Ultra pitch black in tone, Audrey from debut feature filmmakers, director Natalie Bailey and writer Lou Sanz hits the sweet spot in sardonic Aussie humour from the opening scene, making no apologies whatsoever for tackling controversial family dynamics with blunt delivery. Like many working-class Antipodean comedy offerings, the setting is chaotic and the characters are sweary as they scramble around for purpose, but there is always a sense of united achievement after a battle is won. It is this heady mix that Audrey delivers in spades but with a deviant twist not for the easily offended.
Drama instructor and has-been TV actor Ronnie Lipsick (a delightful Jackie van Beek in full flow) continues to live her fame dream vicariously through her talented but wayward teenage daughter Audrey (Josephine Blazier) who is both spiteful and dismissive of the limelight her mother is trying to create for her. Ronnie’s full attention goes on furthering Audrey’s career to the detriment of her other teen daughter, the sharp-tongued Norah (Hannah Diviney) who has Cerebral Palsy and relies on her family’s assistance. Meanwhile, handyman father Cormack (Jeremy Lindsay Taylor) also feels invisible in his family’s eyes, finding comfort and companionship at a church where he is tasked with a carpentry job.
After Audrey has a teen tantrum in front of the neighbourhood and falls off the roof, putting her into a coma, the rest of the family begins to blossom. They find their individual paths to fulfilment, without having Audrey’s overbearing and privileged presence to contend with. As Audrey comes around, the others face difficult questions and seek a striking resolution to keep the status quo in their favour.
This fast-paced farce comes with a bold ‘we are only human’ side note that not only squarely tests the theory of a parent’s unconditional love for a child, but also how far one will to go as an individual for the sake of their own sanity. Van Beek as Ronnie is a pure, unadulterated tonic of self-indulgence to watch, as she bounces off one dilemma and impending disaster to the next, making ugly choices along the way with hilarious consequences that some might argue are selfish, but others will (unwillingly) sympathise with.
Getting on board with Ronnie is central to the film’s objective: she is its momentum and steer, even as family underdogs Cormack and Norah have their own scenes to shine in. The pace never feels rushed, which is a testament to Bailey’s direction. It allows momentary insights into the vulnerable minds of each Lipsick character through a combination of closeup camerawork and internal dialogue, before we are slapped with the next barbed line when their guard flies up. With Sanz’s excellent script, we are both horrified by the characters’ actions but equally forgiving, allowing us to still have a shred of empathy for them as the flawed people they are.
Without spoiling the controversial ending, there are some Michael Lehmann’s Heathers moments at play that include Audrey’s obnoxious, stoner boyfriend Max (Fraser Anderson). He and Norah also feature in the film’s disputed definition of sexual abuse that will prompted some raised eyebrows but which the script explores and manages to navigate without a blip in its drollery.
Audrey is confidently upfront and there for the taking for those who like lashings of thick black humour from Down Under. It works because its characters are fundamentally self-deprecating, but deliciously wide open to suggestion and exploration. This is huge part of what makes this film vibrate with life, longing and devilish endeavour, making another Bailey-Sanz screen partnership a definite one to catch.
