Director: Warwick Thornton
Talent: Hamilton Morris, Sam Neill, Bryan Brown, Ewen Leslie
Released: 9 March
When Australian cinema recalls the early half of the 20th century it usually involves a deeply introspective furrow into the gritty segregation of the country, the generations of bias and punishment meted out by the whites upon the indigenous and the various social injustices that have peppered its checkered past. Sweet Country finds itself rutting [like a deer in heat?] uncomfortably in this timeline.
Sam, played by indigenous actor Hamilton Morris, works as a farmhand for Sam Neill’s pastor Fred Smith. When Smith agrees that Sam, his wife and niece could do a day’s work for the new boorish drunk landowner neighbour Harry Marsh (Ewen Leslie), things take a sinister turn. Soon enough, Sam finds himself on the run through the Outback pursued by the local police sergeant (Bryan Brown) and his posse.
Sweet Country is framed very much like a western with a little 1970’s new wave Australian wildness to it. There is as much violent cat and mouse thrills as there is social commentary. And the mix works. It all hangs together very well in fact. Thornton has framed the film beautifully. The cinematography and camera work overall is resplendent. There are a number of remarkable scenes that stick in the mind long after the credits have rolled and as usual with Outback films, the setting itself is a beast of its own that lends much to the overall feel of the film; the simmering heat, the grime and sweat, the red sands and random copses.
It’s never an especially easy watch but it is a strangely accessible one, due to the remarkable cast that drives this tragic and often painfully brutal film to the finishing line with aplomb.
Words – Shane O’Reilly
