‘Wolfram’ review: Warwick Thornton reframes the traumatic indigenous Australian experience through the lens of classic Western archetypes

Warwick Thornton was an experienced cinematographer before turning to directing, and the feel of the Central Australian desert and the craggy MacDonnell Ranges is both epic and intimate. His refined sense of composition is directly influenced by the landscape surrounding Alice Springs where he grew up, and his deep connection to it lends his films a lively beauty. Wolfram is no exception. A four-act saga of escape, pursuit, and survival, the film, for all its brutality, ultimately becomes less a lament for stolen lands and stolen children than a thrilling novel about endurance.

Family and community are the thematic foundation of this sequel of sorts to Thornton’s 2017 drama Sweet countryonce again co-written by Stephen MacGregor and David Tranter. The film takes place a few years after the events of the previous film in and around the same fictional town of Henry in the Northern Territory, although all but two of the main characters here are different. This gives the two films a sense of a shared ancestral map, marked by contrasting overlaps and shades.

The titular center this time is Pansy, played with expressive looks and few words by the priceless Deborah Mailman, who is first seen holding her newborn and cutting off locks of hair with a rusty knife. With minimal preamble or exposition, Pansy and her new partner Chang (Jason Chung) set off by horse and cart for Queensland, their last chance to find her missing children. She decorates her braids with seeds and hangs them on bushes to mark the way, like a trail of breadcrumbs.

Meanwhile, Aboriginal child laborers Max (Hazel May Jackson) and Cade (Ellie Hart) smash through the walls of a narrow mine, removing chunks of the ore used to make wolfram (now known as tungsten) for their ill-tempered boss Billy (Matt Nable).

A separate thread follows the arrival of criminals Casey (Errol Shand) and Frank (Joe Bird) to Henry, all of them acting rudely and bravado as they look to stake a claim in the area and dig for gold. Ignoring the advice of a local shopkeeper (John Howard) to avoid the back paths where they are likely to encounter “savage Blackfellas”, they head in that direction. When they come across young Max, whom they left behind to monitor Billy’s camp, Casey and Frank rob the camp and forcefully take the child with them.

Once Kidd finds out his brother is gone, he steals a donkey from a mining site and goes after it, a convenient snake bite helping him time his exit.

Far from the dusty tracks of a dilapidated cattle station, a belligerent drunkard, Kennedy (Thomas M. Wright), takes advantage of the virtual slave labor of his mixed-race 18-year-old son Philomac (Pedria Jackson), the two main characters deported from… Sweet country. (Philomac, then 14, played twins Tremaine and Trevon Dolan.)

When Casey and Frank retreat, they pretty much take matters into their own hands, claiming to have found Max wandering off on his own. Kennedy is strangely respectful of strangers when they begin to antagonize Philomak, whose suspicions about them are confirmed when he speaks with Max alone.

Just as he did in Sweet countryThornton conjures Old West-style chaos in time and place, particularly when the sarcastic villain Casey and the cocky narcotic Frank go from vaguely menacing to downright cruel. Their cruel treatment of small-time black thief Archie (Gibson-John) is another Sweet country Philomak shocks him into action as the film turns into a thrilling chase thriller. Blood is spilled in gruesome and satisfying killings. In the latter case, Thornton reclaims the dignity of First Nations Australians in a powerful way.

Much of the story comes from oral history passed down by Tranter’s great-grandfather, whose family roots on both sides — Indigenous and Chinese — play a role. However, the narrative feels formless at times, and the plot frequently becomes familiar – a surprising revelation in Part IV.

The number of important characters and story threads makes it difficult for the director and writers to settle on and maintain focus until the threads are tied together. But even when it’s along rather than racing, the film’s heart and integrity remain Wolfram Interesting, supported by great work from the entire cast.

Pedria Jackson, with the magnificent moustache, is a standout as Philomak, pensive, committed, seething with discontent and longing to be with his people; Shand makes Casey frighteningly despicable, treating the indigenous characters like animals; Although her role is largely symbolic, Melman is deeply moving, as her grace and quiet fortitude stand up to countless mothers whose children were taken from them; And the young actors who play Max and Kidd are great.

Two Chinese gold prospectors are introduced at the end, Shi (Ferdinand Huang) and Jimmy (Eden Du Chime), suggesting a sense of solidarity among the victims of discrimination. They become an essential part of the poignant conclusion, which perhaps ties the story together so neatly, but few would be moved by seeing people stripped of their humanity by colonial rule show their resilience.

Thornton once again serves as his own DP, painting a tapestry of a rich palette of reds, oranges, golds and browns in the sun-drenched landscape. The film does not have an original score per se but makes distinct use of the atmosphere of Charlie Parker’s chainsaw playing. The director has not yet gone beyond the poetic simplicity of his first appearance in 2009. Samson and Delilah. but Wolfram It represents a very strong entry in his impressive body of work and a return to form after his more uneven last feature, The new boy.