, disease-of-the-week histrionics. They present Julia in a natural way, never glorifying her being disabled and thus never condescending to reducing her to an inspirational type. We see her most glaring warts and most hidden virtues in this intelligent, respectful script.
De Heer's direction is powerful throughout in its spare discipline. Less is more here; to his credit, de Heer never resorts to maudlin aesthetics or cheap histrionics. As such, the film packs more emotional wallop than a more manipulative melodramatic interpretation would have rendered. Credit the fine technical team, most prominently art director Beverly Freeman for the precise but powerful imagery.
Drawing on her own life as a woman handicapped by a physical disability, Rose is enormously moving as Julia, showing us the depths and peaks of this woman's essential being. As her sadistic caretaker, Kennedy not only clues us to her character's shallowness but, quite remarkably, makes us aware of her own burdens. John Brumpton is well-cast as Julia's loving suitor, conveying the strength of a gentle person and, by extension, embodying the kind strength of this remarkable film.
DANCE ME TO MY SONG
A Vertigo production
in association with Fandango Srl, Smile Production Srl and Intra Films
With the assistance of the South Australian Film Corp.
and the Australian Film Commission
Credits: Producers: Rolf de Heer, Guiseppe Pedersoli, Domenico Procacci; Director: Rolf de Heer; Screenwriters: Heather Rose, Frederick Stahl, Rolf de Heer; Co-producers: David Wolfe-Barry, Paola Corvino; Director of photography: Tony Clark; Editor: Tania Nehme; Music: Graham Tardif; Art director: Beverly Freeman. Cast: Heather Rose, Joey Kennedy, John Brumpton. No MPAA rating. Running time -- 102 minutes.
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