If you have any problems with my conduct anywhere on Public Address, please direct them to Russell.
I'm with Russell on this, but truly thanks for engaging and I do respect where you're coming from because hell... been there. But this is also one of those times where, you know, everyone's right. Womens Refuge isn't the problem here. This is one area where one size really doesn't fit all -- and there are people out there who are just as focused on meeting the very specific needs of male survivors of abuse. And just like WR, they really do deserve a hell of lot more support (and not just from government) than they get.
Fighting a pervasive and so often invisible culture of abuse shouldn't be a zero sum game, even though it so often seems that way.
I'm flattered, but also somewhat bemused, you think my superpower is bending any discussion among the habitually bloody-minded Public Address community to my will. But that's not the case, no matter how often I'd like it to be so.
Beyond that, I've precisely zero interest in playing dueling dictionaries, but I'll leave this from the online OED I've got open in the next door tab.
Originally and chiefly: the act or crime, committed by a man, of forcing a woman to have sexual intercourse with him against her will, esp. by means of threats or violence. In later use more generally: the act of forced, non-consenting, or illegal sexual intercourse with another person; sexual violation or assault.
I'm not terribly impressed with Anderson, The Press or Stuff right now. But I will do them the basic courtesy of assuming they're literate and have some feeling for common usage.
Jolisa was talking the other night of novels about soldiers in wartime. Can non-soldiers understand enough to write about the experience of fighting? Should they?
So should Gaylene Preston have ever made any films that didn’t draw from her direct experience – because with one wave of the hand you’ve wiped out her entire career as a director and producer. Including, by the way, the straight documentaries she made about the Napier Earthquake, the experiences of women (including her mother) during the Second World War and survivors of breast cancer.
I guess a key point here is that Hope and Wire isn’t quite fiction. It’s a fictionalised reconstruction. Would it be much without the stock footage?
Well, that's a fascinating question. Did you watch The Widower on One last night? Will be very interested to see the ratings, and how many people had absolutely no problem seeing a reconstruction of Malcom Webster's murder of his first wife and attempted murder of his second (who co-operated with the production) -- crimes he's IRL currently serving a life sentence for.
Coming from a master practitioner of the ‘excessive and gross analogy’
I find that rather rich.
I’ve seen many many television shows I didn’t like for all kinds of reasons.
And I’ve been raped.
One of these things is not even a little bit like the other.
And please feel free to denounce me as a crass and vulgar potty mouth -- wouldn't be the first time, and as often as not it's deserved. But I don't treat rape as a "joke" or some rhetorical flourish, and I really wish people would cut it the fuck out.
Later I showed the first episode of Hope and Wire to a colleague for his reaction.
“It’s like they are raping the city,” he said. “And what shocking acting. I’m off home now, I’ll wade through old-school stereotypes and several skirmishes with skinheads to get there.”
Sorry, Ian, I’ve emailed both Vicki and The Press to say I found that analogy not only grossly excessive, but downright offensive and tone deaf on the day Christchurch’s only rape crsis callout service closed. I don’t have words, only a rigidly extended middle finger.
You need to place it within the work of Gaylene (such as Home By Christmas) and other film-makers who deliberately re-work conventions of veracity, memory and authentication.
I get the context there, Geoff. I just don't think it does so in a particularly satisfying manner.
Do we really need an overpriced Auckland drama to tell the ChCh story?
Hear that noise? It’s everyone who’s ever worked in television in New Zealand ever laughing at the idea that local television drama is “overpriced”. For comparative purposes, the budget for six hours of Top of the Lake was over $15 million.
Considering I'm the house Tory around here, I know I should be bashing New Zealand on Air at every opportunity but I can't. For one, I don't have to like every show that gets funding to think it's incredibly important we don't leave local drama entirely to the tender mercies of the market. And nor am I inclined to apologize for the idea that people who work in the industry should actually be paid decently. If we can't be arsed doing that, then don't bother sneering at those who go to Australia (and England and the US) to work and make a decent living and don't come back.
Yeah, but it’s not just that: I wonder if there’s a demographic obligation that’s even stronger here than usual – you must show young people, old people, poor people, rich people, white people, brown people.
Which I would find entirely worthy, because, you know, diversity is just awesome. (And no, folks, I'm not being even a little bit sarcastic.) But you've got to take the next step beyond ticking off the demographic boxes and making them dramatically interesting characters. Sorry to pick on Joel Tobeck, but Greggo might as well have had I AM THE KING OF DOUCHEBAGISTAN tattooed on his forehead; and the rich white folks seem to have wandered in from Shortland Street (uptight prissy snob Mum, professionally and personally skeevy lawyer and slutty bitch teenager, and big bro you just know was doomed the fifth time his sister called him a retard).
Charicatures, cliches, terrible stilted dialogue. The precise moment I switched off was the use of the phrase “mega munted”. Wrong, just so wrong.
Thanks, Emma. I've tried to be really sensitive about being aware I'm watching this in a very different place from people in Christchurch for whom this is about their lived (and ongoing) experience. And, yeah, I always knew no matter who was involved Hope and Wire was inevitably going to be like tap-dancing across an emotional minefield while blindfolded and juggling a half-dozen chainsaws. It was never going to make everyone happy -- hell, there's a lot of people for whom, understandably, it would be unwatchable -- but too often it felt really "stagey" in the worse sense.
I also think Russell puts his finger on something here:
We are also seeing the pressures of publicly-funded drama in New Zealand, with beancounters asking “does it need all the earthquakes?” and, I suspect, a demand for storylines and characters that would engage a mainstream audience and tick demographic boxes.
Perhaps a little more trust in the emotional and artistic intelligence of that "mainstream audience" would be a good thing?