One Hundred a Day (1973, Gillian Armstrong)

One Hundred a Day is a terrifying eight minutes. Rosalie Fletcher is a factory girl in the thirties and she’s in trouble. Her more worldly friends, Jenee Welsh and Virginia Portingale, know where she can take care of it. Day’s this grainy, high contrast black and white. In the factory, where the short spends most of its minutes, director Armstrong and cinematographer Ross King focus tight on Fletcher and her experience. There are asides with other workers, but the camera is mostly fixed on Fletcher, charting each of her panicked—or medically related—drops of sweat.

With just eight minutes, Armstrong doesn’t have a lot of time for an epical structure, but there’s a first and second act at least. The third act is just really abbreviated. In the first act, Fletcher’s friends take her to the nurse’s. The nurse, Eve Wynne, is terrifying. But situationally. Her house is medically sterile (the friends sit around and complain about the smell). She’s curt because they’re all breaking the law. She’s the scary lady who’s going to take away naive Fletcher’s baby. And, if the gossiping friends are right, possibly cost Fletcher her job and her life in post-procedure complications.

We never find out what Fletcher’s thinking. She never says how she’s feeling. We see it, in tight close-up, every micro-emotion moving across Fletcher’s expression as she slowly loses her composure.

The film is really loud—the factory wails around Fletcher, the conditions—when she’s in this situation—even more inhumane. It ratchets up the tension, just like everything else. Fletcher lays some of the gossip over action, except the action is just Fletcher working, thinking, sweating, and the gossip is all about the terrible possibilities. The second act of Day is probably five minutes and it seems like ninety. Armstrong matches the film to Fletcher’s perception of time. It’s awesome.

Most of Armstrong’s successes are with showcasing Fletcher, with how she and King shoot it, how she and David Stiven edit it; there aren’t many complex shots… at least not until the end when Armstrong all of a sudden does a wow transition pan. It’s a show-off move, perfectly executed, and changes the narrative distance a bit. That removal also positions the film more firmly on being detached from the question of anti-choice, which certainly seems like where it’s going to end, then doesn’t.

The film, it turns out, is about empathizing without necessarily understanding how to sympathize. Fletcher gets a lot of sympathy throughout, but she never gets any empathy, which just adds another layer to her situation.

One Hundred a Day is great.

:3/3Highly Recommended

CREDITS

Directed by Gillian Armstrong; screenplay by Armstrong, based in part on a novel by Alan Marshall; director of photography, Ross King; edited by David Stiven; produced by Storry Walton for the Australian Film, Television and Radio School.

Starring Rosalie Fletcher (Leilia), Jenee Welsh (Sadie), Virginia Portingale (Mabel), and Eve Wynne (Nurse).


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