I first saw Harlequin a few years ago when I purchased the Ozploitation, Volume 1 DVD. It confused me then and, having sat down to watch it again recently, still continues to do so.

The film’s narrative captures the Rast family, headed by the politically involved Nick (David Hemmings), his essentially estranged wife Sandra (Carmen Duncan) and their nine year old son Alex (Mark Spain) who has leukaemia. Things get interesting when a faith healer by the name of Gregory Wolfe (Robert Powell) turns up dressed as a clown.

Strange events cause Sandra to fall in love with the magician and Nick’s colleagues to worry about the consequences this will have on his political career. As Nick says, this couldn’t have come at a worse time. Why? Well, because the film opens with an unknown man going snorkelling in rough seas, surrounded by bodyguards. Naturally the man, who turns out to be the current senator, disappears and is never seen again. Someone, it must be said, had obviously not gotten over Harold Holt’s disappearance whilst writing the script over a decade later!

No matter. The film continues with political references abound. Indeed, the entire plot is based on the Romanov family of Russia, their son Alexei being terminally ill, faith healer Grigori Rasputin healing him and Tsar (spelt backwards creating the surname ‘Rast’) Nicholas II being merely a political tool. If the viewer had yet to figure this out much is explained towards the end of Harlequin, with Gregory attempting to convince Nick that he is merely a puppet to the political machine he works for. And whilst Nick eventually realises the error of his ways, it is already too late.

A slightly redeeming factor of the film is the social commentary about the way in which the media is portrayed as being constantly interested in the personal lives of politicians and the way in which politicians themselves manipulate those around them, from colleagues to friends and family.

Accompanying the film is an overzealous musical score that often serves only to distract from the central action of the picture. This, coupled with the cheap but not-cheap-enough-to-be-funny visual effects of Gregory and the young Alex’s magic, end up creating a hardly fulfilling plot. Powell’s performance, which consists of staring unblinkingly towards the camera, is as over the top as his costumes and makeup, whilst Rast’s bodyguards fulfil the monkey-in-a-suit-with-a-gun category very nicely.

I feel slightly cheated by the marketing of this film. It’s not a thriller, so don’t trust the back of the DVD description which compares it with Rosemary’s Baby. Also, it’s missing the majority of all things I love about Ozploitation cinema: misspent youths, car chases, slang that has actually never been used on Australian shores and crude jokes. Thus, I don’t quite know what to make of such a feature. The shots of the beach are nice, though.

Review by Eleanor Colla

Director: Simon Wincer
Screenwriter: Everett De Roche
Cast: Robert Powell, David Hemmings, Carmen Duncan, Broderick Crawford, Gus Mercurio