Screen worlds
The story of film, television and digital culture
review by Andrew Pike
Screen Worlds is extraordinary for what it aspires to cram into a relatively small gallery, deep in the maze of buildings in Federation Square in central Melbourne.
Entrance to 
    Screen Worlds
      
    Australian Centre for the Moving Image
Entrance to Screen Worlds
photograph by Mark Farrelley
Australian Centre for the Moving Image
The exhibition seems to be designed on the mosaic principle, with every centimetre of space used for optimum audio or visual activity and effect. It presents a veritable cascade of audio-visual riches. I remember Margo Neale, the principal curator of the National Museum of Australia's exhibition of Emily Kame Kngwarreye paintings that toured Japan in 2008, saying that, given a truly free hand, she would mount her exhibition with just one painting on a large white wall. Screen Worlds is the polar opposite of Margo Neale's dream, but equally valid in a different way.
Behind all of the activity provided by the huge range of 240 screens lies an ambitious aim: to tell 'the remarkable story of the moving image — its past, present and future'. The scope sweeps across local (Melbourne) history, scans national developments, and places them all in international and multicultural contexts. It ranges chronologically from the prehistory of moving images to future directions in digital technology, via Bollywood and Hollywood and the screen cultures of the rest of the world. It even encompasses such subjects as the role of the media in 'shaping Australian identity', and occasional smatterings of film theory about the language of cinema and mass media culture.
Inside 
    Screen Worlds
    Australian Centre for the Moving Image
Inside Screen Worlds
photograph by Mark Farrelley
Australian Centre for the Moving Image
The exhibition is clearly intended to be permanent: it seems to have something to say about every aspect of the history and culture of film, television and digital media. Consistent with this all-encompassing scope, it is clearly aimed at a school market, embracing ample elements of populist youth culture (video games, computer animation and 'digital lifestyle').
The scope even includes feedback loops on two pillars in the middle of the exhibition, showing clips of exhibition visitors talking about their first film experiences. Playable video games and hands-on kids' activities are also provided in what is intended to be a fully engaging 'sensory experience'.
There's enough material and information here for a dozen exhibitions. The inputs, both sensory and factual, are sometimes a challenge for the viewer and some concentration is needed to savour any individual artefact, film clip or nostalgic memory. Repeat visits would be worthwhile and could indeed be necessary. My second visit revealed much that I had missed the first time. The bombardment of sound is sometimes disconcerting but the visual effect is often striking, with a retinue of large and small plasma screens filling every available space, with touch-menus or looped clips from a diverse range of sources.
It could all be too much if it were not for the fact that the labels, which are amply scattered through the exhibition, are literate and intelligent and help keep a sense of focus and structure. Sadly, though, some of the caption cards and wall panels were hard to read in the half-dark, and it was hard to tell sometimes to which object or screen they referred.
The Indigenous content of the exhibition is especially strong. Elements are integrated throughout the exhibition, and are also the focus of some specific sections. The exhibition covers some major Indigenous success stories, such as the work of CAAMA (the Central Australian Aboriginal Media Association). CAAMA's work, which is significant internationally in terms of Indigenous media initiatives, culminated in the success of the film Samson and Delilah, and it is pleasing to see this achievement detailed in the exhibition. Some individual Indigenous filmmakers (among them Warwick Thornton) speak in interviews in a dedicated section entitled The Blak Wave, and a strong impression is given of the wealth of Indigenous film activity in recent years. The work of Tracey Moffatt is also given special prominence, both as a visual artist of international renown, and as a filmmaker.
The exhibition as a whole offers information that every young viewer should know, and the choices are appropriately challenging — for example, clips from Japanese and Chinese classics scattered among more familiar and predictable items from Hollywood and Europe.
While the overview expressed through the captions seems quite valid, credibility is sometimes stretched with surprising claims and leaps of logic: for example, panels discussing the legacy of the Second World War in Europe move from the Italian Neo-realists into a discussion of the work of Melbourne-based photographer and filmmaker, Giorgio Mangiamele. Having Mangiamele and Rossellini referred to in the same section is quite an achievement and may need a more detailed rationale.
Similarly, the loop of clips illustrating 'New Wave' culture in the 1960s features three Australian films and one Japanese film (a relatively obscure one by Oshima, which, in colour and anamorphic wide screen and backed by a major Japanese studio, seems very different from the gritty 16-millimetre 'underground' spirit of the Australian examples, and especially the sample of 'hand-made' films by Albie Thoms). In cases like this, it takes a logical leap to connect some of the component parts to the main storyline: a fascinating intellectual proposition perhaps but possibly confusing for some viewers.
Viewing pods
    Australian Centre for the Moving Image
Viewing pods

photograph by Mark Farrelley
Australian Centre for the Moving Image

Three viewing pods in the centre of the exhibition contain a selection of Australian television and cinema advertising — a lively and interesting collection of an underestimated culture, but strangely lacking early examples of advertising such as Bertie the Aeroplane from the 1930s and some surviving silent clips. The main aim of the selection seems to be to entertain — all the examples seem to be very funny short films designed to amuse a mass audience. Not all historically significant advertising is funny or kitsch, and not all of it clever.
In an exhibition with so many mechanical and electronic devices for relaying images and sounds, breakdowns are inevitable and, on the day I first visited, there were quite a few gaps, with notices apologising for the 'tweaking' that was necessary in so young an exhibition.
As an older viewer who struggles somewhat with audiovisual saturation, I wonder whether some limitation in scope might have been helpful, given that the exhibition's holistic aspirations really demand a gallery of aircraft hangar scale. A focus on the Australian story would make sense, although it might not be as popular and youth-appealing. Similarly, to limit the story to film and television, eschewing digital games and i-phones, might also have made sense, but would have removed a section that obviously appeals to teenage audiences.

    Screen Worlds
    Australian Centre for the Moving Image
Screen Worlds
photograph by Mark Farrelley
Australian Centre for the Moving Image
So here we have it: an exhibition that ranges from early Mizoguchi to Star Wars, from 1920s German expressionism to Judy Garland singing in Meet Me in St Louis. But in terms of visual clips and sound-bites, nothing beats the excerpts from that media which has perfected rapid attention-grabbing — clips from TV news broadcasts, ranging from test cricket climaxes to the death of Princess Di. These clips are powerful even in the busy, noisy context of this exhibition — a context no less distracting perhaps than the home environment for which they were originally intended.
The exhibition opened in October 2009, but supporting literature about the show is still in production. Understandably, it is difficult documentation to prepare, given the global scope, but it will greatly help the exhibition by serving as a guide through this rich torrent of images, sounds and tantalising ideas.
Andrew Pike is a film historian, film distributor and documentary film-maker, and a board member of the National Film and Sound Archive of Australia.

Exhibition: Screen Worlds: The Story of Film, Television and Digital Culture
Institution: Australian Centre for the Moving Image
Development team: Conrad Bodman and Michael Connor
Exhibition space: 1650 square metres

Venue:

Australian Centre for the Moving Image, Federation Square, Melbourne