The Sundowners (1960), directed by Fred Zinnemann

Once upon a time, long before Crocodile Dundee and Mad Max, back before Peter Weir and Nicolas Roeg, if people thought about movies, they certainly did not think about Australia. The continent down under did not produce movies that were successful in the rest of the world, nor did Hollywood make movies about Australia. Fred Zinnemann's The Sundowners was the first major film with an Australian setting and plot. 1960 being long before the celebrity of Aussie stars like Mel Gibson and Judy Davis, the film was cast with non-Australian principals: as a pair of itinerant sheepherders, there were Robert Mitchum and Deborah Kerr. Peter Ustinov played an eccentric factotum, while Glynis Johns was a pretty and vivacious innkeeper.

The plot was a simple one: it is the story of Paddy Carmody (Mitchum) and his family, wife Ida (Kerr), and son Sean (Michael Anderson Jr). They are rootless nomads, who go from town to town herding sheep. Ida is tired of this homeless life, and tries to persuade Paddy to put a down-payment on a farm. Their paths cross with Rupert Venneker (Ustinov), another rootless sort, who joins the journey of the Carmody family. They take a job shearing sheep which earns them a considerable sum, augmented by gambling winnings. Eventually, they earn enough to buy a farm, but will Paddy, rootless as always, consent to such a purchase?

As you can see, there is not much to the plot, and actually not all that much to necessarily tie it down to Australia: it could just as easily have been set in the American midwest. The Sundowners is just a simple domestic drama without the domus. It was much admired at the time of its release, winning multiple Oscar nominations, but nearly forty years later, one can see that there is not much to it. Whatever esteem you may hold The Sundowners in depends mostly on how much you like the characters and the actors playing them.

Personally, I found the film's main couple uninteresting. They fight because he drinks, gambles, and wanders, while she wants stability. He resents her because he thinks she is tying him down, while he wants his freedom. Kerr certainly is charming as the wife, not to mention beautiful, but her character was often unpleasant in her constant nagging. Meanwhile, Mitchum is always charming, with his hangdog, world-weary expression, but his character seemed like a complete bounder. Characters like these may be effective in literature, but are much more difficult to pull off in the movies, and they don't really work here.

Much more fun is the secondary couple of Ustinov and Johns. Ustinov is very full of himself as an expatriate Brit, and provides the film's finest comic moments. 1960 was a good year for him: he won an Oscar for his equally droll turn in Spartacus, though his Sundowners performance likely won him many of his votes. Glynis Johns, a favorite of mine, is a delight in her all-too-brief appearance as a barmaid. She is flirtatious and funny, while her uniquely husky voice is all things to all characters: she is a mixture of the sexy and the chaste. Johns won her only Oscar nomination for the role, but unfortunately did not win.

Fred Zinnemann, who won four Oscars over the course of his career, has never been remembered as an auteur. Critics, notably Andrew Sarris, have tended to underestimate him, however. A mere craftsman he may have been, but among craftsmen, he was a master. Although in The Sundowners he was saddled with a mostly placid script, he was able to direct a few exciting sequences, notably the climactic horse race, a sheep-shearing contest, and a brush fire.

The exteriors were filmed on location Down Under, one of the first major films to be done so, and to good effect: many of the shots show the beautiful, fresh, new quality Australia shares with part of North America. This is a side of Australia, the frontiersman side, that is rarely seen in the American popular media. Kerr and Mitchum both attempt Australian accents, with varying results (Kerr wins). The music is very atmospheric of life in Oz, with accordion and harmonica prominent. At its best, the music reminds one of Il Postino, at its worst, however, of the campy incidental music to Green Acres.

True, the script is not the greatest, but the performances, particularly Glynis Johns', are so appealing that one can't help but like The Sundowners. It is no masterpiece, to be sure. In fact, if anything, it is overly long and lacking in cohesiveness and plot thrust. At its best, however, it brings a smile to the face.

Three stars

Copyright 1998 by Dale G. Abersold 1