The Sapphires

Column: The Word on Films | Date Published: Tuesday, 14 August 12 | Author: Melissa Wellham | 9 months, 2 weeks ago

The Sapphires could be a fun, superficial story filled with show-stopping numbers and there would be nothing wrong with that. However, director Wayne Blaire has managed to combine the fun, show-stopping stuff with serious themes – racism, oppression, war – and that’s what lifts The Sapphires a step above.

Inspired by a true story, The Sapphires follows four talented, driven and vivacious Indigenous girls who form a soul group and are selected to travel overseas to entertain the US troops during the Vietnam war. Gail (Deborah Mailman), Julie (Jessica Mauboy), Cynthia (Miranda Tapsell) and Kay (Shari Sebbens) convince something-of-a-deadbeat-but-genuinely-good-guy Dave (Chris O’Dowd) to become their manager and set off overseas to learn life lessons – jazzed up by some sweet Motown tunes.

The film takes a while to hit its stride – but once it does, it’s an all-singing all-dancing emotionally-affecting extravaganza. The film attempts to cover a lot of ground – the stolen generation (which many would like to believe is a distant part of Australian history but, as the film rightly points out, continued into the ‘60s), the issue of ‘am I black enough for you?’ re. Anita Heiss, as well as racism more generally – and it’s thanks to a neat and nimble script that it doesn’t falter.

Plus, the girls can sing. The Sapphires is yet another great Australian film released in recent months. Here’s to many more.

	Magic Mike: Magic Mike isn’t as bad as you are undoubtedly assuming it is – and not in that, ‘I’m going to go out for cocktails and then seeing it with my girlfriends and ogle Channing Tatum’s chest! Woo, ladeeeez!’ kind of way. Mike (Channing Tatum) gets his kit off on weekends and shakes his booty with the goal of saving enough money to open his own furniture design business. He introduces his new friend Adam, aka The Kid, to the world of stripping and the film follows the two protagonists through emotional journeys and buttocks-heavy dance routines alike. The cast is rounded out by the seedy, sweaty and shiny ringleader Dallas (Matthew McConaughey), Big Dick Richie (Joe Manganiello from True Blood) and a few other overly-muscled men in arse-less chaps. The reason this film isn’t as bad as it could be – including necessary film devices such as plot and believable dialogue – is thanks to director Steven Soderbergh, the guy behind Contagion, Erin Brokovich, Ocean’s Eleven, etc. Under his deft direction (and commitment to doing more than merely showcase men in g-strings dancing to bad music), Tatum and McConaughey turn in subtle performances (which are over-the-top only where necessary). I don’t even think Tatum is worthy of heartthrob status and I think McConaughey is just about the most repulsive person on the planet and I still enjoyed this film. That should tell you something.

	Step Up 4: Miami Heat: I spent the opening 20 or so minutes of Step Up 4 snickering into my chocolate milk and feeling superior. What ridiculous acting! What a stupid script! I was confident I would come out with tons of material for a scathing review. After a couple of dance routines, though, I was feeling genuinely entertained – the dance numbers are pretty effing cool. Even though the love story is a snore (no one talks with their faces that close together when they’ve just met!) and the plot formulaic, we’re not there for that, are we? We’re there for krumping and pop-locking! Events centre around a gang of flash-mobbers who regularly engage in dance spectacles around Miami and even though said flash mobs are ridiculously elaborate, you kind of just go along with it. There’s also the rich girl/local boy subplot and some other unimaginative storylines – but, as I said, we’re not there for emotional resonance. I didn’t see this in 3D, mainly because I didn’t need to see sweat flying at me as though in real life, but there is plenty of gyrating, some lovely contemporary dance, and zippy routines propelling Step Up 4. By the end, I was taking the plot with a grain of salt and enjoying the balls-out dancing. It’s hardly high art and pretty corny in some parts, but Step Up 4 is a vehicle for dancing – and it’s delightfully unashamed of it.