The Tracker

Into a painted landscape come four men. Three policemen on horseback, and a native tracker leading them on foot. They are chasing another native, accused of murder, who is occasionally glimpsed in the distance. As they trek further into the wilderness, the fugitive remains elusive, and the brutal aggression of the expedition leader turns the mission sour.

Brilliantly written and directed by Rolf de Heer, this is a great film. Performances by the two main protagonists, David Gulpilil as the Tracker, and Gary Sweet as the Fanatic, are excellent. And the stark beauty of the Australian outback has never been captured so lovingly on film.

I stumbled onto this movie during the Palm Springs International Film Festival. When I noticed folks lined up outside the theatre an hour before the movie, I thought I'd join them. What a surprise! The haunting closeups and aerial views of Australia's outback serve to intensify the interactions of the characters. The music can, and does, appear overpowering at times, but along with an ocasionally inserted "painting", helps dramatize aborigine culture, a key to the film's intent. If you're tired of the usual american formulaic movie, but aren't into the hassle of reading subtitles, this may be for you.

It gets off to a slow start. On horseback in the Australian desert, three white men representing officialdom follow close behind an aboriginal man on foot, "tracking" another aborigine wanted for killing a white woman. There's no character development, no explanations, no music ... just four men plodding along in silence.

But the plot gradually picks up as the four men encounter frustrations and problems along the way. This film is unusual in that, from start to finish, it takes place entirely outdoors. The stunning cinematography not only captures the stark beauty of a rugged and unforgiving land, but also creates some memorable cinematic art, most notably the profile of a man, whose corpse dangles in the wind against the background of a bright yellow sun.

For a film about "tracking", the script has little to say about real life tracking skills. At one point the tracker stoops down to notice one small rock that has apparently been moved. The tracker then uses this stone to conclude that the stalked man has recently been here. But how does the tracker know the rock's disturbance was the result of the wanted man, rather than some passing wild animal, or a local aborigine? The tracker doesn't explain, and his three white boss men don't ask.

But the film is not really about "tracking". It's about politics and philosophy. The lead white man is repulsive in his violence and racism. He whips and chains the tracker, and verbally abuses him. Yet, to accomplish his mission, the boss man needs the tracker. The film's theme thus centers on how imperialistic, militant whites overpower natives of a country to get what the whites want, with the help of guns, of course. It's a frequent theme throughout human history, and in its application to American history it is known as "manifest destiny".

Reinforcing this theme is the film's haunting soundtrack. I especially liked the visceral "All Men Choose The Path They Walk". The music adds emotional and philosophic depth to the story, as do aboriginal drawings, or sketches, that figuratively show what is happening, when the film's plot turns violent. The film's casting and acting are fine. David Gulpilil is himself an aborigine, and does a good job as the tracker.

This is an unusual film in that there is not one single scene that takes place indoors. It has a political theme that runs deep, enhanced by haunting music. Although "The Tracker" gets off to a slow start, it build tension en route to a powerful ending. It's a film that would appeal to viewers looking for something a little different, as well as those interested in cultural history or outdoor adventure.

I watched this wonderful film last night on television after having, unfortunately, missed it during its house release several years ago. Even though it would have been far better to see the beautiful cinematography on the big screen I was still moved and highly impressed with this historically insightful look under the carpet of our history.

It is an interesting coincidence that I watched The Proposition several days ago and was able to watch The Tracker last night-both films, although separated by roughly fifty years, still circle the same historical period in that they both deal with Australia's adolescence and it is this historical backdrop that binds these films together in my mind.

If a film returns to my thoughts after I have watched it, regardless of the geographical setting or the chronological period, that film is successful by my standards and if you wakeup the next morning replaying scenes of the film then it certainly is a winner-that is exactly what happened this morning. De Heer's script and direction created a haunting movie. The subtlety of the nuances made for a deeply intellectual journey through the tracks of these different people embroiled in activities beyond their understanding. Is this the paradigm of human existence? De Heer is to be congratulated for writing a scrip dealing with historical topics generally bypassed by commercial film makers and then directing that film with such sensitivity and understanding. It is rare to see a film that paints such a critical view of the relationship of the Aboriginal people and the close-mindedness of the Anglo settlers during that first century of contact. The definitive film about this contact has yet to be made and I for one anxiously await its production. We know so little, even if we make a concerted effort to locate the sources, about this early period of racial interaction. In the history of the world has there been such a diametrically antagonistic confrontation between peoples? The accuracy of this contact drama seems to have been lost because of the very nature of the discontinuity between these peoples. De Heer attempted to redress this lack of information and due to the brilliance of his insights, as well as the brilliance of the cast, we the audience are the better for having watched their work.

I wanted to like this film more than I did - I wanted to be able to rave about it unreservedly, but I couldn't.

First, I loved: David Gulpilil's performance. Such subtle contempt - almost as subtle as the way he actually tracks the landscape. This is an expression that should be seen more often in Australian cinema, just as there should be more opportunities for actors such as Gulpilil to shine. Secondly, I loved the paintings. At moments of transformation or violence (or transformation through violence - three words that sum up the history of the Australian continent) we were shown a still photograph of powerful, colorful paintings that were obviously (I hope! - I couldn't find a credit for them) by Aboriginal artists.

On the down side, the white actors were not allowed a great deal of subtlety, which was a real shame. In particular, Gary Sweet's character was so one dimensional as to be a little annoying, and I am not sure if this was the writing or the performance. Where was the fear behind the arrogance? Where was the hardness rather than blankness? I know that this was an opportunity for the story of The Tracker to shine, but that is no reason to not have well balanced performances (and writing) for the white characters also - or the story begins to lose its power and punch.

So, on balance, the performance of Gulpilil and the power of the story wins out (also probably motivated by the collective guilty conscience of all Australians) over the one dimensional white characters. A great companion piece to 'Rabbit Proof Fence'.