GRAEME ISAAC INTERVIEW TRANSCRIPTION:
CO-PRODUCER OF WRONG SIDE OF THE ROAD  

SEPTEMBER 2000

J:  When did you first become interested in making films?

G:  Well, Wrong Side of the Road was the first film that I produced, or was involved in the production of.  My background prior to that had been more in theatre and in music.  I’d worked with the Australian Performing Group in Melbourne in the early 70s, and I was involved with Circus Oz in its early years.  And I used to play in various bands around Melbourne, including Matchbox, Captain Matchbox.  I had done a little bit of work… acted in a rather hammy fashion in a couple of films, and done a little bit of soundtrack music, but no sort of mainstream involvement.  And then I’d been teaching for a year in Adelaide at an Aboriginal music school, where the bands that were in WSOTR formed.  I started to become frustrated with the difficulties raising money for recording.  At that time the Aboriginal arts board was still under white control, and really the main focus of the arts board was in merchandising Aboriginal artists to a white audience.  All traditional artists -they didn’t see much scope for supporting the contemporary Aboriginal arts. The various record companies that we went to put up a little bit of money for demo recording, but basically were balking at the idea of putting any major money into a project where they had to merchandise a black band to a white audience in Australia.  And they were quite open about the fact that that was their nervousness.  So it was out of frustration from that that the idea for the film sort of grew, and I had known Ned Lander, the director and co-producer, some years before in Melbourne.  We’d worked together on a couple of things.  He was just out of film school and working on a documentary – an Aboriginal documentary up north to do with uranium mining.

 J:  Okay, that would have been Dirt Cheap?

 G:  That was Dirt Cheap, that’s right.  So I rang him and played him some of the music over the phone, and said, look this is all pretty exciting, you’d better come down.  And it was exciting, because while there had been plenty of Aboriginal country bands and so forth, these bands that were forming at this music center in Adelaide were - to my knowledge anyway - the first Aboriginal bands that were writing in a contemporary style, and writing original songs about their own lives and their own experiences.  I was helping them to organise these tours that were going up the west coast towards Western Australia, up to Ceduna on the edge of the desert country, and also up along the Murray.  It was really exciting to be a part of that because you just felt that you were a part of something that was really new and exciting and uplifting for all the people who were involved.  And also because there was this incredible connection between the music, the bands, and their audiences – you know, it all mattered somehow or another.  It felt engaging and involving, and you felt like the music mattered.  So Ned came over to Adelaide, and he became totally excited about it as I was, and so we just went from there.  The project started on a much smaller scale originally as a short film on 16mm, which we struggled to finance. 

 J:  Where did the funding for that come from?

 G: About half of it came from the Australian Film Commission, and the other half of it we were able to raise from private sources.  The Film Commission had been a little bit nervous about it in the beginning, because it was a style of film that had not really been made in Australia before, and hasn’t been made much since, although it’s quite common overseas – where there is some sort of intersection between documentary and drama, where you have people who are actually acting, but they’re playing out their own experiences, experiences from their own lives, or the lives of their family and friends.  There were very few professional actors – a couple of the white roles - but apart from that, certainly all of the Aboriginal people in the film – it was the first film with a principally Aboriginal cast, and they were not experienced actors.  The funding body sort of looked at it, and said “well it all looks very interesting, but who’s going to play the part of the people in the film?”.  We said they’re going to play themselves, and there was a bit of concern.  But anyway, we managed to get it going, but then during the production, the course of the production, we managed to convince our supporters to let us shoot the budget out and go to feature length.  And eventually we were able to blow up to 35mm.  So the project sort of grew during the process.  There was a little bit more elbow room in those days.  The industry has become a lot more regulated, professionalised and everything now.  That’s been to its advantage in certain aspects, but it’s also been a disadvantage in others.  It’s [now] very hard to break through in that sort of way, in the way that we were able to then.  You know, to do something that was very new, and very different. 

J:  Talking about the actors, and the way that you had non-professionals playing most of those roles… how do you think the way the script was written helped those roles? 

