The Coca-Cola Kid (Dusan Makavejev / Australia, 1985):

The line of irony is drawn from Wilder's One, Two, Three, "the world won't be free until Coke is available everywhere." The troubleshooter from Atlanta (Eric Roberts) goes to Sydney to increase the company's market numbers and, discovering a dry patch controlled by another soda merchant, assumes the worst: "What the hell is he, a Pepsi man?" Actually, the old-timer (Bill Kerr) is his own man, the owner of a steam-powered tutti-frutti juice factory who greets visitors with a shotgun when not mourning the death of his muse ("She never understood... ice," he sighs). To the grizzled individualist, the Yank is corporate imperialism in the flesh, to a starstruck hotel concierge he's a CIA agent, to a didgeridoo-playing bushman in the street he's a career opportunity ("Ring my agent"). Dusan Makavejev genially Down Under, with Local Hero in mind and his main actor's gung-ho mannerisms in hand. The reds of Coke trucks cutting through jungle greens and a line of Santa Clauses bobbing with bottle in hand to "Waltzing Matilda," seen by a nonplussed kangaroo with its arm in a cast. "No politics" for the Australian sound of a studio jingle, "as Australian as a shit sandwich." As the flaky secretary, Greta Scacchi is an irresistible comic-carnal force—she lolls in bed in a Saint Nick costume and unwraps herself in a flurry of feathers, and suddenly the erotic impishness of Man Is Not a Bird and Sweet Movie erupts from behind the cuddly Aussie eccentricity. "If you wanna break an omelet, you gotta lay a few eggs." Resnais' Mon Oncle d'Amérique contributes to the punchline. With Chris Haywood, Kris McQuade, Max Gillies, Tony Barry, Paul Chubb, Colleen Clifford, and Rebecca Smart.

--- Fernando F. Croce

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