Mostly driven by an obsessed media and our willingness to worship infamous antiheroes like Ned Kelly and Chopper Reid, Australia has a long-running fascination with crime and the people who commit it.

Australian filmmakers have tapped into that fascination for decades, delivering some of the country’s most memorable and celebrated films along the way. From The Stranger, Animal Kingdom, Nitram and Snowtown, to Two Hands, The Boys and even Getting’ Square and its underrated sequel Spit, crime stories continue to captivate audiences by exploring the darker corners of Australian society.

While many of those films focus on well-known criminals or create their own fictional characters, writer and director Davie Paterson’s impressive and unnerving proof-of-concept short film A Stable for Horses ventures into less familiar territory, shining a light on the Sharpies, a little-known youth gang culture that emerged in Australian suburbs during the 1960s and 1970s.

Known for their distinctive style and fierce loyalty, the Sharpies brought together blue-collar immigrants, Indigenous Australians and Anglo-Australians through a shared culture built around music, identity and belonging. While their reputation for violence often preceded them, the Sharpies also operated by a strict code, with loyalty and protection of their own sitting at the heart of the movement.

A Stable for Horses follows a young boy named Remy, played by Angus Farrand, as he prepares for a life-changing initiation. Along the way, his uncle Bucky, a brilliant Jeremy Waters, recounts the legend of Remy’s father and the tragic story of the Smith Street Sharps, weaving together themes of family, loyalty and inherited legacy.

Paterson is an award-winning Australian writer and director whose work often explores dark drama, crime and characters living with disability. A survivor and carrier of Cystic Fibrosis, Peterson has built an impressive career that includes international screenplay awards, mentorship under acclaimed filmmakers John Collee and Gregor Jordan, and recognition from prestigious competitions including Shore Scripts and the UK Film Festival.

Cinema Australia recently spoke with Paterson about A Stable for Horses, the forgotten history that inspired it, and why the Sharpies demand to be explored on film.

A Stable for Horses will screen at the St Kilda Film Festival on Thursday, 4 June. Details here. 

“The film is really in honour of the Sharps, and I wanted it to feel like a love letter to them. I wanted there to be a sense of nostalgia with this story so audiences could feel like they could relate to these characters.”

Interview by Matthew Eeles

Your films often spotlight characters with disabilities in a crime setting. Why is this important to you?

I was born with cystic fibrosis, and something that I find interesting is that I’m really put off when watching films and reading scripts where the characters are written so perfectly and people are unflawed. I think it sucks. It rings so untrue. So something I’m pretty passionate about is incorporating those everyday, realistic flaws into my characters and showing how beautiful they can be.

If at all, what impact has being a cystic fibrosis carrier and survivor had on your filmmaking career?

Well, there’s no certainty when you’re a filmmaker, especially a freelancer like myself. Filmmaking doesn’t fit into a 9am to 5pm schedule. Surviving filmmaking is tough. There’s an instability that you need to get used to. And something that I also experience with cystic fibrosis is that there’s an instability and an uncertainty to it.

Your short documentary Boné inspired and later led the rehabilitation initiative ‘Mates on the Move’ by the Prisoners Aid Association of NSW. That film obviously had an impact within the prison system, but what impact did it have on you, and how you viewed the power and influence that film can have?

People don’t think about the recidivism and the systemic issues that come with prison. And I guess when you look at some of the Nordic countries that have really great rehabilitation initiatives and a really low re-offending rate, and how good that is for their society and their economy, you look at that and say, “Well, we’ve got a real problem here in Australia.” And I think, for me, that film really highlighted that error that we have here, and it was great to have something to do with trying to curb it. I was lucky enough to meet Boné, who actually knew that I come from a really big family, and someone who actually knows my family. As soon as we sat down and started talking, I knew that there was a great documentary to be made here. It was a really neat exercise.

Do you prefer documentary filmmaking over narrative filmmaking?

