MOVIE REVIEW : ‘BLISS’ IS OFFBEAT BUT RIGHT ON TARGET

“Bliss” (at the Beverly Center Cineplex) pulls us into the painfully funny nightmare world of middle-aged Sydney advertising executive Harry Joy (Barry Otto), felled by a near-fatal heart attack. When he regains consciousness after a coronary bypass, he feels so unhinged, having envisioned his own death, that he believes he must attempt to find out whether he’s gone to hell or has simply gone mad.

Harry’s search for the truth launches a free-wheeling and superbly sustained odyssey as distinctively surreal and satirical as that of “Brazil.” So outrageous and offbeat is “Bliss” that it had trouble getting a release in Australia. Nonetheless, it became a prize-laden, critical and box-office success on home ground, outperforming even “Rambo.”

Yet “Bliss,” which director Ray Lawrence and writer Peter Carey adapted from Carey’s 1982 novel, whipped up a storm of controversy at Cannes. It’s easy to understand why, for it’s the kind of film that can quickly become a turn-off unless you give it a chance. No sooner has Harry been introduced as a sweetly wistful suburbanite with a gift for storytelling, which seemingly beguiles family and friends, than we’re shown with shocking bluntness what these people are really like.

His studious-looking son (Miles Buchanan), supposedly heading for med school, is in fact a drug dealer who’s willing to supply his sister (Gia Carides) if she’ll service him sexually, an act she performs while imagining he’s a Nazi stormtrooper. And when Harry’s restaurateur pal (Jon Ewing) rightly suspects that Harry’s wife (Lynette Curran) and his business partner (Jeff Truman) are having an affair, we see the couple immediately having a go at it on their table at Ewing’s restaurant at the height of lunch hour (it should be pointed out that Australian humor, by and large, is a lot earthier than ours).

Thankfully, “Bliss” has much more on its mind than affronting bourgeois sensibilities. After his brush with death, Harry becomes determined to do good, which means dropping a $2-million saccharine account when he becomes convinced that the sweetener can cause cancer. When the client tries to point out that the whole Western culture is built on cancer-causing products, “Bliss” becomes increasingly a cautionary tale about the way mankind is polluting the environment. Beyond this, it suggests how very hard it really is for people, conditioned to competitive, self-destructive modern society, to achieve harmony with one another and with nature--there’s no regaining paradise without persistence and patience.

Not nearly as despairing as “Brazil,” “Bliss” similarly expresses its familiar enough ideas and emotions with a dazzling freshness and comic originality. In a way, “Bliss” may be more a feat of the imagination than “Brazil” because it doesn’t rely on elaborate futuristic settings and spectacular special effects.

What “Bliss” does have is a sensational cast, with the runaway dottiness of a vintage Ealing comedy. Otto’s Harry is an endearing Everyman, and Helen Jones brings the natural look and forthright manner of a Tyne Daly to her role as a hooker with a firm belief in the nutritional benefits of honey. Then there’s Tim Robertson’s self-loathing copywriter, who’s kept track of all the hazardous products he’s helped to sell over the years, and Kerry Walker’s profit-minded mental institution operator, who asks rhetorically of the importance of making money, “At the end of the day, what else is there?,” a sentiment echoed precisely by Harry’s ambitious wife.

Although not without precedent, “Bliss” (rightly rated R) represents a bold departure from the genteel traditionalism of mainstream Australian movies. We’ll never be able to think of Australia or its cinema in quite the same way again. ‘BLISS’

A New World Pictures release of a Window III/New South Wales Film Corp. production. Producer Anthony Buckley. Director Ray Lawrence. Screenplay Lawrence, Peter Carey; based on Carey’s novel. Camera Paul Murphy. Music Peter Best. Art director Owen Paterson. Costumes Helen Hooper. Film Editor Wayne LeClos. With Barry Otto, Lynette Curran, Helen Jones, Miles Buchanan, Gia Carides, Tim Robertson, Jeff Truman, Paul Chubb, Bryan Marshall, Robert Menzies, Nique Needles, Kerry Walker, Jon Ewing, George Whaley.

Running time: 1 hour, 45 minutes.

MPAA rating: R (under 17 requires an accompanying parent or adult guardian).