The Drover's Wife - Die Legende von Molly Johnson

Serious understatement to say this is an astonishing achievement, Ms Purcell's passion project is riveting and spare from beginning to end. It also takes no prisoners so prepare for your sensibilities to be assaulted.

The Drover's Wife (2021) is a powerful, incisive movie that tells the story of a lonely bushwoman who struggles to raise her children and run the family farm while her husband is away. The movie is both a touching portrait of a mother's love and a searing indictment of the isolation and racism that continue to plague rural Australia.

Leah Purcell (who also wrote and directed) gives a powerhouse performance as the title character, bringing both strength and vulnerability to her portrayal of a woman who is fighting for her survival in a hostile environment. Rob Collins, as Yadaka, the Indigenous drover who comes to her aid, is also excellent, and the two have a great chemistry on screen.

The cinematography by Mark Wareham is breathtaking, and the Australian landscape is captured in all its harsh beauty reflecting the harshness of what first nation people had to endure following white settlement. The Drover's Wife is a slow-paced movie, but it's never dull. Purcell takes her time to develop the characters and their relationships, and the result is a deeply moving film that will stay with you long after the credits have rolled.

The soundtrack by Salliana Seven Campbell is also worth mentioning. It's haunting and beautiful, and it perfectly complements the mood of the movie although, on just a few occasions, it didn't quite resonate, for me, with what was happening on screen.

The Drover's Wife explores many themes in multiple layers. For example, the relationship between the drover and his wife is complicated by the fact that he is away for long periods of time, and she is left to fend for herself and their children. There's also the issue of race, as Yadaka is constantly reminded that he is an outsider in a white man's world. And then there are the themes of isolation, both literal and metaphorical, as well as the tyranny of distance. There is

Purcell has said that she wanted to make a movie about love, loss, grief, and country. And she has succeeded admirably. The Drover's Wife is a stunning achievement. It's must-see.

We are so accustomed to seeing stories told through the eyes of men. When women or Indigenous people tell their stories some people find it 'virtue signalling' or boring. Where's the western action? The storyline of this film is harrowing, but I didn't find it difficult to watch. It was intensely emotional but neither emotion nor violence was gratuitous. It is incredibly beautiful, the interaction with the landscape carries all the power and mystery of our continent. The story unfolds gradually, and with a definite pace. This move is nothing short of a work of art, so moving, the story line so perfectly crafted, the acting so r powerful, I had to sit for a while afterwards to gather myself.

I completely forgot I was watching people acting, I was so involved in this amazing film. It is harrowing to watch at times but highlights the harsh realities of racism, misogyny and violence that continue to this day. As hard as it is to face, maybe it's the dose of reality we all need to continue to create change.

Can't wait to now read the book!

Much of the acclaim for The Drover's Wife, it turns out, seems suspiciously like virtue signalling. Yes, it's a lovingly crafted, passionately felt adaptation of Henry Lawson's tale. But it is also a very mixed bag of a film, and much less effective than it should have been. The film's chief virtues are some strong performances and striking cinematography. But the storytelling is repeatedly undermined by dialogue and sensibilities that are more 21st century than 19th century. The dialogue also occasionally gives way to poetic patches that, however much they evoke Lawson, further undermine the dramatic intent. Rather than trust the story, Purcell resorts to some extremely heavy-handed underlining of theme and message - moments in which the film plummets into something akin to second-rate political theatre from an amateur women's collective. A somewhat clumsy and largely ineffective score doesn't help either. Reservations aside, Purcell is clearly a good director, and, for all its flaws, The Drover's Wife is infinitely better than most first films. It's well worth your time; just don't expect the masterpiece some have been trumpeting.