G:  Well… firstly, the story was based on reality.  There were two bands, and in fact there were more than two bands from this music center that were going out and doing these tours.  And so the film is basically based on what was happening at the time, with the two bands on the road.  All of the other threads in the story, for instance the thread of Les the guitarist of No Fixed Address looking for his Aboriginal family, the guy who had been fostered out, trying to track down his Aboriginal ancestry – that wasn’t Les’ story, that wasn’t Les’ situation at all - but the guy who was the roadie for the band at the time was going through exactly that same thing.  That was a common story for them, and it’s become a higher profile issue now with all of the stolen generation stuff.  But you know, it was all still happening then of course.  And so even though it wasn’t Les’s story, we decided that the guy who was going through this couldn’t really do it on screen, and so Les would do it.  So firstly the script was based on the reality of the lives of those who played in the film.  And secondly, whilst we had a script that was largely scene-by-scene scripted - fully scripted with dialogue - there were very few scenes where people actually learnt lines and said the same thing in each take.  Basically, we took the action of the scene, and would play the action of the scene, and they brought their own dialogue to it.  So if you like, there was a level of improvisation, but improvisation within a framework, and a basis of reality.  And that’s why the film, scene for scene, has got a sort of documentary feeling to it, it feels like it’s really happening.  It’s because of that.  Although in fact, the coverage was drama style coverage, even though a certain amount of the material was hand-held.  We would stop the scene, we’d stop the shot, or we’d move the camera, and we’d play the same scene again, or we’d play a portion again.  So if you like, it used a combination of documentary and dramatic techniques in order to achieve its end. 

J:  When I spoke to Ned, he mentioned that that was partly because of a credibility issue.  He said that there were credibility problems with the story, and obviously there was some backlash to the film, from people that though that it exaggerated…

G:  …It would have to be defensible.  At the time, a number of the things the film was asserting were very controversial.  I mean, it was not controversial for anyone in the Aboriginal community or anyone who has hung around with Aboriginal people, but in terms of the mainstream media, many of the assertions of the film were going to be seen as controversial.  So we felt the film had to be defensible. 

J:  What did you think about the backlash that the film got when it was released? 

 G:  Well, I don’t know that there was that big a backlash.  There was certainly a lot of critical commentary, there was a lot written about the film, an enormous amount.  Mostly it was very supportive.  The Police Association in South Australia weren’t very happy with the film.  We managed to get their cooperation to shoot, but they weren’t too happy afterwards, and several of the guys in the bands got roughed up.   One got his arm broken. But in terms of the mainstream media response, the response to the film was pretty positive.  Within the film world, certainly the response to the film was very warm - it was a total surprise, it was a style of project that had come from nowhere, and it dealt with a subject that no one had really stopped to think about much.  It came from sort of nowhere, and was nominated as Best Film in the AFI awards that year, and it was sort of the “little Aussie battler” film up against Gallipoli – in fact it was made probably on the catering budget of Gallipoli. So it was very warmly received within the film world.

 J:  And of course it won the 1981 Jury Prize.

 G:  Yeah.

 J:  How did it feel getting that sort of recognition?

 G:  Oh, well it was fantastic.  But I think that in reality it was a recognition of the courage of the cast, of the people involved, and it was a feeling of sort of empathy that engendered the recognition.  Oh well, I suppose it was partly that and partly to do with the film itself.  It’s hard to know.  There’s a sort of a looseness to the film, in terms of it’s narrative structure, and the fact that it has so many characters in there, so many main characters, was always going to make it a difficult film in terms of it how effectively it could work as entertainment in conventional terms. It would have been so much simpler to make a road movie with one band. You could have got really involved in the characters and so forth, but the thing is that we felt there was two bands happening in this situation, and there had to be two bands in the film, because the whole basis, the whole credibility of the film rested in the feeling of veracity and being real.  We had to go for that, and we had to represent that, particularly because it was the first film with an all black cast, the first film like this being made in Australia.  Therefore there was a lot of pressure on it to carry certain sorts of political messages and to refer to a wide range of issues that were facing the black community.  In a sense you could say that that may have to some degree compromised the dramatic effectiveness of the film, but on the other hand it sort of provided the film with a lot of its strength and integrity.  I still couldn’t really tell you to what degree the response to the film was a response to the issues that the film raised as opposed to the artistic or creative elements involved in the film itself. 

 J:  Talking about the amount of characters in the film, I find the pace very natural, there’s one period in the film in particular, in the middle, where it feels like we’re sort of drifting around, following the various characters who are also drifting.  Can you tell us a little about the pace, and I guess the way the film was edited to get that feel as well?

 G:  I think it’s one of those things that… it’s not that we sort of deliberately set out to do that.  I think that what we decided was that the most important thing we wanted to do with the film was to have the audience feel that they were with those characters, and they were sharing their lives and their journey.  The fact that their journey is a discursive one, that they stop here and there and wander round, that was to do with their lives, so the audience got to share that.  So the pace of the editing and so forth was partly sort of a function of that.  I think you’re referring to a scene around the middle of the film where there’s a party?

 J:  And also the scenes on the land, and the flashbacks and so on.

 G:  Yeah, that’s around the same sort of area I think.  There’s one band that end up at that party, and then there’s another carload of people that are on a beach somewhere.

 J:  That’s right.  When the film came out, it was described in many different ways.  How would you describe the film?

 G:  I’m not quite sure how to put a label on it.  Do you mean…

 J:  …I mean… I know it was described as a road movie, a rock film, a revolutionary film… it had so many different characteristics ascribed to it.  I’m just thinking how would you describe the film yourself? 

