Topical, engaging, and ultimately disturbing, this 1988 drama is perhaps most memorable for its early cry, "The dingo took my baby!" Directed by Fred Schepisi, the film follows the Azaria Chamberlain case, in which the nine-week-old infant Azaria disappeared from a camp in the Australian wilderness. The extremes of temperatures in Outback summers as well as the nearby presence of wild dogs made baby Azaria's survival highly unlikely. Rather than focusing on the baby's horrific disappearance, the film dramatizes the efforts of her parents, Michael and Lindy, to prove their innocence in her presumed death.
The Chamberlains quickly become the targets of a spectacular criminal case that has the entire country enthralled. Salem goes to the Outback, you might say. Perhaps the catalyzing root of public frenzy stems from their religion: Michael (played by Sam Neill) is a Seventh-day Adventist pastor, and he relies heavily on theology to make sense of his daughter's death. Lindy (played by Oscar-nominee Meryl Streep) is particularly scrutinized, as her steely, stoic demeanor seems likely to hide murderous designs, and as she is the sole eyewitness to Azaria's disappearance. Rumors fly that Azaria's name, the vacation to the wilderness, and the Chamberlains' parenting methods are all a part of a cult ritual of child sacrifice. Of course, their religion is wildly misrepresented here, but the film bravely depicts the religious bigotry against the small Adventist population in Australia.
Streep plays Lindy with surprising nerve, successfully risking the audience's disapproval and suspicion. Amidst the media's campaign of malicious gossip, she remains aloof and cold. Even in private moments, potentially the opportunities for the film to make the character more sympathetic, Streep sticks to her guns: Lindy Chamberlain is not a very likeable woman. We, the audience, are forced into identifying more with the press and the public, whose outrageous accusations are infuriating, because we ourselves can't really defend Lindy's stoicism. We must consider the frightening, complicated likelihood that if Lindy acted how the public seemed to expect her to act, she may never have been seriously considered a suspect. Streep puts walls around herself that we cannot penetrate; the most emotion she shows is a deep hostility and even bitterness at being charged with murder.
Neill's performance follows her lead, as he plays Michael fighting with his own demons. During the trials, his faith in his religion is strained, and his trust in Lindy is severely shaken to the point that, during his testimony, he becomes confused and inadvertently suggests his wife's guilt. In this way, director Schepisi carefully indicts scapegoating, the press, and public opinion, especially in his approach at showing their devastating power in intimate, domestic relationships.
I mentioned above that we are almost manipulated into identifying with the press and the public in this film, and perhaps I should explore that now. Many critics have related the presence and influence of both the public and the press in this film to a Greek chorus. The sometimes funny, sad, or cacophonous sounds of these people help us to order our own opinions on the courtroom proceedings. Beyond an intellectual reaction to these voices, we also recognize our affiliation with them: We know these people. We know the conversations over pumping gas, in a barber shop, or whispered outside churches. We know the frustrations of people who don't care about the media as well as those that care too much. We know the woman who silences her gossiping guests by declaring she will not have another dinner party ruined by "those people," referring to the Chamberlains as if they orchestrated their own infamy.
Needless to say, this film is not a typical courtroom drama. Schepisi expertly controls the flow of evidence into the case, building a damning case against people we already believe are innocent (we see -- or think we see -- the dingo carrying off baby Azaria). His methodical overview of the case highlights the dangerously circumstantial evidence and the horrific strength of public opinion in a story that is ultimately not about guilt or innocence. Ending note: Don't think this film is an exercise in unhappiness. I realize I rather painted it that way, but I intended to discuss the elements that most got my mind going. The film ultimately ends happily. Well, as happily as it could have, considering the source material. The Chamberlains were exonerated of all charges two months before the release of this film (which was released as Evil Angels in Australia). But I think the story is no less tragic as a result.
You'll just have to watch and determine that for yourself.
IMDb: A Cry in the Dark
No comments:
Post a Comment