The Tracker

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 left this brilliant film being excited and proud to be an aspiring Australian film-maker. What a film experience. Surely this is one of the great Australian films, certainly of this current year and without doubt for a long time. I say this film made me feel proud but really, as I was sitting after the film enjoying the warm sunshine and the beauty of the Sydney Opera House and the Sydney Harbour, I was quite ashamed and saddened to be an Australian. The film deals with a very dark and still repressed area of Australian history that goes to the very heart of what it means to be an Australian, what out heritage is and what our role is in relation to this heritage. Rather than give a synopsis (they are always so boring) of how the film deals with these issues, I would just simply implore everyone everywhere (not just Australians) to see this film. I really believe the film has importance and resonance for all people, apart from its issues and meaning I think the film is simply film-making of the highest calibre. Bold, creative, subtle at times as well as appropriately disturbing and unsettling when it needs to be. Rolf De Heer has surely made his best film, a film to make you stand up and take notice of his ability. Visually beautiful (what an amazing country we have) and the use of Aboriginal singer Archie Roach's haunting songs is inspired and integral to the film's impact. I have to make special mention of the actors. Basically the film is a four-hander with Grant Page, Gary Sweet, Damon Gameau and David Gulpill giving outstanding performances. Particularly Sweet, giving authority and complexity to a unlikeable role that Australians would be not used to seeing after his television appearances. Can I also reserve a particular rave for Damon Gameau who plays the role of the young follower. Gameau, just out of drama school, is a real find. The Australian press have not given him the praise that he deserves and acknowledged the exceptional way he manages to convincingly capture the complicated shifts in the arc of his character's journey. For me at the end of the film, Gulpill and Gameau together onscreen deliver the film's final moments with such sensitivity and beautiful chemistry that you can't help but be incredibly moved.

Finally I want to say that above all, at the centre of the story, David Gulpill is just extraordinary (one interviewer described him as our biggest Aboriginal movie star, certainly his performance has to be the highlight of his long and significant career.)You feel everything this film has to say, every part of its journey in his performance. You feel the injustice, the horror, the abuse, the loss of culture and identity. Conclusively, you feel for real that being an Australian means acknowledging that our country, as we now know it, was founded on the invasion and near-obliteration of a pre-existing people and their culture.

The music MAKES the movie. I believe the director of the film wrote the words and Graham Tardif did the music. I would kill to get my hands on the soundtrack. Unfortunately, it is an almost unknown movie, so the chance of finding the soundtrack is next to nil. The tracker, fanatic and follower were great characters, as were the last 10-15 minutes of the movie, which in my book earns it a 10. The BEST Aussie movie I have seen. It belongs in the center of the pool room. I can't get the music out of my head. There are long periods without dialogue, just the viewer, the music and the Australian outback - a beautiful place if you know it. If the scenery appeals to you, and you enjoy a good read, then try The Tree Of Man by Patrick White.

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'.

In 2002, Philip Noyce's Rabbit-Proof Fence attacked the Australian government's policy of forcibly removing mixed race Aborigines from their families, sending them to government camps to be sold as servants, converted to Christianity, and eventually assimilated into white society. Just released on DVD and set six years earlier in 1922, Australian Indie director Rolf de Heer's The Tracker is a parable that also explores racism in Australia but on an even darker level, reflecting, according to de Heer, the practices and attitudes of that era towards the Aboriginal people. As three white men and an Aboriginal tracker set out on horseback to search for a black fugitive (Noel Wilton) accused of killing a white woman, the search through the stunning landscape of the Flinders Ranges becomes an exercise in savagery that raises questions about genocide.

The travelers in the search party are nameless and referred to only as The Fanatic (Gary Sweet), The Follower (Damon Gameau), and The Veteran (stuntman Grant Page). They are characters who are both individuals and archetypes who seem to represent racial discrimination and its passive acceptance. The Fanatic is the pompous police officer who is shown as repulsively intolerant of blacks and an individual that will not hesitate to kill. The Follower is his young and innocent assistant who is startled by The Fanatic's relentless racism yet too inexperienced to make a move. The Veteran is an old timer who will not challenge authority.

In The Tracker, De Heer employs two effective and original touches. One is the use of ten original songs composed by Graham Tardif, with lyrics by de Heer, and performed by Archie Roach, an Aboriginal singer who sounds like Tom Waits. Like the Neil Young score in Jim Jarmusch's subversive Western, Dead Man, the continual music can be intrusive but it creates a mood of solemnity. In another device, de Heer cuts away from scenes of violence to show still shots of Peter Coad paintings done in a simple primitive style. The raw emotion of Roach's songs and Coad's expressive artwork establish a record of the horror and allow us to relate to the mythic quality of the drama.

The Tracker plays the part of a fool saying to the officer "Yes, Boss. Okay Boss" yet, like Feste in Shakespeare's Twelfth Night, he is a knowing fool, a man of humor and irony and an instinctive intelligence about the natural world, its spirits and its sacred places. When The Fanatic tells him to show The Follower the signs he is following, he points to one stone in a field of thousands saying, "Dis stone in the wrong place, belong over here", underneath almost dry, he gone couple of hours." revealing knowledge of the place of every stone. We know that The Tracker, though outwardly subservient, is the one who is really in charge and that the search party would be lost without him. As The Fanatic forces The Follower and The Veteran to participate in murder, the groundwork is laid for revenge and retribution.

The Tracker is a beautiful and powerful film that bears witness to the time when there was no talk of Aboriginal reconciliation and no hope for it. Damon Gameau shows great promise as the young man who has developed that rare quality called conscience and we identify with his strength of character. The highlight performance of the film, however, is that of charismatic native actor David Gulpilul. He portrays a man of simple dignity, not a "noble savage" or a faithful "Jacky Jacky" figure necessary to white dominance of the frontier but simply a man who has a profound sense of the world around him. Through him de Heer allows us to glimpse the possibility of establishing a true multi-racial society where people respect each other as equals.