Hooptober XII | 17/31 | Post-Apocalypse 2/2
A dream is a shadow of something real.
Two Aboriginal children walk down the road into town, when a storm starts to pick up. Elsewhere, white children play in a school playground. A couple of kids hear thunder in the distance, but the sky has no clouds. Rain falls, and they run inside. Then, hail breaks through the windows, spattering kids and seriously injuring some. In the city, during torrential rainfall, David Burton, a white lawyer, leaves work for home. Though the family has a false alarm, they are okay, and Burton is grateful, considering the horror that has occurred elsewhere.
One stormy night, Aboriginal Billy Corman runs through the streets with stolen tribal Aboriginal items of significance. Some Aboriginal men stop him and take the items back, but it leads to a chase through a bar that ends with a man pointing a bone at Billy.
Later, the police discover Billy dead in the streets, and bring some Aboriginals from the bar brawl into custody. The Australian Legal Aid system pulls David Burton out of a hat to act as the imprisoned Aboriginals’ lawyer. During this time, David has strange dreams, dreams that feel like premonitions.
As David spends time with the Aboriginals in police custody, he feels a deepening in his role, which seems to have cosmic significance. The men carry secrets that could save their lives, but they refuse to break the tribal law that swears them to silence.
— We are nothing but the law we learned from our forefathers.
The film puts in a lot of effort to humanize and flesh out Burton. We have to know who he is before the case to see how the premonitions alter his worldview and approach. We watch him struggle to understand the Aboriginal worldview regarding law, wherein law is greater than any man.
— Why didn't you tell me there were mysteries?
— David, my whole life has been about a mystery.
— No! You stood in that church and explained them away!
The score is wonderfully lush synths that convey an aching loneliness—David’s journey takes him further and further from the people he knows and loves. But he is sure that what he is doing is the right thing, even when it is against the Aboriginals’ request.
We've lost our dreams. Then they come back, and we don't know what they mean.
The film offers a patient, quiet observation of how events unfold, becoming almost surreal at times as it explores deeper human connections that transcend words. The transmission of dreams is something else. That said, the movie knows enough of conventional structure and storytelling to make for a compelling story. It knows what to reveal and what to hold secret until the right time—the foundation of the best mysteries.
The film is such a fascinating blend of the one-man-in-the-world-isms of The Truman Show and the surreal uncertainty of Picnic at Hanging Rock. Here, no moment guarantees the magic we see is real. While the coincidences make uncertainty difficult, the ambiguity of its final moments further enriches the mystery.
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