Danny Deckchair – “d’yuh see it, mate?”

Proving more is not better, Rhys Ifans – the Welsh git in Notting Hill- stars in this Australian TV film that works - Deck Chair Danny directed by Jeff Balsmeyer. This is not a genre I usually get on with – the American equivalent where everything is perfect where there is no peeling paintwork on the screen door – no rusting barbie in the yard - no ordinary people next door, Australian TV films seem to do it better somehow.

I think it’s because they leave the semiotics – the non-verbal language of the sign - to the viewer. American film producers try too hard to get it right and in getting it too right, get it all wrong. I don’t want to see immaculately coiffured, already belipsticked people just getting out of bed – not a tussled hair out of place. I want more of how it is first thing in a morning – an unconscious smear of toothpaste on the top lip – that kind of thing.

If the tussling is done by the hairdresser, you can tell it’s designer tussled – that’s how American TV films feel – this was different.

A crazy plot – an unlikely flying deck chair (actually it wasn’t a deckchair at all, but a tatty garden variety) that flies once enough balloons are attached, and Danny leaves his regular life and gets a whole new one two blocks over.

I like to be given the chance to suspend my disbelief willingly – rather than having it taken from me – that’s the American way. The Australian way lets you in to construct part of the meaning – it’s a more socializing event altogether.

The characters help too, you don’t have anything done for you – it’s there; men with brewer’s goiters, mutton trying to look like lamb, cross sections of communities – paparazzi photogs, local losers, manhunters, and Rhys doing what he does best – mistaking mayonnaise for yoghurt – or was that Notting Hill. See, British producers can do it too.

Rhys flying over the Melbourne suburbs was so obviously computer generated that it was fun – it wasn’t overgood.
“It’s obvious, let’s make it look ******** obvious,” you can almost hear the producer bellowing through his cheap loud hailer.

The malevolent, jealous cop never really succeeds, like jealous cops everywhere, I suppose – the sub plot doesn’t take over at any point – a bit unlike reality, but you can’t show everything that could happen. That’s why I enjoyed it.
Robert L. Fielding