There’s something refreshingly unpredictable approximately this time-travel format,a particularly pleasing virtue in these black days of superhero this and sequel thatIn the 1970s, Australian film-makers cranked up the gas and pumped out a slate of crazy-memorable petrolhead movies. Stone embraced acid-soaked biker funerals, and The Cars That Ate Paris combined grease monkeys with freaky medical procedures,and crazy Max unleashed a certain crotchety road warrior on to a vast dystopian landscape.
Perhaps the current decade will come to be regarded as a peak period for kooky Australian time travel flicks. The criminally under-watched, joyously screwy The Infinite Man doled out headwear Doc Brown would be proud of, or while Predestination answered the hypothetical question nobody asked: what would happen whether you went back in time and slept with yourself? Related: Otto Bloom film-maker Cris Jones on the curious case of living life in reverse Continue reading...
Source: theguardian.com