Recently, I visited Canberra to watch a special viewing of Picnic at Hanging Rock for its 50th anniversary. This film holds a lot of significance for me, both as a person and as a writer. It helped cement my love of nature, history, the paranormal, and all things gothic.
My family and I watched a lot of films when I was younger, and I remember seeing this as a child on its release (yes, I really am that old). My dad must have picked up its impact on me, because a short while afterwards, he handed me a package wrapped in a paper bag. It was a copy of the book. I have never forgotten that moment, for it was an unspoken bond we shared.
I still have the copy of the book he gave me, however, after all these years it has seen a lot of wear that I needed to get another copy. I have also lost count the number of times I have watched the film after recording it off the television back in the late 1980s thanks to it being aired on the ABC, so it’s free of commercial breaks.
Like many viewers, I was captivated by the mystery of what happened to the missing girls and their maths teacher, so that some years ago, I managed to get a copy of the ‘missing chapter.’ After having read it, I believe the publishers made the right decision to leave it out, as it would have been jarring for readers. Besides, remaining unsolved only adds to the mystique of both the film and the book.
Learning of the special anniversary screening, I wanted to see the film once again on the big screen. The closest theatre for me to see it was in Canberra, some 261km (162 miles) away. Although my husband came with me to Canberra, he did not watch the film with me, as he has not only never seen it, but he’s not big on movies.
From the very beginning, I got a bit emotional (yeah, I’m a bit of a wuss), not only when seeing and hearing the rock, but also seeing poor Sara for the first time. It was in that moment that I realised that Miranda may be the heart of the story, but Sara is the bedrock. Even when we do not see her, she is talked about. Yes, the disappearances affect everybody, but especially Sara, who feels abandoned, lost, and alone.
As someone who has seen it so often, knowing the film from beginning to end and back again, I was both surprised and annoyed that a couple of scenes were cut and a few new scenes were added. I felt the same way when I watched the Director’s Cut. After all these years, especially for the film’s 50th anniversary, Picnic at Hanging Rock should remain in its original format. Maybe I’m wrong, but I believe after its release to the public, it then belongs to them.
While waiting for my husband to pick me up, I could feel the tears begin to form. During the drive back to our hotel, despite his conversation, I found it difficult to concentrate. My mind was back in the theatre. It wasn’t until we arrived, that I finally broke. I couldn’t help it.
That is the power of story.
Has a film ever made a huge impression in your life? Do you believe a film, once shown in public, belongs to viewers?
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