 G:  Well, the byline to the title was “48 hours on our side of town”, and I suppose that was really what we wanted to do with the film, we wanted to take an audience, principally a white audience, onto the other side of the road for a while.  And just to have them share in the day-to-day experiences of a group of young black Australians.  And I think the film was able to do that.  And of course for black Australians, I think the film was sort of treated as an affirmation.  It didn’t tell them anything new, but it was an affirmation for them, it was saying I guess, well this is true, we do have these experiences, and this is what it’s like for us.  And we have fun as well as having these problems and difficulties we have to overcome.  The other fantastic experience with the film that I had was having the opportunity to see it in the bush, and also hear about other screenings in remote areas - where Aboriginal people still living closer to a tribal style of life with their cultural traditions intact, watched the film as a sort of story about their families in the city.  So I suppose for them the film did carry something new in a sense that it brought immediacy to that experience they knew about only anecdotally because it wasn’t theirs. 

 J:  Well how did you feel as a white man making a film about the black experience like this? 

 G:  Well I don’t know that I stopped to think about it too much.  Prior to going to Adelaide and starting work at this Aboriginal music school, I’d had very little contact with Aboriginal people, as you do if you’re brought up in Melbourne as I was, or in Sydney, or anywhere else – that’s part of the difficulty, it’s that thing of ignorance, that most white Australians have very little to do with Aboriginal people, so they don’t have that personal contact.  But I didn’t feel a barrier or a problem.  I suppose the one thing that I was aware of was - the difference in my situation was that I had chosen to step into that world and become part of it, but I would always have the option to step out.  So even though I was very close to the guys in those bands, and we played together and toured together and did all sorts of things together, I always knew that I was able to step out of that world if I chose to.  So there was always that difference.  But I think… my experience with them, and my subsequent experience with Aboriginal people in other situations, has made me feel that you’re accepted as a white person for who you are inside yourself, and for what you do. So I didn’t really have a difficulty in that sense.  And the other thing was, that the whole basis of Wrong Side of the Road was that it was about these two bands, it was providing a platform for their music, and for them.  So, whilst Ned and I were sort of building this platform, and constructing a vehicle for them, it was theirs in the sense that it was their songs, their expressions, their statements, rather than ours.  So I didn’t feel that I was in the situation of speaking for them, which I of course couldn’t, rather that Ned and I were helping to create an opportunity for them to speak out more loudly to a broader public. 

 J:  Well how much of a role did you play in regards to the way that the bands music was used in the film?  I mean, I guess you sort of discovered the bands in that sense…

 G:  I didn’t discover them, they sort of formed or came to this music…  there was this music center in Adelaide, and it was affiliated with Adelaide University, it was a little building with salt-damp on the edge of the University, and at the time that I came there it was basically being used by the University as a fishbowl for their musicology students.  There were Pitjanjajara tribal elders who used to come down from Indulkana south of Alice Springs, men and women who would teach their traditional singing, traditional music.  Not their serious songs, which are only for initiated people - so I suppose what they were doing was teaching nursery rhymes.  Nevertheless they were teaching the urban Aboriginal students this material, and white ethno-musicology students from the University would come and sit in on these sessions.  That was the principle interest of the University in the organization at that time, in the music school, which was called CASM – Center for Aboriginal Studies in Music.  The university wasn’t really interested in it as an ongoing educational musical institution for the Aboriginal community in Adelaide, and its resources were very scant.  But there was a guy named Leigh Hobber who taught there in the year prior to me, and he’d been able to get the beginnings of some electric instruments in there, a drum kit, and an amplifier.  When I came I was able to help build on that, and one band formed, which was No Fixed Address.  And as soon as they went out and started playing publicly, at the Aboriginal football club dance, or at various social events within the black community in Adelaide, as soon as they started to perform publicly, there were all these young guys (mainly, there were some girls as well) knocking on the door of this place saying they wanted to come and study there and enroll as students.  Even though the facilities were very poor and there weren’t a lot of incentives, it was an opportunity to get access to equipment, and to be able to play.  And the guys from Us Mob all arrived as a result of that, and Us Mob was then formed during the course of that year.  And Coloured Stone was as well, and interestingly enough, they’re the band out of the three of them, that are still on the road.  They’ve played solidly for 20 years.  Although at the time we made the film things were a bit shakey within the band, and they weren’t fully able to function.  But the situation for them was, as young musicians, it was hard for them to get a hold of gear, they couldn’t get hire/purchase amplifiers or guitars easily because they were Aboriginal, it was hard to find somewhere to practice where they wouldn’t be hassled.  So that’s why they came along.  When they started to play there were three bands playing, and the music started to be recorded and circulate, and really it was a major part of that rebirth or birth of contemporary black music in the country.  There had been other black bands playing around the place, but mostly they were playing covers or playing country and western.  I don’t know of any full-bore black rock’n’roll bands that had been writing their own stuff about their own lives; that had been playing anywhere else.  One of the most popular songs was “We Have Survived’, the No Fixed Address song, which became a key song to the film, and in fact that became sort of the slogan of the land rights movement – certainly in the eighties.  That whole sort of notion of survival against all odds.  So, really a lot came out of it. 

