
After the coup has been foiled, Stacey (Ray Barrett) meets Cathy, the child/woman (Janet Scrivener), at a café. As her godfather, he had given her a golliwog, when she was eight. Now he buys her another and ruminates on what it has all meant, with a Salvation Army band playing in the background. He says goodbye to the paradise she represents. Summary by Paul Byrnes.
A memorable piece of romantic narration brings the subtext to the surface and the film to a close. The idea of an older man’s longing for the pure beauty of a young woman is pretty standard in hard-boiled American detective fiction, but here it’s given a touch of literary grace, to elevate the emotions. Stacey has been resisting temptations all through the movie, unless they involve alcohol. There are many references to the Book of Genesis – including snakes and pieces of fruit. Stacey is thus a kind of fallen angel in the Garden of Eden. Saving Cathy is his bid for redemption.
His final joke, speaking into the banana, is because he has found out the banana conceals a listening device.
On Queensland’s Gold Coast in the early 1980s, a disgraced former cop, Michael Stacey (Ray Barrett), sets out to find a missing girl, the daughter of a senior politician. Stacey is down on his luck and desperate for a drink. His ex-wife has left him, he misses his dog Somare, and the publisher cancels his book about police corruption. He plunges into the Gold Coast’s nightmarish world of corruption, sex, violence, cult religion and dirty politics. He gets beaten up, finds and loses the girl and stumbles upon an unlikely plot for a military coup. People keep dying around him and he must continually resist the temptations put before him. Surviving in Surfer’s Paradise is not easy.
Goodbye Paradise is an odd but compelling attempt at an Australian film noir – part political satire, part existential romance, part philosophical allegory. Ray Barrett gives one of the best performances of his long career as the whisky-sodden ex-deputy Police Commissioner who’s trying for one last grab at redemption. His world-weary Raymond Chandler-style narration, co-written by Bob Ellis and Denny Lawrence, is one of the film’s highlights, establishing a comic but rueful tone.
The film was made during the long and controversial years of Joh Bjelke-Petersen’s National Party government in Queensland, and the script is full of topical references that may now seem difficult to believe. In fact, there were strong secessionist sympathies in Queensland, and controversial schemes to search for oil on the Great Barrier Reef. Even so, the film’s subplot about a political coup was never quite credible, even as satire. What still works well is the film’s evocative picture of the Gold Coast as paradise lost – a sleazy fun park, full of gaudy symbols (bananas and pineapples everywhere), tawdry politics and bus tours of old ladies having a sing along. The film has many great lines, but one of the best is: 'This town is what Australians have instead of an afterlife’. Ray Barrett’s final soliloquy, shown in clip 3, is a superb rounding off of the theme – that paradise is youth, and everyone must eventually say goodbye to it.
Notes by Paul Byrnes
This clip shows Michael Stacey (Ray Barrett) buying a golliwog for his goddaughter, Kathy (Janet Scrivener), whom he then meets at an outdoor cafe. Young people are sitting at the surrounding tables and a Salvation Army band plays in the background. After Kathy leaves, the clip cuts to a shot of Stacey walking with his dog on the beach. Dawn breaks and he 'signs off’ on a satirical note by speaking into a banana that contains a listening device. The character of Stacey provides a voice-over narration throughout.
Education notes provided by The Learning Federation and Education Services Australia
Michael buys a golliwog for his goddaughter, Kathy. He walks past a Salvation Army band and gives some coins to the smiling young woman collecting money for them. A small procession of bicycle-powered people-carriers goes past. The driver at the front of the procession gestures with his hands for those behind to keep moving.
Driver Chop, chop, ladies. The night is young.
A group of young people in a busy outdoor café move from one umbrella-covered table to another. They are holding ice-cream sundaes and drinks.
Michael Stacey (voice-over) I bought a golliwog for Kathy as I had 12 years before and waited calmly among young people being gentle with one another in the dark. Looking at them and thinking, what had happened? Certain old men wanting to surround and capture paradise. And what that meant – the strange bright place Australians went to instead of dying. I realised paradise is youth and all of us in our middle age and old age try to recapture it in different ways. Like Lonely Buffalo did and Toddy and Ted Godfrey and the lady from Buttons and Bows and all those other old failures, like my good self, with nowhere to go but into the heads of the very young.
As Michael’s narration continues we see more young people in the outdoor café and eventually come to a table where he and Cathy are sitting.
Michael (voice-over) But the young are tougher than they seem and they know in the end what’s most important, which is to dance in their youth, make love and be adored in their proper season and believe all manner of things for a time, till the time ends and they know when it has. It’s written in the slow alteration of their cells and you can’t change that, however you try.
Cathy says goodbye, smiling, and Michael nods grimly. She takes a breath, acknowledging his sadness, and walks away.
Michael (voice-over) Cathy and I met and talked and parted, the way I knew we had to, and she knew too now and I raised my milkshake to her and wished her good luck and imagined her naked and kindly to my old age one last time, and took my old bones off into the early dawn. I thought about homes and families and Kate and everything I’d loved and lost and tasted once and been afraid of ever since I was a schoolboy here, in this strange town.
Michael walks away from the café and onto the beach.
Michael (voice-over) I wasn’t sadder or wiser or perceptively older but I knew how old I was and that was good too in its way.
Michael picks up a banana and speaks into it.
Michael Now is the time for all good men to come to the aid of their hometowns. Signing off.
Michael drops the banana. He is joined by a dog and jogs towards a group of glittering high-rise buildings.
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