Before ‘Truman Show,’ Peter Weir Made His Mark With ‘Hanging Rock’

It’s not particularly an original concept to build a work of speculative fiction around a real-life incident.

What Peter Weir did in 1975, though, was a twist on the form. He built a film around a novel that seemed to reflect a real event and, in fact, was presumed to be real by many of those who read it. Even so, the novel was, ultimately, pure fiction.

Weir is in the news this week because of “The Truman Show,” the critically acclaimed film that is now out on video (see capsule review below).

But lost in the glare of all the publicity surrounding “The Truman Show” and its lead performance by Jim Carrey is the revival last summer of Weir’s mysterious 24-year-old feature “Picnic at Hanging Rock.”

“Picnic” was among the first of the great wave of Australian films of the 1970s and early ‘80s (others included “Walkabout,” “My Brilliant Career,” “Breaker Morant” and “Gallipoli”). It tells the story of what happens when a trio of Australian schoolgirls, on an outing with their teachers and fellow students, disappears.

But “Picnic” can’t be reduced to simple plot. Mostly, it is a meditation on what’s unknowable about life. Ultimately, it is less about the senses than it is about feelings - of fear, of sexual frustration, of whatever can’t be easily explained.

It is a ghost story in which our own subconscious nature plays the offending spirit.

“Truman” may well earn Weir an Oscar nomination. If not, it hardly matters. “Picnic” already has ensured his place among the great filmmakers of the late-20th century.

The Truman Show

***-1/2

Taking MTV’s “Real World” phenomenon a step further, this Peter Weir direction of Andrew Niccol’s script tells the story of everyman Truman Burbank (Jim Carrey) whose life is the longest-running (30 years and counting) television show in history. The conceit here is that the protagonist is blissfully unaware that such a television show exists. Well, mostly blissfully. He’s gradually become dissatisfied with his life, especially with his marriage (to Laura Linney), and has taken to recalling the one woman he was attracted to (Natasha McElhone). Just as gradually, he’s becoming aware that things… aren’t… quite… right. And we watch the television audience as it watches Truman struggle for self-awareness and toward independence. Weir is masterful in blending comedy and drama, satire and meaningful commentary. And Carrey, while never quite letting us forget that he comes from a different dimension (where everyone acts like “Ace Ventura”), does manage to affect a serious-seeming tone that fleshes out his comedy persona better than ever before. By movie’s end, you may be cheering along with the movie audience. And, like them, you’ll immediately look for something else to watch. Rated PG

54

**

Mark Christopher wrote and directed this film about the notorious New York disco, Studio 54, that made headlines all through the late 1970s by attracting the likes of Bianca Jagger, Andy Warhol, Calvin Klein and all the other so-called beautiful people of the moment. Christopher’s intent was to make a grand statement about the nature of dreams and the depths that some dreamers are willing to go to achieve them. But what he achieves is far less than one might hope. Mike Myers stars as Steve Rubell, the real-life self-destructive owner of Studio 54 who would stand on the street and personally pick and choose among those wanting to get inside. But the real stars include young hardbody Ryan Phillippe, Salma Hayek and, ever so briefly, Neve Campbell, all of whom have the kinds of stories that were told before (and much better) in “Boogie Nights.” Despite Myers’ brilliance, which shows that he does have the ability to play drama, the film - even with its pulsing musical score - feels asleep at the wheel. If it were a person, and that person wanted to get inside the real 54, Rubell wouldn’t have considered it for a moment. Rated R

Pi

**

“Pi” is an arithmetic-hater’s nightmare. To some of us, it makes about as much sense as calculus. Worse, once its trendy sense of style (sharply contrasting black-and-white photography, claustrophobic set design, bizarre imagery) wears off, it’s about as much fun as the SATs. The story involves a math genius (Sean Gillette) who appears to be on the verge of understanding nothing less than the meaning of life. His clues are the various patterns that he picks up, those mentioned in the Talmud, those that show up in newspaper ads and those referred to by a collection of creepy characters. This kind of obsession would result in the institutionalization of anyone else, but our protagonist is being courted by various types - from government agents to Hasidic Jewish operatives - so it seems as if he’s on to something real. Yet he’s so tortured that it’s hard to take either him or his predicament very seriously. What with all of writer-director Darren Aronofsky’s self-consciousness stylishness, there seems to be more here than what is right before our eyes. And maybe there is. It’s just as likely, though, that 2 plus 2 equals 5. Who besides Pythagoras would know? Rated R