Out of Tune (33 page)

After twenty-one chapters in which I have, as best I could, tried to right the wrongs shown in his film, I would like to ask
some questions of Hicks. Why did he feel it necessary, after referring to David as “a stray dog” in the film, to further defame
people with whom he hasn’t even had the courtesy to speak, by telling a large gathering of journalists that David was “lying
and dying on the floor” before he met Gillian? Why did he deny the existence of David’s first wife, Claire, who did so much
for David? Why doesn’t his film pay tribute to the Reverend Robert Fairman, who has received parliamentary citations for his
tireless work for the mentally ill and the excellent standards he has maintained at his lodges? Why did he not show David’s
close friend of eight years, Dot, taking David to concerts, as she often did?

Scott Hicks should ask himself how it is possible for an acclaimed film director to make a movie about a real human being
without speaking to most of the key players in his life. How is it that most of the film focuses on David as a music student
and yet neither of David’s main music teachers, Frank Arndt and Madame Carrard, were consulted? Or Professor Sir Frank Callaway,
a highly respected figure in classical music circles around the world, who could have told Hicks that Peter Helfgott had not
opposed David’s going to London? What about Phyllis Sellick or Professor Immelman, who were present during David’s 1969 London
performance of Rachmaninoff’s Third Piano Concerto? Or Sir Keith Falkner, director of the Royal College of Music, who could
have related how David described his Pop as “a super human being”?

If his film is “rooted clearly in fact” and “paints a very honest picture of David,” as Hicks has told journalists, then why
not mention the history of mental illness in the Helfgott family? Why conceal the fact that David played the “Rach 3” many
times before he left for London and gave other triumphant performances after his return? Why not make clear that David was
being cared for at home by my father until his death in 1975? Why discard David’s tribute to Dad in the newspaper after he
died? Why not confirm with Isaac Stern his offer of bringing David to America? Wouldn’t it have been a courtesy if Hicks had
found a few minutes during the ten years he took to make Shine to speak to Phyllis Sellick before presenting her internationally
renowned husband as a doddery old fool who says you have to be “mad” to attempt the “Rach 3”?

Apart from recognizing that he has caused the Helfgott family and our friends incalculable distress, I feel that Hicks should
think long and hard about the fact that psychiatrists and medical organizations in at least three continents have had to divert
their time from their valuable work with the mentally ill to take a public stand against what is after all a mere movie. He
should also think long and hard about why many people find his treatment of Jews and Judaism, and of Holocaust survivors in
particular, deeply offensive.

If Hicks had been the slightest bit interested in telling a true story he would have spoken to myself, my mother, and Leslie;
he would have been fascinated by all the wonderful letters we have that my father and David exchanged, which show their warmth
and affection for each other and the vitality of the atmosphere in our house. But, of course, Hicks wasn’t interested. He
seems to have taken rather too seriously Sam Goldwyn’s quip: “My mind is made up! Don’t confuse me with the facts!”

If his motives in making this film were purely artistic, if he was merely interested in the story line he had created, rather
than playing around with the lives of the Helfgott family, he could have made virtually the same film simply by using fictional
names and changing a few details. This would not have affected its impact as a work of art. The story would still have been
powerful and imaginative, with a villain for the audience to boo and a heroine to save the day. But Hicks rejected this option,
and it is clear that his motives were not purely artistic. He was determined to abuse the truth and use the real David Helfgott
for commercial exploitation.

Hicks has admitted his film is not true, which is why his disclaimer reads: “While the characters David and Gillian Helfgott
are actual persons, this film also depicts characters and events which are fictional, which do not and are not intended to
refer to any real person or any actual event.” But Hicks wants it both ways. He knows that if people believe Shine to be true,
it will be a more gripping film, bring in larger financial rewards, and win greater critical acclaim. Consequently he made
the disclaimer so small and obscure as to render it virtually meaningless, thereby deceiving the public and the media alike.
And to ensure that everything goes to plan, he has continued to feed the media his myths about “meticulous research” and so
on, many months after the film’s release.

It is no accident that so many people were taken in by Shine and found its myths so acceptable. It’s not just on account of
the fact that it is technically a well-made film, with some very strong performances and a slick publicity machine behind
it. It is because Hicks imbued his film with elements that he knew would have widespread appeal to many people, themes that
tugged at heartstrings, stirred emotions, and confirmed preexisting myths—a wicked father and a wonderful woman as redeemer;
child abuse; a triumph over mental illness. He also exploited the well-known psychological phenomenon of “blaming the victim”—which
when the victim is a concentration camp survivor is almost bound to bring unconscious anti-Semitism into play.

Mix all these together and you have a surefire winner. Who can resist such “a joyous celebration,” as the (London) Daily Telegraph
put it, “of the triumph of good over evil, genius over madness, light over darkness … in the form of the radiant astrologer
Gillian, who rescues David from the edge of madness, and brings the film to the happiest of conclusions?” Once the media started,
there was no stopping them.

