It seems to be that stories of war, whether they are films, history books or otherwise, focus on one of two perspectives: the Anglo-American, or the German. It’s either English speaking diggers and GIs, or it’s blonde-haired, blue-eyed Nazi’s sauntering around and Heil-ing Hitler. It’s not often that Russian participation is considered, nor is the impact that World War II may still be having on the current generation of young Russians.

Within the doom and gloom of today’s economy and the decreasing quality of life as a result, people increasingly enjoy reminiscing about earlier times. Going back to a more carefree period in history for the purposes of a film often signifies a lack of satisfaction with where someone is and often who someone is, and a director’s objective is often to express that notion with regards to their homeland. Valeriy Todorovskiy’s Russia certainly has identity issues to this day after a tumultuous history that has served up corruption, civil wars and a great social and economic divide. The questions of identity and social standing are shown in Todorovskiy’s Stilyagi (Hipsters) by instances of popularity and the ability to face evils throughout adversity.

Be wary if you ever come across Shorts director Robert Rodriguez on the street. Depending on whether he’s in Spy Kids or Grindhouse mode, he’d either cheerfully greet you and your children with digital rainbows spurting from his fingertips, or he’d run at you, foaming at the mouth, clutching a bloodied machete (which coincidently is the name of his next film). Catch him in Shorts mode however, and you’ll get a bit of both. One on hand, it’s a kid-friendly caper that’s drunk a bit too much CGI-spiked red cordial. But on the other, Rodriguez has hacked-up the film’s chronology into five bite-sized ‘shorts’, crafting it into a PG-rated Pulp Fiction.

It’s astonishing that Van Diemen’s Land is the first Australian convict film since 1927’s For the Term of His Natural Life, when you consider that this country was largely founded by settlements for UK prisoners. So as foundation of our past, the question of why this part of our history remains largely untold begs to be answered. The state of Tasmania has had its fair share of notoriety that stretches across the 19th and 20th centuries, but there has only been an increased interest in learning about the past in recent years (rather than refusing to acknowledge it). From the end of the silent era to now there has been enormous progression in cinema across the world, but within Australia, Van Diemen’s Land is all the richer being told today – because audiences can, and will, accept and learn from the brutality and horror of these events.

The disclaimer at the beginning says it all, “You should know up front, this is not a love story.”

And essentially, it is not. How can it be, when one of the parties does not even believe in the concept of love?

Charlie and Eddie go to White Castle in Richard J. Frankland’s Stone Bros., but are discriminated against once they arrive. Why? Because they’re indigenous Australians, and while they have a lot in common with the hilarious pot-smoking duo Harold and Kumar, the ‘White Castle’ in question is not a burger joint. Or if it were, Mc Reconciliation burgers would be in short supply.