THE DRESSMAKER

Back in the 90s, a new kind of Australian film emerged: one that disregarded rules of genre or style and simply assaulted the audience with story, character, colour and life. It was a kind of golden age, one that produced films like ‘Priscilla’, ‘Strictly Ballroom’ and ‘Muriel’s Wedding’. As we entered the new century, the style of Australian film shifted towards a gritty realism, but with ‘The Dressmaker’, acclaimed director Jocelyn Moorhouse has returned us to that giddy heyday with this totally barmy and thoroughly wonderful film.

Myrtle "Tilly" Dunnage (Kate Winslet) has returned to Dungatar, the country town she was born in. Sent away as a child for a crime she cannot remember committing, she returns in the 1950s a celebrated seamstress after studying and working throughout Europe for the best fashion houses. Her return has the town outraged, but determined to rectify her past, Tilly reunites with her ailing and cantankerous mother Molly (Judy Davis) and attempts to turn the opinions of the town around. However, doing so might be a lot harder than she expects.

Based on the novel by Rosalie Ham and adapted by Moorhouse and fellow Aussie director P.J. Hogan, ‘The Dressmaker’ is at its very heart an absolutely cracking revenge yarn, brimming with energy and tenacity. It might have a (spectacularly executed) period setting, but the humour and rhythms never adhere to the tired principles of period filmmaking, instead moving at an unrelenting pace and delivering every moment with great panache. It’s hard to even pin down what genre it belongs in - it swings between comedy, slapstick, romance, tragedy and thriller, with a dollop of violence thrown in for good measure. In less capable hands, it would undoubtedly be a total mess (and in a wonderful way it still is), but Moorhouse lands every barmy moment by allowing it to come from character and plot rather than stylish ruffles. At no point does it lose your interest or cease to entertain, and when the emotional moments land, they do so with more grace and power because of the whimsy and insanity around them. Donald McAlpine does a sterling job with his vibrant and dusty cinematography, Jill Bibcock sets a cracking pace with her terrific editing, and David Hirschfelder helps hold the film together stylistically with his great score. Marion Boyce and Margot Wilson almost steal the show with their ravishing costume design, which not only has to speak volumes very quickly about the characters wearing them, but contrast vividly with the Australian landscape, emphasising how much of an outsider Tilly and her art have become. But its Moorhouse that deserves mountains of credit for this film - her direction is tight, brave, wildly imaginative and exactly what this story needed. She’s crafted a cracking film that literally bursts off the screen, throttles you with everything it has, and then runs off giggling gleefully.