Head On (1998)

Head On (1998). 1h 44m | Not Rated

“Head On is almost certainly the best film Iu0026#39;ll see in 1998. I saw The Travelling Sydney Film Festival on the same weekend. So Head On is in exalted company indeed. And Head On is an Australian Film! Our strongest artistic expressions are cross cultural; those mergers and clashes that result from our second and third generation migrants growing up in Australia. Until the last few years we Aussies have tried to kid ourselves that we are exclusively Anglo Saxon people on the big screen, conveniently forgetting Eastern European and Asian migration, not to mention our Aboriginal brothers and sisters. So weu0026#39;ve tended to wallow in vague Dad And Dave rural soapies, Horse Operas of the Phar Lap type or nostalgic, ANZAC and Breaker Morant homages to the mother country, ignoring the fact that we are one of the most urbanised countries on the planet, and that most of us have parents who werenu0026#39;t from within five hundred ks of London. Head On is about Ari (Alex Dimitriades), a 19 year old homosexual Greek Australian living in St Kilda Melbourne. Heu0026#39;s a lost soul, enveloped in a broiling sea of parental conflict, drugs and sex. Heu0026#39;s u0026quot;not proud to be Greek. He just is.u0026quot; A myriad of urban dilemmas are raised in Head On, nearly all of which are profoundly realised, but only through the briefly attentive eyes of a spaced out malcontent like Ari. I was reminded of that masterful scene in that early Scorcese film called Mean Streets; a scene which has never been bettered at showing what it is like to be drunk. But Ari isnu0026#39;t only drunk, heu0026#39;s on a cocktail of speed, cocaine and God knows what else and heu0026#39;s full of resentment. Thereu0026#39;s a scene in Head On where he and another unhappy soul, his cousin Betty (Elena Mandalis), slump in a toilet together, sharing their unhappiness, in a brief interlude before the madness resumes. Itu0026#39;s a poignant, sad scene, where we realise just how desperate and empty lust and drugs alone can be. But when Ari is offered love he rejects it, violently. And thatu0026#39;s a pattern repeated in Head On. People lurch in and out of Head On who have yet to, or one suspects may never, achieve a viable feeling of self worth. They strike out against commitment and self worth, indulging in hedonism because they can. Their parents have made the sacrifices. That looks boring to the children. Materialism is as easy as the next drug deal. Love is as easy as the next screw. Head On (the alternative title Hard On is a particularly apt Freudian slip, one that Iu0026#39;ve been guilty of) is about the alienation of youth, particularly homosexual youth. Itu0026#39;s also about the generation gap, magnified by Ariu0026#39;s Greek migrant parents. And Head On is about a dozen other, contemporary urban issues. Racism is addressed with some feeling, in the filmu0026#39;s weakest segment, but Ariu0026#39;s not too concerned really. Heu0026#39;s reasonably happy just if he gets stoned and laid; sad but true of so many. Writer/director Ana Kokkinos has masterfully introduced us to the Ariu0026#39;s turbulent St Kilda world. Her film is fascinating and world class. Alex Dimitriades (Heartbreak High) is fantastic. Head On is spot on.”