It is not easy to soak up a culture different to one's own. You have to fit in, accept new rules, and face morals that may seem contradictory. And in the case of Boré, a Polish immigrant on Australian land, things turn out to be particularly complicated. In his confiding to his video camera, he expresses his incomprehension towards the natives’ behaviour, and more precisely towards women, who seem to see in him no more than an opportunistic immigrant. These women end up obsessing him, he who knows no other female figures than his mother, the old killjoy who lives next door, and his rubber doll. But one day a woman sends him a sign by revealing her left ear to him. Is there a way? Or is it just the result of a pathological obsession mixed with a feeling of extreme paranoia? It doesn't matter. He’s in love.
It appears to be a nice and pretty comedy-drama, but Left Ear hides some rather dark secrets buried in the disturbed mind of Boré, a mythomaniac, socially inadequate and sexually obsessed man. The authors of this film Mackiewicz – Boré's interpreter and scriptwriter - and Wholley – filmmaker – took advantage of this to bring into light the state of loneliness and alienation in a disturbing manner. With the tiniest budget, the duet gets into his subject according to three angles: Boré's world, the world looking at Boré, and Boré looking at the world. Three perspectives that bump into each other in one mind. Boré's.
Andrew Wholley started as an actor. He graduated in 1992 and appeared in many Australian TV shows and films, but discovered his talent as photo director, and then as filmmaker starting with a dance video, Sole (2003), before turning to short films with Full June (2003) and The Greatful (2004). At the end of 2004, he founded Red Rug with Lech Mackiewicz and Clare Mackey with the objective to produce Left Ear.
