As performed by “Exhumation” on the album “For Personal Consumption Only”
Some years ago, I read ‘The Fatal Shore’, Robert Hughes’ seminal work on the establishment of the penal colonies that came to be called Australia. It was a remarkable piece of literature, one gathered from the historical record, and tracing the journey of convicts and other undesirables from the zealous assizes and overflowing prisons of the Old Country to the newly discovered land in the nether regions of the world. The inhuman conditions of transport, first encounters with the aboriginal natives, the terms set for ones freedom, folk tales and legends – ‘The Fatal Shore’ gave a succinct picture of the evolution of the fiercely independent, competitive, and often misunderstood, Australian character.
Jonathan auf der Heide shows a huge Terrence Malick and Herzog influence here. The wide screen, lingering and contemplative shots of the forest canopy, the dependence on monologue as a tool for examining conscience, the sounds of nature, etc – he has obviously studied Malick’s work, especially The Thin Red Line. Van Diemen’s Land is stark, repressive but never anything other than beautiful to look at. auf der Heide doesn’t take the movie’s grim subject matter as a warrant for exploitation; there are few, if any, explicit images of cannibalism. To an extent, it deprives the movie of a certain visceral punch. But I can gel with the director’s mindset.It’s enough to put a man off meat, I swear. After the Z Machine gig two weeks back, a friend and I were ravenous and took a detour on the way back home and stopped at a roadside stall near Bandra Station at 2 a.m. We were delighted to find only organ meats being served and ordered a plate of every thing. It’s not a big deal; I’ve enjoyed eating liver (mutton better than chicken), have had ribs, skin, gizzard, udders, and even brains. This time though, I don’t know what went wrong. Neither my friend nor I could take more than a bite of the liver. We made faces while tasting the kidney and spat out the tongue. My pal refused to pay and staged a walkout when I jokingly asked if he wanted to taste goat testicles. I have no beef with organ-eaters, but there’s no way I can stomach the damn stuff anymore. Karela and baingan, please.
(No pics have been published here out of consideration for my vegetarian readers)