A Bravura de Molly

This is not a fun female cowboy movie. It's not a action-packed western. It's a cinematic tale of identity, endurance, and the construct of justice, which I much prefer to the first two options. The cinematography is unparalleled, the performances incredible, and the story devastating but enthralling. I will say I found the orchestrations in the first half of the movie distracting, and certain side plot scenes contrived, but overall this film is testament to Leah Purcell's overwhelming talent both in front of and behind the camera.

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.

What would you do, an outback setting where there's few, not more than a brooding mare, only good for child care, have to take it on the chin, turn a cheek, you just can't win, no escape, there's no way out, just prepare for the next clout.

Leah Purcell leaves us under no illusion, with an outstanding performance, as to the challenges faced by women in the lost and lonely landscapes of 19th century Australia where abuse, torment and oppression are commonplace, and where racism and prejudice prevail - I'd like to say we've come a long way since, but you can make your own mind up about that and the reasons for it, so if this film does nothing other than get you thinking, then it's 90 minutes well spent.

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.

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.