The Castle

In this small Australian comedy, Michael Caton stars as Darryl Kerrigan, a contented, mildly eccentric family man with an easy laugh and a quick compliment for his wife's cooking. Darryl, his wife, and his four children live in domestic bliss in a ramshackle yet proud domicile neighboring the airport. But that serenity is threatened when the government issues a compulsory acquisition order, which means the Kerrigans must vacate their home to make way for an airport expansion project. And even though he makes a hobby of buying useless junk as long as he gets it for bargain price, no amount of compensation money will convince Darryl to relinquish his "castle," which stores the family's collective memories and symbolizes their unique character. Darryl organizes the other affected neighbors, hires a bumbling attorney/family friend, and pursues his battle in court. However, he soon discovers he needs more than gumption and spitfire earnestness to support a case in front of the magistrates of Australia's high courts. The Castle was the first feature for director Rob Sitch (The Dish), who rose to prominence directing episodes of the satirical Australian television series Frontline. — Derek Armstrong

The Castle was lumped in with such late '90s comedic imports as The Full Monty and Waking Ned Devine, maybe because they all featured accented blokes challenging the government along a path dotted by absurdities. But the debut feature for Aussie director Rob Sitch is much rougher around the edges and simpler in purpose, not to mention more obscure. It's also aware of its modest scale in a way that his follow-up (The Dish) sometimes isn't. Sitch bestows the Kerrigan clan with a simple decency that might seem facile if the budget were bigger or the film stock cleaner. Their family unity — embodied most fondly by salty father figure Michael Caton — is entirely without irony or pretense. The youngest son's narration is refreshingly typical, peppered with colloquial uses of the word "reckon" and sentiments of unabashed paternal admiration. Sitch does flirt with naïveté by painting the group as utterly harmonious. But who needs a host of side conflicts, when the central David vs. Goliath tale has enough delightful permutations to keep the story rolling and the viewer laughing? The film possesses a deep love for the shabby pride of its characters, and is deceptively gifted at rendering them through enriching details. Look for Eric Bana, of Ang Lee's The Hulk, who makes an early career appearance as Darryl Kerrigan's son-in-law. — Derek Armstrong