I prefer narrative, but I’m still partial to documentary filmmaking. I also love to watch a good documentary. I just saw The Perfect Neighbor recently. It was amazing. But I think narrative is something that I’m just so drawn to because I grew up watching films, not documentaries.

You’re credited as a co-writer of the 2024 film, Take My Hand, which starred Radha Mitchell. Take us back to that time, and your involvement working on that film.

So that was a Bronte Studios production. They’ve made a couple of films over the years where they’ve brought me on at the end to polish up a script. With Take My Hand, it was very much John Raftopoulos’ story, which is about him and his wife’s experiences. John is not a writer, so it was about looking at that script and turning it into what would be a great film for them. It was a really nice experience, actually.

I had never heard of Sharpies prior to watching A Stable for Horses. For people like myself, give us an idea of who the Sharpies were.

Sharpies were a subculture of blue-collar folks from the suburbs. They ranged from kids to people in their late 20s who behaved and dressed a certain way, with extremely tight trousers that flared, Cuban-heel shoes, and tight tops and knits, and of course the mullet. That was the original Melbourne Sharpie look. It was the ’60s and ’70s, so attitudes were really shaped by the time. We had Australian troops sent to Vietnam, and the White Australia Policy had come to an end. The Indigenous referendum was happening in ’67, and the pill was introduced. The civil rights movement began, and it’s this tumultuous and divisive time. Our Prime Minister disappeared. In popular culture at that time, we had Australian pub rock emerging, and we had The Easybeats, Billy Thorpe and the Aztecs, Skyhooks, and AC/DC. We were watching shows like Skippy, which made a big splash around the world. And we were making a new show called Homicide, which was our first foray into the police procedural. And so, with all that in mind, we’re in these hard times, and the youth reacts to what’s happening in politics. There’s an era of hopelessness among young working-class Australians where it felt like they would never get ahead and all they had were their mates. So they act out, and it becomes known that these suburban kids who dress sharp and listen to the music of guys like Lobby Loyde are known to be violent. And when they meet the kids from the coast, the Surfies, it gets incredibly violent.

What was their incentive?

Their incentive was mateship. It’s a community and loyalty. It’s all of that. It was a way of life when you were low on hope and low on dough.

How far did their net spread across Australia?

They were big in Melbourne. That was where they really began before they spread to Sydney. My uncles would call themselves Sydney Sharps. They were also in Perth and Queensland, but they weren’t only in the cities. Small towns would have a Sharpie element, which I think is really cool.

I’m interested to know more about the Indigenous members of these gangs. What was it exactly that drew Indigenous members to the Sharps?

It was unifying. It was about being unified with other blue-collar workers. There were also a lot of immigrant children that were Sharpies, a lot of Italians and Maltese and Indigenous people. And it was a real melting pot. There were Vietnamese Sharpies. And again, it’s about being poor. It’s about being blue-collar and not having the opportunities that some of the other wealthier suburbs and their children had.

You grew up with uncles who were Sydney Sharps. Describe that time from your perspective.

My mum was one of nine, so I’ve got a lot of uncles and aunties. She grew up with twelve people living in a two-bedroom terrace in Newtown back when it was a slum. So I guess coming up under those folks meant that you grew up hearing stories. There was often an element of crime to these stories, such was the time. Not that my mother’s family were criminals, but being able to tell a story is like a currency in the criminal world, and it’s a way to get by. And I just couldn’t get enough of those stories growing up. I soaked it all in. I was so interested in the standover men and their stories, and the armed robbers and the Sharpies and the robberies gone wrong and the comedy of it, because often they’re funny. They’re real characters, man. And it really bums me out when I watch Australian TV or Australian films and I listen to the criminal dialogue and I just think, “Oh, this writer has no idea. They’ve never met a criminal in their life.” So I guess that’s why this period interests me so much.

Were these people you looked up to?

Yeah, big time. They were like gods to me.

I don’t want to sound too dramatic, but did you ever feel a sense of danger or unease in your life at that time?

