Larry Hand the then mayor of Sydney\u2019s Leichhardt council with film-makers Bob Connolly (left) and Robin Anderson. Photograph: Anthony Browell\/National Film and Sound Archive of Australia<\/p>\n
\u201cWhen we make five 90, 95-minute films, you live through a period of someone\u2019s life which is very often stressful, which is lonely, which has high stakes,\u201d Connolly says. \u201cAnd you really do develop a duty of care for the subjects.\u201d<\/p>\n
Connolly and Anderson\u2019s subjects were the incumbent mayor of an inner-western Sydney council, independent Larry Hand, and 11 disparate councillors, including four Labor party representatives whose dysfunction is the heart of the drama. The duo spent 10 months following these characters around, using up 60,000 feet of 16mm film.<\/p>\n
The idea that an observational documentary about local government could sustain a feature-length film was not immediately clear to commissioning executives. If it hadn\u2019t been for the couple\u2019s solid record of producing consistently brilliant documentaries it may never have been approved.<\/p>\n
The couple\u2019s first film, Franklin River Journey (1980), was followed by what became known as the Highland trilogy: First Contact (1983), <\/a>which was nominated for an Oscar, Joe Leahy\u2019s Neighbours (1988) and Black Harvest (1992).<\/p>\n double quotation markThe mayoral contest was a wonderful piece of drama. It was almost too wonderfulBob Connolly<\/p>\n Shifting their focus to an urban landscape was serendipitous. In 1993 Connolly met his loyal mayor, Hand, when he asked for help to fight a development in Glebe. He was impressed by Hand\u2019s ability to handle conflict.<\/p>\n \u201cLarry was smart, he was well educated, he obviously was a good politician, he was respectful,\u201d Connolly says. \u201cI think he quickly formed an opinion about the rights and wrongs of disputes, but never let that be shown.\u201d<\/p>\n Meanwhile, a project they had planned in Fiji fell through and they needed a new idea for a film.<\/p>\n \u201cI was putting out the garbage one day, and I remembered Larry had said to me \u2018what you\u2019ve got to remember about councils is that they\u2019re a clearinghouse for conflict\u2019,\u201d Connolly says.<\/p>\n \u201cSo we thought that\u2019s a good idea for a film: the spreading suburbia and a lot of the decisions being made by the council.\u201d<\/p>\n Connolly approached Film Australia. \u201cMy gut feeling was that something interesting would very likely happen, but I couldn\u2019t guarantee it,\u201d he says.<\/p>\n Chris Oliver, who was an executive producer at Film Australia when they pitched their remembers telling them: \u201cPlease tell me you\u2019re joking\u201d.<\/p>\n Oliver said when he was shown footage of Hand in action he thought he had a \u201cclassic laconic larrikin feel about him\u201d and approved the project. Funding was approved under Film Australia\u2019s National Interest program.<\/p>\n When filming started in December 1993 the mayoral election was 10 months away, and they had no plans to feature the political manoeuvrings in the run-up. It simply hadn\u2019t occurred to them. \u201cWe went to a whole lot of site inspections and got some great stuff and then Robin looked at me and said \u2018I\u2019m getting worried\u2019,\u201d Connolly says.<\/p>\n \u201cWe\u2019d been at it six weeks and we were realising that everything was mosaic. There were a whole lot of small conflicts but no overarching narrative.\u201d<\/p>\n Photograph: NFSA<\/p>\n A conversation in a pub in Balmain after a site inspection changed everything. \u201cWe heard there\u2019s going to be a shit fight this year because [ALP councillor] Evan Jones wants Larry out,\u201d Connolly says.<\/p>\n Suddenly they had a dramatic narrative: it wasn\u2019t the councillors\u2019 relationship with the ratepayers, it was the councillors\u2019 relationships with each other.<\/p>\n The opening scene of the film is a caucus meeting at which the ALP members do not hide their dislike for each other. Connolly still marvels at the access they had to a Labor caucus meeting, which he believes had never been filmed before.<\/p>\n \u201cWe shot that scene three weeks before the mayoral election, and everything in the film was shot after that sequence. We shot 50,000 or 60,000 feet of film and we used virtually none of it.\u201d<\/p>\n Connolly says none of the extraordinarily candid scenes in the film would have been possible had they not spent months quietly observing the action until the councillors forgot they were there while they engaged in the universal practice of number crunching.<\/p>\n \u201cThe classic example of that was in the early weeks we camped in Larry\u2019s office and every now and again there\u2019d be a very sensitive phone call coming in, some sort of politically ticklish thing, and he\u2019d say, \u2018look, I\u2019m really sorry, but would you mind just going out for this?\u2019. Well, about six or seven, eight weeks later, that had all gone.\u201d<\/p>\n Hand allowed the couple to film him as he made calls and tried to drum up support to serve as mayor for a fourth year. Adopting a conspiratorial tone Hand would look into the camera and say things no one would want to be heard saying publicly, such as: \u201cShe\u2019s a dirty rotten traitor\u201d; \u201cShe\u2019ll vote for Kath [Hacking] on the basis that she\u2019s hopeless\u201d and \u201cI find it so unethical\u201d.<\/p>\n skip past newsletter promotion<\/a>Free newsletter |When needed<\/p>\n Sign up to Breaking News Australia<\/p>\n Get the most important news as it breaks<\/p>\n after newsletter promotion<\/p>\n Connolly says Hand became so comfortable with the camera in his office that \u2018it was all totally natural\u2019. Photograph: Joel Pratley\/The Guardian<\/p>\n Connolly: \u201cEvents are unfolding in this office, and we\u2019re capturing them without having to do anything but point the camera. And the reason is that he has become comfortable with us being there. We became a sounding board for Larry. And it was all totally natural.\u201d<\/p>\n The film screened at more than 40 international film festivals and won multiple awards. At the now defunct Valhalla Cinema in Glebe, Rats in the Ranks played for five months and box office takings were more than $120,000, which according to Oliver, was a record for a feature documentary at the time. It has cemented its place as a critical masterpiece and is still available to rent on streaming services and the National Film and Sound Archive<\/a>.<\/p>\n Oliver says it \u201cwas the first real insiders\u2019 fly-on-the-wall treatment of political trading\u201d and it resonated across cultures.<\/p>\n In the New York Times, Janet Maslin wrote that Rats in the Ranks appreciates \u2018\u2018the dauntless energy and sheer Shakespearean conniving it takes to stay afloat\u2019\u2019 in the \u2018\u2018shark-infested waters\u2019\u2019 of local politics.<\/p>\n One of best known scenes in the film is one in which Anthony Albanese, then assistant general secretary of the ALP in NSW, refused to appear on camera at a meeting of the Labor caucus at Bar Italia.<\/p>\n Unable to agree among them on who should be the mayoral candidate, Albo famously advised them to pull a name out of a hat.<\/p>\n \u201cI got presented with a trophy for the best non-appearance in a feature film,\u201d Albanese told Guardian Australia in 2019<\/a>. \u201cI dunno where it is now, but I\u2019ve still got it somewhere\u201d.<\/p>\n![\"\"](\"https:\/\/www.newsbeep.com\/uk\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/09\/1790465052_81_2998.jpg\")
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