In relentlessly accurate portrait, the Black Balloon shows the daily life of a family with one severely autistic and ADD afflicted son. Unlike any Hollywood version, this is a stream of stress, suppresses stress and fear of what will, yet again, happen when Charlie does any of the things that can slowly unravel any family.
It is painful to watch, terrible to imagine, and what it requires in real life is beyond comprehension.
It also subtly asks the unavoidable question if anyone has the right to require such absolute sacrifice not only from the parents, but also from the siblings. And what would the consequences of a childhood spent in such condition mean for the growth of the sibling of such severely handicapped person who interferes with all the normal life activities.
The Mollisons' family puts great effort into making Charlie’s life as enjoyable as possible; the teachers in his school try just as hard. Yet when Charlie's Mom tells to her other son, Thomas (Rhys Wakefield): he will always live with us, it is a sentence far worse than what we see, because Charlie the boy, who has the support of school, will become Charlie the man, and Charlie the old man, and there is little support then.
Just watching the effort and the joy of the parents (Toni Collette and Eric Thompson), who inevitably neglect their normal son,at anything seemingly normal, ordinary, is painful. The cost to the people, and resources, are enormous, with no way to measure if any of it makes any difference at all to the life of those disabled. Whether this is what they want, is even more impossible to gauge.
The scene with Jackie's tampon is so telling. No, being nice does not change anything, being understanding does not either. The birthday, when Thomas, who is falling in love with Jackie (Gemma Ward ) and hoping for the best, breaks down, so inevitable. The obstacles between the two worlds are insurmountable.
It is very realistically written and acted, with the exception of the budding love affair. Young girls do not have the emotional maturity to deal with such situation. However understated is the acting, and very good looking Ward is trying hard, the screenplay is unrealistic. Thomas is handsome and all, but he is bound to lose her. All the other parts are within reality and acted as plainly, non-hysterically and as realistically as possible. Luke Ford is so natural that is it amazing. Bleakly shot in flat sun and equally unflattering shadows, the camera compliments the dreary lives enhanced only by the eternal strength of the youth.
They don’t make films like this one anymore. Films that are not here to entertain but to ask questions. Uncomfortable questions. Necessary questions. Disturbing films about sad lives that make you stop and think: here, but for mercy, go I…
Our loss. Film is a media with great power that once, before marketing and profit took it completely over, presented problems even if these problems could not be solved in the 90 allotted minutes. We have lost most of that along with our ability to think problems through rather than look for instant appeasements. It does not serve us well on screen, where we are assaulted and often bored by endless stream of mindless bloodbaths, sex and crude, artificial comments, nor in real life, where we often pay high price for our inability to change and develop the society where it is needed.
An Icon Film Distribution release (in Australia) of a Film Finance Corp. Australia, Black Balloon Prods. (Australia)/Icon Entertainment Intl. (U.K.) presentation of a Black Balloon production, in association with the New South Wales Film & TV Office, Australian Film Commission, Anita and Luca Belgiorno-Nettis. (International sales: Icon, London.) Produced by Tristram Miall. Co-producers, Sally Ayre-Smith, Elissa Down, Jimmy the Exploder, Mark Turnbull. Co-executive producers, Anita Belgiorno-Nettis, Sally Chesher, Toni Collette, Mark Gooder. Screenplay by Elissa Down., Jimmy the Exploder, Directed by Elissa Down, Camera: Denson Baker.
With: Rhys Wakefield, Luke Ford, Gemma Ward, Erik Thomson, Toni Collette.
