ERROL FLYNN

Born with damn near nothing
Except your dreams to keep you warm
You live inside a movie
To hide you from the storm
Beautiful and reckless
You keep waiting for Hollywood to call
You’ll hate me when I leave you
But I won’t stand to see you fall
You think you’re Errol Flynn
And you’ll get away scott free
One day when you’re not Errol Flynn
My friend
You might remember me

Gambling in Kokopo
You risked your life to raise the stakes
Each day attempting to prove
You’ve got just what it takes
You’re restless and confused
You pray each night to be that shooting star
But somewhere along the way
You forgot who you really are

You think you’re Errol Flynn
And you’ll get away scott free
One day when you’re not Errol Flynn
I hope
You might remember me

You think you have to impress me
With your daredevil feats and tall tales
But buddy I was your one true friend
And that’s the bottom line when your bullshit fails
And don’t you forget it

You think you’re Errol Flynn
And you’ll get away scott free
One day when you come down to earth
Maybe
You might remember me

(C) Frank Howson 2019

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MY LONELY ROOM

In my lonely room
I conquer the world
In my dreams that failed
And paled to the loss of a girl
Here I shed my tears
Over bitter wasted years
That led me to this crowded place
Filled with memories and fears
I never dreamed my life would lead
To this lonely room
Since you cut me I bleed
In this lonely room

(C) Frank Howson. 2019

WHERE, IN THE WORLD

We live in a world where voicing the truth can have you socially banished.
Where children from the time they can walk are taught to not trust grownups. Then we grow up to not trust anybody.
Where Satanists teach the word of God.
Where marriage is for a few years at best and then you have the house to yourself.
Where an allegation can end your career.
Where originality will get you remembered after you die of hunger.
Where friendship is seen as an “investment”.
Where it’s okay to lie about everything and invent your own realty. This was once called “delusional” but now it’s called “faking it till you make it”. Make what?
Where giants are brought down by dwarves.
Where the mainstream media no longer has any credibility.
Where music is disposable and no one cares who wrote it, produced it or played on it.
Where the majority of movies are based on comic books.
Where integrity is seen as old fashioned.
Where you can steal someone else’s idea and not only call it good business but be able to look at yourself in the mirror without flinching.
Where to win at any cost is admirable.
Where a text message may offend unless you post LOL after it.
Where we know everything about ourselves and zip about others.
Where justice is not blind it is biased.
Where if your political candidate loses you must hate, riot, rally and unsettle things so that the winner can’t do their job. In the old days this was called being a sore loser after the majority of the people (which is democracy) have spoken.
Where our heroes are edited out of history because they were flawed in some way that doesn’t sit comfy with our current PC beliefs. Even Jesus lost his temper and took to moneylenders with a whip. Proving nothing other than he was human.
Where wars are invented for profits or to take the heat and attention off homeland scandals.
Where the past is never learned from because it is not respected.
Where people gleefully buy the lies that will bring about their own demise.
Politicians reach out to the poor in their election campaigns but cynically know they won’t resolve their situation as to do so would lose them their voter base. Keep the needy needing.
Where TV reality shows teach the young that if you lie, deceive, backstab, and play everyone against each other, you will win.
Where people fear the existence of a God because they fear being judged.
Where sex is mistaken for intimacy.

(C) Frank Howson. 2019

WHEN YOU WERE MY FRIEND

We eat to fill the void
We fight because we’re scared
We’re quick to get annoyed
When our hearts are bared
So we hum our favourite song
That takes us back
To the time we went wrong
On some beaten track
We were so smart for fools
And treated life as a joke
We made our own rules
Until something broke
These days not so cavalier
It gets like this
When the end is near
And you’d settle for a kiss
Or a genuine word
A tender touch
Or something you haven’t heard
Like I miss you so much
So here we are
Poles apart
Maintaining our dignity
Playing our part
I miss our wild years
And those nights that had no end
That knew no tears
When you were my friend

(C) Frank Howson 2019

SPEECH DELIVERED AT LONDON FILM FESTIVAL OPENING

I am very honoured to be here.

“What The Moon Saw” was the second movie that my production company Boulevard Films produced. Since then we have made another five films, all of very different genres. Yet “What The Moon Saw” is the one that seems to have taken on a life of its own.

Earlier this year this film was selected and shown in competition at the Berlin Film Festival where it was such a hit it came to the attention of Miramax who acquired all rights for North America and the U.K. It is the first Australian film ever sold to Miramax.

One of the most exciting experiences, after watching the Berlin Wall come down, was watching the movie with an East Berlin audience comprising of mostly children. It was the first film from the Western world they had seen and none of us knew what to expect. And yet, the enthusiastic audience reacted to the very same things that a Western audience responded go. The same laughter and the same tears. Well, except for when Mrs. Melrose accuses the playwright of being a Communist. I think they thought she was praising him.

The film transcends normal language barriers because it speaks in that most universal language of all – the language of the heart.

Young Steven Wilson lives inside all of us. He’s that child we left behind somewhere in our race to bigger things. Occasionally he resurfaces only to be told (by a grown-up) not to be so “childish”, or “You’re having too much fun”; driven away, by those who’ve lost their sense of joy and the appreciation of simplicity, with slogans like “Time is money”, “Act your age” and, the cruelest jab of all, “Grow up!”

At the beginning of the film young Steven is farewelled by his mum and dad as he leaves his small country town to get on a bus to go to the big city for the first time and spend a week with his Grandma. It is a long winding journey along the coast road as he looks out the window at wonders he has not seen before. And for us, the audience, it is a look at the magic of innocence.

I miss Steven Wilson. I miss his unique point of view. The way the world is so simple to him. Things are either good or bad – black or white – sunny or cloudy – and a grown-up’s word is taken literally. He couldn’t survive in the confusing contradictory greys in which we adults have to exist – so we drive him away. Back home to that other country. That simpler slower world where people do the right thing regardless of the cost. And dreams, not regrets, get you to sleep at night.

Thank you for making me feel so welcome. And my work so appreciated.

You’ve given me some warm memories to take back with me on my long bus ride home.

London 1990.

(C) Frank Howson 2019

ST. KILDA

The fun park is closed
The wind is streaked with ice
“Just for Fun” says the sign
“Cheap at Twice the Price!”
The night life is dead
I walk these streets alone
Just a kid when I left
Now a man’s come home

St. Kilda by the sea
St. Kilda at dawn
This is where I lived
Where I was born
I can still hear my father’s voice
Ringing through our back street home
Still see my mother’s tearful eyes
When I left to roam
Now I stand at this empty house
A prodigal alone

The beach shack is gone
The gang have moved away
“All for one” we had pledged
But it’s one for all today
The sea beats the rocks
My heart it beats too fast
They say some have no future
They just repeat the past

Oh why should I care?
To care you hurt too deep
“God is dead!” screams a broken man
All I want is sleep
The kid is back in town
The years can take their toll
I stand in the dim light of the morning
A ghost of a lost soul

Still see my mother’s tearful eyes
When I left to roam
Now I stand at this empty house
Where once there stood a home

(C) Frank Howson 2019

MR. WILLIAMS PASSED AWAY TODAY

A million flowers
A million cards
And an unfinished play
A lonely room
Filled with lonely dreams
Mr. Williams passed away today

A hotel lobby
Is under siege
For an expose
The daily press
Want a photograph
Mr. Williams passed away today

Mr. Brando’s unavailable for comment
And Blanche ain’t been seen for years
The streetcars dim their headlights
So a city can cry its tears

Two sailors argue
As theatres close
All around Broadway
They want some light
But they haven’t heard
Mr. Williams passed away today

(C) Frank Howson 2019