He Died with a Falafel in His Hand is fairly good film that is based on a successful book and play of the same title. It is mainly about a down-and-out Australian writer named Danny (Noah Taylor) and the somewhat peculiar company he keeps. He lives a moderate existence with a rag tag group of friends and seems to be in that perpetual funk of getting nothing much done in his life.
The film is more or less incident driven as opposed to plot or character driven. Things happen, Danny reacts in a dead-pan kind of way and then moves on. In the first part, which takes place in Brisbane, a mystifying woman named Anya Romane Bohringer) shows up to rent the place it leads to the ultimate destruction of the house.
Then he moves to Melbourne and finds darkness and rain. Plus, he is dogged by a couple repo men who are after him for a huge credit card debt. Finally, he end in Sydney where life is clean but deceptively pleasant. It's here that he loses his good friend - a junkie who dies with a falafel in his hand. All along Danny seems to be looking for a good friend who he can share all of his ennui with and he finds that with one tried and true tomboyish woman friend named Sam (Emily Hamilton).
The film, directed by Richard Lowenstein, throws together a whole bunch of scenes some that stick (a back yard pagan ritual that is broken up by Neo-Nazis) and some that fall flat (the members of one house sing along together while watching TV).
While watching the film I was reminded of the films of Hal Hartley: Not only from a stylistic point-of-view - such as the framing of each scene - but also the wry line delivery by the actors. The hard edge humor of the film is akin to something like an Alex Cox film. The film also makes passing references to Godard, Brecht, Buster Keaton, Robert Bresson and a good number of literary figures. Suffice it to say that the film is not quite as good as the many references that it makes but it is worth a look.