Going Down (1983): A Portrait of Feral Persistence

Going Down, director Haydn Keenan’s scrappy DIY debut feature, is a feverish portrait of early 1980s Sydney and its chaotic punk underbelly. Virtually unknown outside Australia since its 1983 release, the film is finally receiving its first-ever U.S theatrical run alongside a brand-new 4K restoration. After a brief, disappointing run in Sydney and decades languishing on VHS, Going Down is staking its claim as a lost gem of Australian independent film and a portrait of Sydney’s defiant and feverish brand of the New Wave movement. 

Raunchy girls-night-out narratives don’t often get recognized for their introspection, but Going Down positions itself as both a meandering love letter to post-punk grit and a meditation on the slow death of pleasure under modern capitalism. Each of the four women in the ensemble cast is doing their best to survive financial insecurity in a self-described sin city and the many lovers, drug-dealers, and cops trying to slow them down. Karli, the most well-off of the group, has been gifted a one-way ticket to a new life in New York City. Though she’s lauded for this escape by her friends, it’s clear that someone harbors resentment for her impending move when a huge amount of cash is stolen from her purse. The disappearance of $3000 meant to help her get on her feet in America sets off a paranoid search for reason during a night of sex, drugs, and the musical stylings of soul-inspired and synth-laden dance punk.

Knowing what New York City in the 1980’s was like, it’s hard to envy Karli’s move. But her choice to leave Sydney underscores just how bleak and precarious life felt for Australians at the time. Keenan’s vision of Sydney is slightly provincial and paranoid. It shifts between murky dark streets, rarely lit by more than flickering neon signs, and cruel fluorescents of bar bathrooms and pharmacies, both harsh and blinding in their own way. Fueled by a combination of prescription cough medicine and cheap beer, and the sounds of local post-punk acts such as Pel Mel, Randy Newman, and the Dynamic Hepnotics, it’s a city on the edge—broke, bored, and pulsing with life.

While everyone seems to have just enough money for hip clothing and drugs, the women in Going Down suffer the harsh realities of high unemployment and a recession-rattled economy. Jane, a waitress, drinks all her wages and isn’t above petty theft to get more. Ellen and Jackie hound unemployment offices and consider sex work for survival. And yet, as the film’s ‘morning after’ opening sequence shows, each night seems to end the same way: in filth, tears, and dread at the coming daylight. Stepping over unconscious bodies in the hallway to get to the bathroom appears routine, as does the compulsive indulgence of having a little cough syrup before heading to work. They live in a cycle of pleasure-seeking that can become abject and difficult to stop. Happiness is hard to come by and must be snatched from wherever one can find it.

An independent production to its core, Going Down is rough around the edges, particularly with editing and writing, but the punk ethos of the film carries it through the messiest moments with interludes that could be stand-alone music videos. The film’s creation was a collaborative effort between director Haydn Keenan, Sydney’s New Wave scenesters, and two of the film’s stars, Moira MacLaine-Cross and Julie Barry, who wrote the screenplay. Music featured in the film was contributed by local musicians after the tragic death of co-star Vera Plevnik, a well-known figure in Sydney’s art scene. It’s a film that feels like a group project made between friends, something comedic and boisterous—fair warning, there’s a lot of puke—but also genuine and candid.

Australian cinema lacks recognition amongst American cinephiles, not to mention mainstream audiences, which makes Going Down a portrait of feral persistence in a restless nation whose identity is rarely portrayed on screen. Printed across Jane’s shirt are the words “If I can’t be free, I can be cheap.” It’s a fitting mantra and, much like the film itself, an invitation to revel in being down and out.

Going Down’s North American theatrical run goes through June.

https://www.austinfilm.org/screening/going-down/

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