The Black Balloon opens with an awkward dance between filmmaker and audience, the latter trying to suss whether the able-bodied actor is playing an autistic character or is lazily impersonating the illness, all obvious ticks and embarrassingly broad gestures. Filmmakers often deploy mental disability for shallow manipulation (hello The Proposition), wherein the strings of the characterisation appear painfully obvious.<br /><br />It becomes apparent, however, that debut filmmaker Elissa Down has instead crafted a very fine and perceptive film, indeed. A semi-autobiographical, coming-of-age drama, The Black Balloon connects for its frank exploration of a difficult subject. Though she opts for every cliché imaginable- the ocker father (Erik Thompson), the tireless mother (Toni Collette), the wish-fulfilment girlfriend (model Gemma Ward), family strife- Down has weaved these seams for surprisingly effect.<br /><br />Sixteen year-old Thomas (Rhys Wakefield) is an impish, often self-involved hero, perpetually embarrassed by his autistic older brother, Charlie (astonishing newcomer Luke Ford). Though his pregnant mother is confined to bed rest, Thomas often shirks his responsibilities and becomes prone to intense bitterness. The Black Balloon darkens sooner than you would expect for an Aussie drama and honestly reflects upon the repercussions of Thomas' selfish behaviour.<br /><br />Down's direction is very strong and visual, especially in the moments of Thomas' embarrassment and anguish, culminating in a brutal sequence at the dinner table. The violence here is sudden and deserves full credit for its unexpected impact. Although heartfelt and touching, Down's film is never cloying and earns its warm moments through genuine pain and reflection.