Good story, Not enough for a whole film

Excellent but underrated film

everything you have heard about this movie is true.

There are moments in this movie where the great movie it could've been peek out... They're fleeting, here, but they're worth savoring, and they happen often enough to make it worth your while.

Seeing John Clarke in the cast was one of the main reasons that encouraged me to see 'A month of Sundays'. On that score, I wasn't disappointed, Clarke gave a polished performance with a few of his usual sarcastic/humorous one liners perfectly delivered. While obviously a film of redemption, son's trying to justify and/or prove themselves to their elders, to me the movie lacked a real plot or something to bond it together. It meandered along in its own way, much like the main character, struggling real estate salesman Franks, played by Anthony LaPaglia who did do a great impression of a Real estate agent, albeit not an over enthusiastic one ! Overall it was watchable, but for me fell a little short of being memorable.

We saw this great film at Luna Essex several days ago and both of us relished the film; it was superbly completed with an equally superb cast of film experts working at their best in all aspects of movie construction. I should not demean any one of them by mentioning our favourites; however, the actors led by LaPaglia, Julia Blake as Sarah, plus the two Clarkes bring Australian actors centre stage for this marvellous Australian movie.We were moved by the humanity of this movie; albeit, the plot may stretch the credulity of some viewers but do not worry, it is a simple movie that examines simple life conflicts. The pieces of the plot fit very snugly together and lead to a satisfying completion.The movie's examination of our life's passages will be reflected in viewer's acknowledgement that these instances are prevalent in the simple act of being alive. Those pieces are manifestly part of the human condition and it was a pleasure to see them handled so gently in this sweet movie.

Some films attract critical consensus while others trigger polar opposite opinions like A Month of Sundays (2016). Australian colloquial drama is not for everyone and it takes patience to engage with slow-paced laconic narratives that rely on insider humour for meaning. Aussie horrors and dystopian thrillers are well known but there are few films that stand tall for sensitively exploring the inner world of male emotion. In fact, we have culturally fortified ourselves with a style of Ocker farce to shield us from knowing too much about what lurks within the Australian male.Lacklustre real estate agent Frank (Anthony LaPaglia) is the quintessential Aussie bloke. He is a poor salesman and has neither the verbal wit or emotional maturity to deal with the double-barrel grief of his recent divorce or his mother's recent death. By extraordinary coincidence he takes a misdirected call from Sarah (Julia Blake) who sounds just like his mother and the few minutes on the phone fills an emotional void. One thing leads to another, they become friends, and Frank learns to open up on the various emotional fronts of his life. The sub-plot lines include redeeming the relationship with his son, resolving feelings about his wife and mother, dealing with Sarah's health issues, and experiencing the ordinary pleasure of being nice to people. It's a simple narrative arc, but dense with emotional side-tracks and blockages that Frank cannot resolve alone. Themes of emotional estrangement, aging, death and grief are lightened by the deadpan humour exchanged between Frank and his boss (John Clarke) and the constant running commentary in real estate language, a clever device that mocks the Aussie obsession with property ownership.The filming has many long fixed frames and scenes where nothing happens except what we can infer is going on inside Frank's head. When he appears to be struggling emotionally, the recurring real estate babble kicks in to punctuate the silence while he retreats into his private world of make- believe sales talk with imaginary buyers. Some critics have panned the film's central premise and slow-burn plot, but it stands out as a thoughtful and well-acted portrait of an emotionally convoluted archetypal Australian male who exists just this side of clinical depression. Frank is ordinariness personified and not very likable at all, but he is very recognisable in this country. This is an original funny-sad look at a type of Aussie male who should watch this film for their own good.

Even favourable external reviews of this witty, wise and beautiful film have been almost dismissive and certainly offhand. One shouldn't be surprised that the aggregated rating on Rotten Tomatoes is so preposterously low [29% at last glance- I will glance no more!]; it's a representation of the level of ignorance that's out there in official critland, especially North American critland, but as well in the UK. They have almost no clue what makes Aussies tick, and they won't get this film.'Professional' reviewers lacking the ability to bring real wisdom to bear no matter how broad their knowledge of film, and still feel entitled to adopt such condescending tones as the following: "could find a few art house takers in Anglophone territories", "well-worn notions of redemption and acceptance". To take this tone, vaguely accusatory of unoriginality while finding it crucial to make sure the reader takes note that the reviewer has IDd at least two of the themes is a lot like that old joke in which a man wouldn't join any club that would accept him; 'I guessed what the film is about, therefore it's too easy and beneath me'. Shakespeare dealt in 'well worn' themes. They're well worn because they are deeply required themes to be represented for humanity, and they should be eternally worked over. One external newspaper reviewer, someone we need to know is super- clever, found fault with a long camera shot which, being a tribute to another director/film, was 'distracting'. Bring it on I say. The richer the film's material, the more there is to love. Life is also full of subplots and digressions. What's wrong with a little whimsy? It's thoroughly enjoyable. Another claims that the film's central friendship is too unconventional and that suspicions of serial killer madness might be fitting; that the film might better have been made as a thriller. What a poisonous notion, that friendships can only be allowed to exist founded on introductions by mutual friends with the right credentials. I'd like to thank the film makers here for showing Australians what we really do still need to be reminded of, namely that the most desolate culturescape is enriched by the people who dwell therein. We have everything needed for nourishment of the soul to offer each other if we can transcend convention and ennui and only connect. There is nothing wrong with editorialising, nothing wrong with a little didacticism. Why conceal it? You don't have to agree. Just don't find fault with the fact some real values are being presented. Australia has for years been afflicted with a housing 'bubble'. Whole generations of the population are being screwed. People can't afford to buy shelter these days, and television therefore proliferates with architecture/house/reno/interior design porn. In Month of Sundays we are shown that even profiteers in this giant racket are demoralised and damaged in such a climate of greed and exploitation. As in another film I love, The Cave of the Yellow Dog, Month of Sundays has plenty of amusing little 'lessons'. As two people cathartically indulge grief-filled nostalgia on the site of a demolished former family home with their backs to the street, behind them processes a bunch of fairy-costumed little girls with party balloons in colours impactfully vivid. The lost past is desolation, but here behind you is the bright and alive present if only you could turn and look. A death is a cruelly unexpected breakup, but if and when you can find the courage to let go, the many colours of life await. The welcome mat is reversed: welcome to the world. Everybody is vulnerable without a single toothmark on the scenery, ever. The acting in this film is really seriously fine and so are the editing decisions. I love a contemplative film that respects actors and the subject enough to let duration pass. This sort of style is powerfully immersive, especially for anyone who may recognise the many cultural references that bring us straight to our memories of very particularly Aussie times and places without recourse to cliché or stereotype. Not enough can be said in praise of this film. External critics, drop your complacent posturing and lift your games!