 J:  Yeah, well that’s actually how I got interested in the film, I’m actually a reggae fan; so I’ve sort of have to ask this question – do you have any thoughts on the way reggae music is used in the film?

 G:  How do you mean the way that it’s used?

 J:  I guess the fact that it is reggae that they’re playing at times.  Us Mob not so much, more No Fixed Address…

 G:  It’s just that that was the music that those guys were drawn to.  The most dynamic person in the band was the drummer Bart Willoughby, and he had a natural feel for reggae.  They were pretty young, those guys, when they started to play. They were 15 or 16.  And they weren’t all steeped in reggae, but Bart really liked it, and he was the one who was doing most of the early writing – well there was Bart and there was Ricky Harrison.  And one of Ricky’s first songs was a reggae song… but others weren’t.  Bart’s songs were all sort of in a reggae style, and the audience responded to it, and they recognized it as something different, and somehow or other the sound that popped out when they played reggae was different.  It was fresh, and it was new, and it wasn’t different out of artifice or because they decided to make it different, but because they couldn’t help but do it their way, and that made it different, because of their youth and so on.  Bart’s flair as a drummer – he’s very gifted and he always had played almost as his own percussionist as well - if you listen to especially those early recordings, it’s like a drummer and percussionist playing together – and if you put that together with the simplicity of the bassline (the bass player was very young, he was only 15 at the time, and really had just taken the bass up) – I don’t know they just sort of fell into this groove, and people responded to it, and recognized it as something fresh and new.  They got a lot of interest in Adelaide from local radio stations, and started building up a white following as well as a black following in Adelaide.  And it just sort of grew that way.  There were two bands in the film – one was a reggae band, and one was this heavy rock band.  So the music in the film is a combination of both.  I was going to say fusion, but it’s not fused together.  You follow the two bands on the road, and depending on who you’re with, you get one sort of music or the other. 

 J:  Yeah, I guess the members are mixed up to a degree, but the music is still quite separate. 

 G:  Yeah.

 J:  How do you think about the film now, 20 years down the track?  Do you regard it any differently, or think about it any differently?

 G:  No, not really.  For me it was sort of an intense and very exciting period of my life, and I get a good feeling when I think about the film, and it brings those memories back to me.  I’m sort of gratified by the fact that the film still seems to hold together as a film that works; it hasn’t been dimmed by the passage of time, and I think that’s because it feels real.   I think it’s because of the qualities that it had at the time, that attracted it a lot of attention – that it felt like it was coming from a real time and place and telling you something about these people’s lives and sort of bringing you into it.  So I think the film was effective that way, and it’s still there, and it seems that the issues of the film are as alive and relevant as ever. 

 J:   I guess they are just as relevant today – have you ever thought about giving the film a proper re-release for modern audiences?

 G:  Well, if there was a distributor who was prepared to take it up and put some money into it and do that, that would be great.  It has been screened a lot on television; the ABC have licensed it a number of times, two or maybe even three; it’s been screened on Channel 7 certain states; I think it may have been screened by SBS as well.  It ran again as a special on the ABC a couple of months ago, and in fact it’s going to run again in maybe six months time.  The Australian Film Commision is putting together a package of films that they were involved in that they regard as historic films, and that’s going to be one of them.  So the film is still alive, it still goes out to an audience, and it still screens regularly out in the bush or in Aboriginal communities.  It’s actually had a very long and active festival life as well.  It’s probably been, in terms of Australian films going to international festivals, one of the most traveled Australian films now overseas in terms of its festival exposure.  And it still goes out now and again to different festivals overseas.  So that’s sort of gratifying, to feel that the film is still alive like that after 20 years, because of course most films aren’t.  The one thing that I do feel sad about sometimes is that so many of the people in the film are dead and passed on.  A number of the younger people; people in the bands.  That’s sort of a reflection of some of the issues that the film raises itself.  Sometimes Ned and I have thought about whether to do a documentary, or whether to do something in relation to looking back at the film, or what’s happened to all the people that were in it.   I’m saddened by the reality of that, and neither of us really know how to deal with it, and whenever we speak to – I know I have this experience, and I’m sure Ned has – if we speak for instance to Auntie Vonnie, one of the elder Aboriginal women in the film, or sometimes to one or two of the other guys, that’s often something that’s mentioned.