Not at all, no. I felt safer, if anything. I felt protected. And again, it should be said that my mum’s family aren’t criminals, but I don’t think they realised that they’re a bit rough. But the stories are pretty hairy and they’re harrowing, and we would hear them really young, and I was really impressionable. A lot of those stories are really violent as well, but they’re then told with this weird humour thrown in that makes it safe somehow. And I guess I’m always trying to find that humour.

Were you documenting these stories by writing them down?

I wasn’t. I was just very impressionable. I’ve got a good memory. I don’t remember names. I don’t remember dates or birthdays, unless they’re really important. But I remember a line from a film that I saw 10 years ago, even if it meant nothing to me. I don’t know why that is. I don’t know how my brain works, but it remembers all of these stories.

How much of this era is documented and what was the extent of your research?

Apart from really my own experiences of hearing these stories growing up, there are a couple of books out there by Julie Mac, a Melbourne woman who is an ex-Sharpie, who has written three books about Sharpies. They’re very anecdotal, and they include some really great pictures. There aren’t a lot of pictures from the era, and that really bums me out. I feel like we’re really missing out on the whole story. While developing this film, we’ve been saying that the Scots have Trainspotting, and the Brits have This Is England, and the Americans have Kids, so Australia needs its Sharpie film.

Do fragments of Sharpie culture still exist today?

I think they have to, right? I mean, you look at Amyl and the Sniffers and how they appear and what they sound like and their abrasiveness and just how fucking cool and refreshing that is. And you go, well, they’re cut from Sharpies. It’s great. Whether it’s in their blood or not, they’re Melbourne-based, obviously, so there must be.

The Australian media isn’t as obsessed with gang culture in this country as it once was. It feels like that all ended around the time of Carl Williams’ death. Would you agree?

I do. And it’s the same with the films we’re currently making. There was once a time when we really flogged the use of heroin and drug culture and gang culture in our films. We made some of our best films during that time, in my opinion. And then maybe the audience waned a little, but it’s all evolutionary and it’ll all come back.

A Stable for Horses is a tribute to, and an acknowledgement of, your Uncle Kieren, who passed away a few weeks before you wrapped shooting. Was he aware that you were making a film about him?

He was, and I wouldn’t say that it’s about him, but he definitely was the chief storyteller, especially when it came to the Sharps and the bad old days. But I guess the film is really in honour of the Sharps, and I wanted it to feel like a love letter to them. I wanted there to be a sense of nostalgia with this story so audiences could feel like they could relate to these characters. That can be a bit of a task when you’re making a short film because there’s never enough time for your audience to truly get to know a character.

Are you a fan of short films in general?

I am, but I just really want to make this story a feature film now.

I think it’s important to emphasise when a short film is actually a proof of concept for a feature film, like A Stable for Horses is. I know it’s early days, but what is the potential of this becoming a feature film?

It’s definitely on the cards. There’s quite a bit of buzz. It’s really funny going to Cannes and being at the Marché du Film because you see the forecast of what people are buying and watching. And I guess drama is something that you have to work quite hard at getting into streamers and into cinemas.

Everyone wants horror at the moment.

It’s a really genre-hungry market. And so we were sort of fighting against that. I wrote on a genre film for Hopscotch years ago, when they were still called Hopscotch, and we went through all these drafts. I was working with John Collee and Gregor Jordan. At the end of it, they turned around and said, “Yeah, look, we went to Cannes and they’re not really into genre right now, so we’re just going to shelve this.” And I was like, “Oh gosh, all that work.” That was my first writing assignment, and I realised that actually happens a lot. But we do have a good shot at this film because it’s a really original and fantastic fucking story. And I guess where we’ve been cheeky with this short film version is that the middle of A Stable for Horses acts like a trailer for our feature, like a vignette, and I wanted those vignettes to really swim like old memories.

That’s very interesting. So how far along in development are you on the feature film?

I’ve been working on a script for a little while. Obviously, we’ve got other jobs that come through. I was just working on a script with Kriv Stenders, and things like that take me off this project. But I think we’re about 70% there in terms of script development. I guess it’s hard to work on the ones you’re really passionate about because I just want everything to be perfect, but that’s not the way that you should write your first drafts, obviously.

