FROM HEATHER ROSE

I was locked into my own world when along came “Bad Boy Bubby”, in which I had a tiny part. This was my first real experience seeing movie-making from the other side. I was hooked, but I didn’t know where to go.

When Fred, who had also worked on that film, made the comment that he wanted to write a movie, I realised that this was too good a chance to miss. We embarked on the first draft of our script.

We felt that a movie about a woman like me could work, but it had to be a dramatic story, not another “disability” film. That’s why we created Madelaine, who is a totally fictional character, but who does represent the very worst of all the worst carers rolled into one.

One night I had a birthday party to which I invited Rolf. Fred and I talked about the script to Rolf, but Rolf didn’t even want to read what we’d done so far, saying he didn’t want to interfere with our process.

A while later Rolf called Fred at my place and asked him to come into the office. I had no idea what this could have been about. When Fred got back he told me Rolf wanted to help us develop the script further.

This gave me a big boost in confidence, because it meant that someone really believed in me, in my ability to do something worthwhile, something that would benefit other people.

Being given the lead role meant so much to me, to have Rolf and the others have that much belief in me was the first time in my life people were so supportive of me. Even so, when filming started I was very nervous.

As time went on I became more confident with both myself and my ability to act. Having a really supportive crew and cast helped me a real lot, especially co-star Joey Kennedy and director Rolf de Heer. They both helped me grow personally and professionally.

My outlook on life has changed too, I don’t let people tell me what to do or what to say anymore. I value all my friendships a lot more.


FROM THE DIRECTOR

There are two aspects of this film that give me pride above all the other aspects of it that give me pride.

The first is that, knowing Heather, I see the character of Julia up on the screen, and the character of Julia is not at all like Heather. It is a performance, not a recording.

The second is that part of the way through the film, I perceive the character of Julia quite differently than I do at the beginning of the film... she is just Julia, no longer the disabled character any more than Madelaine is the character with brown hair or Eddie is the character with the muscular body.

The idea of working with Heather Rose had seemed easy enough... she spends most of the film in a wheelchair which she does in her normal life anyway.
The practical reality was, however, somewhat different, but not through any lack of effort from her.

The cadences of Heather’s existence before becoming involved in this madness were very different from those that took over during shooting.

The thirty-year rhythms of her life... someone turns up to get you out of bed, wash you, feed you; they go, you’re alone; someone turns up to make lunch, feed you, clean you up; they go, you’re alone; someone turns up to make your dinner, feed you, clean you up, put you to bed; they go, you’re alone... were shattered by the demands of schedule, budget, shot and story.

Somehow, through this, she had to perform, she had to be a character other than herself, she had to do one of the most difficult possible things for someone with her disability. She had to act.

It is impossible to overstate the courage of the performance that you see on the screen. Supported as she was so selflessly by Joey, John and Rena, Heather somehow found the means to respond on cue, to maintain the concentration, to move in the desired direction, all the myriad of acting fundamentals that we take for granted as normal things to do in our normal lives.

More than any film I’ve made, this is a film that serves the actors. The actors, Heather foremost among them, serve the film exceptionally well.