Remember that little puppet show that was around when we were kids? You know, the one where a maniacal Mr. Punch would beat his wife with a stick for no apparent reason? Well, it was called The Punch and Judy show, and the general conceit, looking back on it, seems a little messed up. I guess it should’ve been inevitable that in this era of shifting cultural norms and men-behaving-badly finally being held accountable, it wasn’t going to be long before someone decided to revisit this bizarre childhood institution and call it out for what it was.  

 In her first feature-length film as writer/director, Mirrah Foulkes has crafted a genuinely oddball journey, one that seems to hint towards the backwoods, makeshift worlds of Terry Gilliam with the medieval silliness of Monty Python’s Holy Grail. Derivations aside, the narrative and message of the film are surprisingly original, with a  screenplay that feels like a  cheeky concoction of satire and fantasy. It’s also no surprise that much of what is on screen is largely informed by the Me Too era, and pulls no punches in its diagnosis of a culture drunk on ego, narcissism and the glorification of male bravado.

 Set in the town of Seaside, which has little to offer in the way of hospitality, loutish locals regularly band together to watch ‘stonings’, in which citizens accused of being witches are pelted mercilessly with large stones. Most of these accusations are based on bizarre superstitions, like ‘someone staring at the moon… a little too long’. The landlocked town which is in no ways near the sea, is home to two puppeteers trying to catch the attention of talent scouts with their regular puppet extravaganza The Punch and Judy Show. Judy, played by a resilient Mia Wasikowska (Alice in Wonderland, Crimson Peak), is the more talented of the two, but is overshadowed by her gloating and dominant partner Punch, played with reckless abandon by Damon Herriman (Justified), who’s relentless boozing and childish ways, paint him as a textbook example of toxic masculinity. Following an altercation which cleverly mimics the very same sequence of events found in the actual Punch and Judy Show, proceedings start to assume the shape of a ridiculously satisfying feminist revenge tale.  

 Everything about the film holds nicely together. Filmed in rural Victoria with an all-Australian cast, the film evokes a distinctly European feel that creates an exciting sense of otherworldliness. There are solid performances all around, with Herriman’s Punch standing out as the maniacal antagonist of the film, all wild-eyed and full of obnoxious sentiment. Wasikowska is endearing as a long-suffering heroine, whose steely determination serves as the film’s heart and soul. Also of mention is Benedict Hadie as the Constable and presiding voice of reason, who adds light comic relief to the various absurdities.  The score provided by Francois Tetaz offers a bizarre mix of rustic strings and elements of 70’s prog-rock that gives Judy and Punch a defiantly contemporary edge. As does the soundtrack, with one memorable example being Leonard Cohen’s ‘Who by Fire’ playing over a sequence of witches practising tai-chi in the woods. None of it really makes sense on paper, yet it works, and this is a credit to Mirrah Foulkes’ knack for balancing comedy with horror, satire with a fairytale.

 With Judy and Punch, Mirrah Foulkes has truly produced something original and cunning. Her inversion of this classic childhood institution illustrates how greed, arrogance and a culture of toxic masculinity can become destructive and harmful.

3.5 out of 5 stars