On set

This is me posing with a cab which will feature in the next scene. I needn't have bothered with the mascara as I didn't take off my sunglasses as the glare of the sun was intense. And sadly David Wenham wasn't on set to notice whether I was wearing mascara or not.

  

Even though we were later told we were not allowed to take any photos of the stars we got a quick picture of these lovely young people. They play two feral shooters in the show. They were so respectful of Dad's book and so dedicated to their craft.

    

This Helen Bowden, one of the producers during lunch break.

And here is Kristian Moliere, the other producer. Everyone was so welcoming and happy to have us share this production day.

Blocking the scene.

Paul and me sharing a joke with Kristian.

We were not allowed to take photos of the stars but I thought it would be o.k. if I shot the monitor. Sean Keenan did a handstand before each take. He wanted to have the reddened face that he would have had if he had been John Grant staggering drunkenly down the baking hot street.

I felt a shiver of excitement every time the clapper identified a new scene. I felt Dad looking over my shoulder as he sat there watching the fruits of his labour unfold with a new identity. The same but different.

The day's call sheet.

They said we couldn't shoot the stars but I thought it was alright to photograph the dead lizard which has quite a prominent role in the story.

 

And this is Mrs Peters an extra in the film. She was amazing in the fact that she had also been an extra in the original film. She and her husband were Rotarians and pillars of the Broken Hill community. They were almost ostracised when the film premiered all those years ago. But she was up for one last go. Hopefully the town will be kinder this time round.

 

We left the film set and returned to town to visit the Regional Art Gallery which was a marvellous old building full of wonderful works of art. That is another thing about Broken Hill, amongst the strange little square homes which dotted the outskirts of town were wonderful old buildings. Legacies of a more booming time. Most of them were pubs.

But the reason I took a photo of this little sugar glider was not because of its beauty but because it reminded me of a picture that my sister Megan painted long ago. Only hers was better. Meg would have loved to have been part of this pilgrimage, as would Ant.

 

This poster was in a front window of a shop in Argent Street, the Main Street of Broken Hill.

And this is a final shot of our last night in Broken Hill. A journey full of memories, fragments from a special shiny past. We have the promise of a new beginning with this new rendition of Wake in Fright and at the same time we can look back on something special. Life with Dad was unique. Thanks for the legacy you left us with, Dad.

Return trip to Broken Hill and a cracking sunset

    

  

Packing up the camp and dousing the last of the fire.

Intrepid explorers on the lookout for wild life.

A little bit of heaven. The outback is a strange place. At times it is so serene and spiritual and at others it is menacing and alienating.

A lot of the water holes had these thin spindly twigs reaching up to the sky. All sorts of water birds swoop and soar in the pellucid blue that stretches on forever. That is another thing about this country - it is vast beyond comprehension. We are just here for a few days and in the cool season. What must it have been like for those early explorers who struggled out here in all seasons for months on end? And what a bitter and lonely death it would have been for many of them. Even from our pampered perspective the dry atmosphere takes its toll. Our lips are cracked, our eyes are dry and our nostrils feel clogged with fine dust.

 Paul bet me that I wouldn't go into the water at Lake Pamaroo. My competitive spirit kicked in.

Here I am channeling my inner Wake in Fright. I am in awe of how my father effortlessly captured the very essence of this country in a few sparse words. I am very proud of my old man and very pleased we decided to embark on this nostalgic journey. It has given Paul and me the chance for mutual reminiscences. A time for us to remember our young selves basking in the light of our charismatic father.

Sunset at the Living Desert and Sculpture Park. At the top of a hill just outside Broken Hill sit twelve glorious sculptures carved from sandstone from Wilcannia. Even without the sunset these massive edifices were balm for the soul.

 

Beer, art,companionship and nature. What more could you ask for?

Slightly surreal nightscape as we head back to town for dinner at the Palace Hotel where we ate another hearty meal. Quite a few of the cast and crew from Wake in Fright were relaxing over a quiet beer in the main bar. We said goodnight as we adjourned back to the comforts of the Eumundi Tramway cottage which is our home away from home. And so one last sleep before we go on set and meet the actors and have some publicity photos taken with the stars. In anticipation I made a quick trip to Big W to buy some mascara.

A bit of magic

The desert after rain

Meeting the crew and back on the road

We had planned for an early start from Broken Hill for our camping trip at Menindee, two hours south of Broken Hill but a phone call from the P.R. lady for Wake in Fright changed our plans. We drove to South Broken Hill to watch a scene being shot. We were greeted with great friendliness by the producers Helen Bowden and Kristian Moliere. The director Kriv Stenders briefly turned away from the field monitors to say hello. We then watched three takes with Sean Keenan and Gary Sweet outside the Bundanyabba Arms. It was wonderful but freezing cold. I felt sorry for the actors who were dressed for summer.

Here we are with Kris.

And here is the wonderfully recreated sign for the Bundanyabba Arms. It was authenticity aged, after an hour or so we said goodbye and stopped for coffee at Bells Cafe - an amazing old original fifties milk bar.

And then we truly did set off for our camping trip. We stopped just outside the Kinchega National Park to watch these emus and kangaroos just beyond a sea of tiny pink flowers. Magic. We are lucky to be visiting the outback after a lot of rain. The lakes are full and the foliage,  not exactly lush but very much alive.

Bird's nests.

Looking out from inside the Kinchega shearing shed - an old wooden building built in the 1880s

The spot we picked to set up camp. I even got a chance to do a spot of meditation in this beautiful, tranquil location.

Tina bringing out the makings of dinner. Peter slept in his van while the three of us shared a tent. Cozy.

A change of light. That is one thing that is almost a visceral presence out here. The landscape changes with the light. It is no wonder there are so many painters out in this part of the country.

Our nifty BBQ where we cooked up a mean steak to go with our red wine.

And then a lovely sunset followed by a spectacular night sky showcasing dazzling bright stars.