The movie revolves around Charlie, who has begun to have a strange experience while he is still upset with the interference of Whitefella's laws. Now, Charlie sets out to live the old way and set off a chain of reactions that hinder the paths of things.
A series of chapters in noble effort and misadventure alike, all captured with fluid camerawork trained on Gulpilil's every move or his long passages of mesmerizing stillness.
This is entirely Gulpilil's show, and even in the simplest, quietest moments he's riveting. It's one of the key performances in any of de Heer's films and, basically, magnificent.
David Gulipil is Australia's gift to great film as always--in the latest he is also co-author of the screenplay that renders white injustice vividly, evoking Ferguson, Missouri.
Part of the movie's mischievous charm lies in De Heer and cinematographer Ian Jones' sophisticated use of Steadicam, which moves almost exclusively with Charlie, often seemingly in a struggle to keep up with his brisk, determined walk.
The film gets some of its power from the fact that Charlie's story tracks pretty closely with that of the actor playing him. But just some of its power.
Using a combination of bleak realism, fatalistic humor and a healthy dose of sentimentality, Mr. de Heer traces the downward spiral of a man who has become a refugee in his own homeland.
It's a beautifully photographed, unrelentingly bleak picture that works as a Rorschach test for the viewer's empathy.
Globe and Mail
August 21, 2015
The upright art-houser is told in English and Yolngu, with English subtitles, but the message would be clear without any dialogue: Australia is no country for old Aborigine.
