Produced by Michael Powell. A Williamson-Powell Film. Photographed on locations in Sydney in Eastman Color. Processed by Rank's Denham Film Laboratories. No New York opening. Never released in the U.S.A. U.K. release (in original 112-minute version) through Rank Film Distributors: 4 November 1966. Sydney opening at the State. Australian release through British Empire Films: 19 August 1966. Original running time: 112 minutes.
Powell recalled the film after its initial Melbourne and Sydney seasons and quickly re-edited and re-issued it in a 95-minute version for suburban, country, and all other capital city showings.
SYNOPSIS: An Italian journalist, finding that his Sydney magazine job has folded, seeks employment as a builder's laborer.
NOTES: The top money-making movie released in Australia in 1966. The version released on DVD is the original version that played only in Melbourne and Sydney first-run theaters, before it was recalled.
COMMENT: It seems that critics can fill a useful function after all. Thanks to a number of intelligent suggestions in newspaper and magazine reviews, more than a quarter hour has now been intelligently edited out of the film's original running time of 112 minutes. No longer can it be argued that individual scenes overstay their welcome, or that the film as a whole runs too long. Or that the songs are a discordant intrusion. (Or that there's a surplus of great Australian adjectives). Of course, nothing could be done with the movie's basic story line. It is admittedly very slight, but often quite charmingly handled. I particularly like the beautifully- lit scene when Culotta returns to his magazine-strewn office to pass the night; and Slim de Grey's laconic remarks about Culotta's method of work.
The film was obviously made on a very tight budget, resulting in very inconsistent photography (which doesn't look so bad on television, but is a distinct drawback in a theater). The studio scenes are excellent, but some of the outdoor material was undoubtedly shot under far from ideal conditions. However, the comedy still comes across unimpeded. At times, indeed, it's very funny.
It is ridiculous, however, to talk of "Weird Mob" as a genuine Australian effort. It's no more Australian than "The Battle of the Bulge" is Spanish. Almost all the technicians were British, and even the screenwriter turns out to be Powell's old collaborator, Emeric Pressburger, hiding under a pseudonym!
OTHER VIEWS: Hard to believe, but here we are in 2017, and what version of "Weird Mob" surfaces on DVD, but the discredited original version. Bloody awful it is too (to borrow some of the film's now copiously re-inserted vernacular). In this version, the more interesting players — Chips Rafferty, Alida Chelli and Judith Arthy — are reduced virtually to walk-ons, while a procession of bores usurp center stage. Even Chiari wears out his initial welcome, and as for that colorless bossy-boots, Clare Dunne, and the rest of the camera hoggers led by Devereaux and a miscast John Meillon, the less said the better. The ferry scene with Keith Peterson, which is a bore even in its cut version, has now been stretched back to excruciating length.
The slightest of slight stories just cannot sustain some of the essential plot episodes like all the repetitious building sequences, let alone the many pointless, interpolated scenes such as the boring party on Clark Island. But the most disappointing aspect of all is Michael Powell's lackluster, completely unimaginative, colorlessly routine, hack direction.
Powell recalled the film after its initial Melbourne and Sydney seasons and quickly re-edited and re-issued it in a 95-minute version for suburban, country, and all other capital city showings.
SYNOPSIS: An Italian journalist, finding that his Sydney magazine job has folded, seeks employment as a builder's laborer.
NOTES: The top money-making movie released in Australia in 1966. The version released on DVD is the original version that played only in Melbourne and Sydney first-run theaters, before it was recalled.
COMMENT: It seems that critics can fill a useful function after all. Thanks to a number of intelligent suggestions in newspaper and magazine reviews, more than a quarter hour has now been intelligently edited out of the film's original running time of 112 minutes. No longer can it be argued that individual scenes overstay their welcome, or that the film as a whole runs too long. Or that the songs are a discordant intrusion. (Or that there's a surplus of great Australian adjectives). Of course, nothing could be done with the movie's basic story line. It is admittedly very slight, but often quite charmingly handled. I particularly like the beautifully- lit scene when Culotta returns to his magazine-strewn office to pass the night; and Slim de Grey's laconic remarks about Culotta's method of work.
The film was obviously made on a very tight budget, resulting in very inconsistent photography (which doesn't look so bad on television, but is a distinct drawback in a theater). The studio scenes are excellent, but some of the outdoor material was undoubtedly shot under far from ideal conditions. However, the comedy still comes across unimpeded. At times, indeed, it's very funny.
It is ridiculous, however, to talk of "Weird Mob" as a genuine Australian effort. It's no more Australian than "The Battle of the Bulge" is Spanish. Almost all the technicians were British, and even the screenwriter turns out to be Powell's old collaborator, Emeric Pressburger, hiding under a pseudonym!
OTHER VIEWS: Hard to believe, but here we are in 2017, and what version of "Weird Mob" surfaces on DVD, but the discredited original version. Bloody awful it is too (to borrow some of the film's now copiously re-inserted vernacular). In this version, the more interesting players — Chips Rafferty, Alida Chelli and Judith Arthy — are reduced virtually to walk-ons, while a procession of bores usurp center stage. Even Chiari wears out his initial welcome, and as for that colorless bossy-boots, Clare Dunne, and the rest of the camera hoggers led by Devereaux and a miscast John Meillon, the less said the better. The ferry scene with Keith Peterson, which is a bore even in its cut version, has now been stretched back to excruciating length.
The slightest of slight stories just cannot sustain some of the essential plot episodes like all the repetitious building sequences, let alone the many pointless, interpolated scenes such as the boring party on Clark Island. But the most disappointing aspect of all is Michael Powell's lackluster, completely unimaginative, colorlessly routine, hack direction.