In Australia, if we make one successful film within a certain genre, then every other film made within that genre is compared to that film. If it’s a comedy, then we ask if it’s as funny as The Castle. If it features a wedding, we ask if it’s as good as Muriel’s Wedding, or if it’s set in the Outback, it’s compared to Wake in Fright. Obviously, A Stable for Horses is going to be compared to Animal Kingdom. Was that film a reference for you, and maybe you can tell us about some of the other films you’ve referenced here.

It’s interesting how we always compare new Australian films to the ones that came before them. I totally agree. Animal Kingdom wasn’t a reference for us. I was really careful about that, actually, because I knew that a film like this would be compared to those other films. I didn’t want it to be the same. I’ve really looked at films like This Is England by Shane Meadows and La Haine by Mathieu Kassovitz in terms of the ensemble and their attitude and their societal position. Spike Lee’s adaptation of 25th Hour was another one, with that brilliant “fuck you” monologue about New Yorkers and the boroughs. I love films about ensembles that speak to a certain time, like Sidney Lumet’s Dog Day Afternoon. And I don’t think there’s a better script out there than Network.

Having now made a proof-of-concept short film for a feature film, are you ever worried that you’re teasing too much and that audiences may become disinterested?

No. I mean, the more people who are intrigued or teased, the better. If no one knows about it, it’s harder to get going.

There’s so much incredible talent involved in this film behind the scenes, but I want to make note of your cinematographer, Alexander Naughton, who recently shot one of my favourite Australian films so far this year, Yesterday Island. Can you talk to us about working with Alexander here and creating this visual aesthetic for A Stable for Horses?

There was another DOP that we were about to work with, and it didn’t happen. It looked like the film was maybe going to have to be put on ice for a year. We had a long list of cinematographers that we really wanted to work with. Alex was at the top of the list. So I called him, pitched it, and really quickly he was in. As soon as he came on board, everything fell into place. And we’re very lucky to be so aligned with someone who is so easy to work with. I was happy to leave the visuals to Alex. As a director, I’m better at working with actors. My wife is an actor, and a lot of our friends are actors, so I had a pretty clear vision for the frames and the composition. I’d spent a lot of time on it, and Alex and I talked a lot about that in pre-production, and it was so impressive seeing them come to life through him. He has got such a beautiful eye. You can’t have an ego as a director, so I’m so happy for someone else to make the calls visually if they have a better idea than me. I just want the film to be good, man. I had a no-asshole policy on set that really trickled down, I think. We were pressed, we’re working with kids, babies, animals, cars, a weapon, ’60s vintage Australian currency, and a lot of locations. For a short, it was a bit of an undertaking, but we had a really nice time.

How much fun did the actors have working on a project like this? I know he doesn’t have a lot of lines, but Angus Farrand, who plays Remy in the film, is very impressive.

We had such a big cast working on this film. That’s where I’m very lucky to know a lot of really talented actors. We had Jeremy Waters with his beautiful gruffness through his narration. I love Jeremy. He also runs the Outhouse Theatre Company. He’s an amazing actor. John Harding I’ve known for years and years. He was in my first short film, and I talked to him about being in this for about a year and a half. In that time, he learned all about the Sharpies and was growing his mullet out. And he was getting the Sharpie shuffle down, listening to Lobby Loyde and the Coloured Balls. So he was all in. It was great.

Are you hoping for these actors to return to their roles for the feature film version?

Everyone. All of them. Definitely. They’re all great, and they’re all so easy to work with, and they’re such pros. We had a ball. I think we squeezed all of our stress out in pre-production. That was the idea anyway, so that we could just have fun on the shoot. It was so much fun. And in spite of the nostalgia and the sadness that we’re trying to portray here, it was a really great time.

A Stable for Horses will screen at the St Kilda Film Festival on Thursday, 4 June. Details here.