The Kerrigans are a mild-mannered middle-class Australian family living in a small suburb on the outskirts of Melbourne. They’re led by the mischievous but resourceful Daryl (Michael Caton), whose commitment to his family is truly admirable. He may work a low-paying job as a tow-truck driver, but he always makes sure to provide for his family, with his ultimate intention being to make sure that their lives are comfortable, mainly through giving them a house they can proudly call home. Their small, working-class house is not something that most would dream of, but Daryl’s dedication to making it the most luxurious he possibly can for his family means that they all have a special relationship with it. However, when the owners of a neighbouring airport inform everyone on their street that they are going to be expanding, and thus are compulsorily acquiring their homes (giving them compensation, which none of them actually want), Daryl and the rest of the occupants of the neighbourhood are rightly outraged. Refusing to take their offer, claiming that no amount of money can convince them to leave, Daryl elevates this matter to the court, not being aware of the legal context needed to do so, but rather being propelled on his firm belief that no one should have to be forced to leave their home. His journey isn’t easy, but he’s committed to saving his home, which his family has grown to cherish, even if it means taking on the most powerful corporations in the country, who say they aren’t afraid of a lowly, middle-class suburban worker – but clearly they have yet to meet the formidable Daryl Kerrigan, who doesn’t take rejection or coercion particularly well.

There are few instances that exemplify the concept of the “little film that could” more than The Castle, Ron Sitch’s wonderfully irreverent, low-budget Australian comedy that became something of a minor sensation, a true cult classic and a work that endures to this day as an example of a film that makes a lasting cultural impression, despite having only a fraction of the resources available to more traditionally successful films. Watching film for the first time recently was a revelatory experience – Sitch made something incredibly special, a nuanced and comprehensive ode to family, taking its cue from a long lineage of stories focused on issues that are quite literally very close to home. Perhaps not the definition of a groundbreaking comedy, but rather just a well-meaning little film that illustrates the value of certain very important themes, which are demonstrated with an oddly refined sense of humour and the admirable ability to laugh at its own shortcomings, never taking itself too seriously, The Castle is an absolute triumph, and truly one of the most heartwarming glimpses into the unique family dynamic that may not always be particularly prominent as a source of highbrow acclaim, but is as solid and endearing as one could possibly hope for something as unassuming and delightfully irreverent as this. In short, The Castle is a terrific piece of comedic genius that finds the humour and pathos in the most unexpected places, and shows a clear and consistent willingness to prioritize some of the more simple but affecting themes than it does endeavour to be a revolutionary work of fiction. For these reasons alone, it’s not difficult to understand why this is such a cherished comedy.

Taking its cue from the common adage of “a man’s home is his castle”, the film explores some narrative territory that shouldn’t be all that foreign to anyone who has a strong bond to a group of people, whether their biological or adoptive family, or simply the people whose presence brings them the comfort of home. It’s not a particularly complex theme to base a film around, but rather one that carries an enormous amount of meaning when taken on its own terms, and investigated from the very tender and heartfelt standpoint that informs most of the film. At the forefront of all of this is Michael Caton, who is giving a masterful exploration of the limitless bounds of the comedic form in his portrayal of the protagonist and family patriarch Daryl, who is the heart and soul of the film, and the primary reason why this is remembered so lovingly. The character is someone that could’ve been truly unlikeable in the wrong hands, but Caton’s ability to bring out a lovable dullness in Daryl, turning him into an adorable but foolish middle-aged man who doesn’t know how treacherous the world actually can be, is inspiring and truly hilarious. Effortlessly quotable and the kind of character that becomes a cult figure all on his own (I don’t believe there has ever been a more lovable performance of a father committed to film in quite a while), Caton’s performance is a marvel. He’s supported wonderfully by a cast of equally endearing characters, all of whom have exceptional chemistry with one another, but none of them stand out more than Bud Tingwell’s performance as Lawrie, the lawyer who may enter the film quite late, but leaves an enormous impression, and reminds us of what an icon Tingwell was, and how he could elevate even the most paltry of material. Without some strong performances, The Castle would’ve just been grating and unlikable, but through the very understated work done by the cast, it succeeds wholeheartedly and becomes very special. 

Family is vital to the success of The Castle, which is a film that really only works when we consider it as a tribute to relationships we form with others, which can sometimes be overlooked in films that are more intent with specific themes. At the heart of this film is a story of a group of people who call a run-down, working-class hovel their home – and instead of complaining about how they don’t have much, each one of them appreciates what they have, and find the best in every situation. The film is remarkably free of any mean-spirited commentary – instead of mocking those who find value in the kitsch, The Castle instead shows how taste is truly subjective, and that what we find tacky and ridiculous can be endearing to someone else. Naturally, it still derives comedic value – the idea of their house having a non-functioning chimney just “for charm”, or the constant renovations that add yet another unnecessary component to their home, all makes for hilariously irreverent viewing, but it all comes from the heart. The same principle comes in how the characters are portrayed – even the most villainous individual is shown as a human, giving them certain qualities that may not be likeable, but are still authentic, to the point where the film may take it too easy on its more negative characters, finding value in each one of them. It’s a lovely way to look at the world, and a great departure from the more cynical comedies that use archetypes in a way that is disparaging, rather than repurposing them to be affecting and wonderfully heartwarming, as done in this film.

The Castle is a very simple film, but it’s one that really works well when we consider how strong its approach to some fundamental themes are. Sitch and his team of veteran co-writers understand that striving to be groundbreaking isn’t always the best method when doing something entertaining, and that there is a way to rely on common tropes in a manner that repurposes them as being wildly funny and well worth the time, rather than being rehashing of the same hackneyed ideas that were done many times before. There’s a certain respect that needs to be given to a film that can simultaneously be original while still traversing familiar ideas, and through its very idiosyncratic approach to a very relatable story, the film manages to be quite a remarkable work, one that doesn’t need to resort to an unneeded sense of disingenuous ambition for the sake of deriving laughter. Beyond the overtly comedic sensibilities, The Castle is a film handcrafted by someone who genuinely cared about the story being told, and the individuals it represented. It may be giving too much credit to the film, but it certainly earns its status as a truly heartwarming and entertaining piece of comedy, where everything just fits into place, and once someone is willing to suspend disbelief, they can truly answer Daryl’s eternal question of “how’s the serenity?” with nothing but the most wholehearted confidence.