The Resurgence of a Forgotten Film: A Tale of Love, Loss, and Cultural Revival
There’s something profoundly moving about a film that resurfaces after decades of obscurity, especially when it carries with it the weight of personal history and cultural significance. Going Down, a 1983 Australian film, is one such story—a raw, energetic snapshot of a bygone era that’s now getting a second life. But what makes this particularly fascinating is how its revival intertwines with the personal memories of James Reyne, the iconic Australian musician, and the tragic loss of Vera Plevnik, his former partner and the film’s star.
A Film Frozen in Time—and Memory
Going Down isn’t just a movie; it’s a time capsule. Set against the backdrop of Sydney’s vibrant yet gritty nightlife, it captures the chaos and camaraderie of young lives on the brink of change. Personally, I think what makes this film stand out is its unapologetic authenticity. It doesn’t glamorize the era—it simply lives in it. The share houses, the parties, the drug culture—it’s all there, unfiltered and unromanticized. Reyne’s reflection that it felt like “just life” is spot on. This wasn’t a Hollywoodized version of youth; it was the real deal.
What many people don’t realize is how rare films like this were in 1980s Australia. Female-centric stories, especially those that didn’t shy away from the messiness of life, were few and far between. Going Down dared to show young women as complex, flawed, and fiercely human. In my opinion, this is why it resonates even today—it’s a reminder of how far we’ve come, and how much further we still need to go.
The Tragedy That Brought It Back
The story of Going Down is inseparable from the tragedy of Vera Plevnik’s death. Her passing in a car accident in 1982, just as the film was nearing completion, adds a layer of poignancy to its revival. Reyne’s connection to the film is deeply personal—it’s a tribute to a lost love and a lost talent. But what this really suggests is that art, even when born out of sorrow, can transcend its origins. The film isn’t just a memorial; it’s a celebration of Plevnik’s brilliance and the era she inhabited.
One thing that immediately stands out is the role of chance in the film’s rediscovery. It took an American filmmaker, Elizabeth Pur