And for the finale of our “true story” let’s produce the real David Helfgott—on Oscar night no less—although we had better
tell everyone he’s only an eccentric and has made a complete recovery from his mysterious illness, otherwise people might
suspect that this poor man is still mentally ill and unaware of the way he is being exploited by the circus all around him.
The world fell in love with David’s tale. Only David is not Forrest Gump. He is a real person.

The problem with the impact of
Shine
and the damage and hurt it has caused myself and my family is a circular one. It is precisely because people believe the
film to be true that it is such a moving and gripping piece of cinema. And the more moving and gripping it is, the greater
the damage it does.

For the Helfgott family to succeed in counteracting the media blitz that followed Shine was virtually impossible. It was made
even harder by the existence of the new electronic media, which enables anyone with access to a computer to reach a worldwide
audience. As I sat at home in Beersheva on Oscar night, I asked myself whether it was a coincidence that
Shines
official Internet site states that “when David returns to Australia… his father behaves as if his son is dead”—almost the
exact same words Billy Crystal used in front of one billion people watching the Oscars.

What my family has gone through is not an experience I would wish on anyone. Hicks seems to be remarkably pleased with the
success his film has brought him. “If it was possible to be killed with praise, I would be long dead,” he told one interviewer
modestly. He doesn’t realize and simply doesn’t care what a wonderful man Peter Helfgott was. I doubt whether Hicks knows
how many people he has upset by catapulting my father to worldwide infamy. Dr. Jack Morris, a close friend of my father’s,
exclaimed: “How dare anyone speak about Peter Helfgott like that? He was one of the greatest men I ever met”; Mrs. Miriam
Lemish, who was a bridesmaid at my parents’ wedding, told me she cried after she left the theater; Sam Kras described Peter
as a “happy, genial man, a real character, and extremely likable”; Ida Zoltak called Peter “a gentle and lovable man”; Ivan
Rostkier described Shine as “a shocking film. Peter was a man with such a good heart, and so wonderful to talk to because
he knew so much”; Gertie Granek said: “What a father he was. They should have given him a medal.” These are the people who
actually knew my father. But Hicks and Gillian, two people who never met him, seem quite happy to trample on his good name
and reap the profits.

There is another victim here: David. Even though on the face of it
Shine
is sympathetic to him, depicting him as both a hero and a victim, I believe that in fact it humiliates him. David’s life
is held up to public viewing in the most distasteful way. He is shown defecating in the bathtub, walking around with his penis
dangling in front of his landlady in London, grabbing the breasts of strange women, bouncing naked on a trampoline, dumping
sheet music in the swimming pool, and so on. Hicks asks the audience to view these things not as troubling but as cute. Yet
it exposes my brother to ridicule, and in effect belittles him. The reality is that mental illness is neither quaint, lovable,
nor amusing. Certainly not to those who suffer from it and not to their loved ones who care for them.

Much as Hicks and Gillian would like to convince themselves that David is merely some kind of free-spirited eccentric, a cuddly,
creative oddball with extremely erratic behavior—he is not. He suffers from a serious mental illness, which raises questions
about how far he was able to give informed consent to the making of Shine. It is doubtful whether he is capable of objectively
judging the impact of such a controversial film or the way it has infringed his own right to privacy.

The nightmare has been going for a long time now, but I still live in hope that one of these days Scott Hicks might be brave
enough to do the right thing. If only he would stop telling journalists about his “meticulous research,” apologize to me and
my family, insert a disclaimer at the start of videos of
Shine
and at the beginning of the published screenplay, and completely withdraw
Shine Study Guides
from schools worldwide. We can only hope.

It has been a great struggle for me to clear my father’s name. Once the media latch onto a myth that appeals to the public,
the protests of private individuals are liable to get completely swamped. By writing this book, I have done my best to make
the truth known, but I realize that there’s little chance of ever really repairing the damage to my father’s reputation. It
will be some compensation, though, if others in the movie and publishing industries take the lesson of Shine to heart; if
they learn to check their facts more carefully and become more aware of the suffering they can inflict on innocent people
if they don’t.

As I write,
Shine
continues to be described in many of the world’s newspapers and on television networks as “the ultimate feel-good film,”
“a happily-ever-after tale” and the “feel-good story that is so totally uplifting because it’s true.” Filmgoers may leave
the theater moved and uplifted, but for the Helfgott family, there has been no happy ending.

“The night my brother David performed live at the
Oscar ceremony should have been one of the most
exciting nights of my lie;
a moment of great pride for him
and the whole Helfgott family. Instead I was overcome
by a great sadness that night, for the
movie
Shine
is an
unforgivable distortion of the truth.”

—
M
ARGARET
H
ELFGOTT