The Arts: Something worth fighting for

Throw a stone and you’re bound to find an article lamenting the death of the arts in Australia, especially cinema. A quick scan through the arts section and I see how many decades-old programs and institutions are underfunded or going out of business. Although opportunities for burgeoning artists remain, there prevails a looming sense of bleakness and darkness.

What happened? Simple: Australians stopped showing up.

Everything is expensive; while artists can no longer afford their studios or basic human necessities, audiences can no longer afford to go to the cinema. The theatregoing experience is more prohibitive than before, with the cost of snacks and drinks sometimes triple the price of admission. Why bother going to the movies when you can just wait for it to show up on Netflix?

It didn’t used to be like this.

With the 1970s came a filmmaking boom and a canon of classics not just in Australia, but also the world. For films like Nicolas Roeg’s Walkabout and Ted Kotcheff’s Wake in Fright, foreign directors used the country and its harsh climate as a canvas to explore universal themes such as isolation, modernity and cultural disconnection. Australian filmmakers soon screwed their courage to the post and got to work:

Picnic at Hanging Rock, The Last Wave, Gallipoli and The Year of Living Dangerously by Peter Weir; the original Mad Max trilogy by George Miller; The Chant of Jimmie Blacksmith by Fred Schepisi; Breaker Morant by Bruce Beresford; Razorback; Dead Calm; Muriel’s Wedding; Priscilla; Shine; The Castle.

Interestingly, Australian art has long been influenced by its relationship with America. Be it musician, filmmaker or painter, securing an American distribution deal or contract has often been seen as the benchmark for success, highlighting the transitional value of Australian works. The more transitional, the more universal the appeal. And so, Australian filmmakers used their home country as a jumping-off point for careers in Hollywood or elsewhere.

While this system seems very transactional, it did allow filmmakers to develop their artistic identities, often relying on state government funding or private financiers rather than major cinematic institutions. And it was a good system: filmmakers worked with modest budgets and audiences responded in earnest.

It wasn’t just filmmakers. Actors, probably Australia’s most famous exports, had their starts in local film productions or shows like Home and Away before launching careers in Hollywood. The Australian theatre scene also had its boom, with a litter of angry and controversial playwrights. And to this day, Australia maintains a strong presence on the global arts stage and continues to produce outstanding creative talent.

Why, then, is there such bleakness? Because we live in an era characterised by too many choices, too little time and not enough money. Unsurprisingly, cinema attendance has dropped nationwide, even for Hollywood blockbusters. The average number of cinema visits per person fell from 10.5 in 1974 to 4.8 in 2023, despite an increase in the number of theatres.

Australian films of late, naturally, have struggled to find their audience—be it cost, cultural cringe, apathy or lack of incentive. The local film and TV scene, apart from legally mandated fiction programming and streaming content, is largely sustained by Hollywood productions exploiting generous state tax credits. We are now a canvas for American productions telling American stories.

Another, and perhaps more insidious, problem is the shifting perception of the arts compared to fifty years ago. Under Scott Morrison’s leadership, the federal government increased the cost of arts and humanities degrees, prioritising fields with greater occupational demand such as science, teaching and nursing. Although artists criticised this move, and as much as I disagree with it, I understand the decision.

The arts are an overcrowded field, with many talented individuals and limited opportunities for advancement. Unlike other careers where the pathway from education to employment is crystal clear, the trajectory in the arts is uncertain, and returns are often delayed or non-existent.

I remember in high school, before Queensland’s OP system was rightfully eradicated, how little weight arts classes – drama, visual art, film and television, music – carried in students’ overall scores. Even before Morrison, schools punished children for pursuing the arts and instead pressured them to value more “productive” careers like medicine, law or politics.

During the pandemic, when Suncorp Stadium and the Gabba were operating at near capacity with almost complete freedom, smaller artistic venues like the Tivoli had to cull their numbers and dictatorially police COVID-era regulations. What is there to say, though? We like our sport in Australia. More than the arts.

For a moment, however, it seemed the arts might rise to the level of sport because it gave us cultural capital on the world stage. Now, it’s a thorn in the side of government, relegated to the latter end of the DITRDCSA (Department of Infrastructure, Transport, Regional Development, Communications, Sport and Arts). It doesn’t have the same ring it once had, and it doesn’t bring in the big bucks like mining or sport.

But it doesn’t need to be this way for long. In the days of too-much-too-little, it is essential we unburden these pressures and unburden them effectively. How?

1. Subsidies. Government subsidies on Australian films shown in cinemas would help sustain cinema operations and boost audience attendance.
2. Expand the number of drive-in venues for people who can’t afford babysitters.
3. Establish clearer career pathways for emerging artists.

In other words: give audiences more than just a reason to attend; make attendance as fundamental as supporting your favourite footy team.

Stanley Kubrick said: “I don’t think that writers or painters or filmmakers function because they have something they particularly want to say. They have something that they feel.” Seeing a great film, a great piece of theatre, a great work of art, is an emotional experience; a glimpse through time, through a unique set of eyes.

We have the canvas and the paint. Let’s continue to create enduring works; something worth seeing and something worth fighting for.