Philip Noyce's 'Rabbit-Proof Fence' tackles head on a chapter in Australia's (recent) history which many would like to ignore or forget: the so-called 'stolen generations' of mixed-race children who were forcibly removed from their Aboriginal parents in a state-controlled eugenics programme known as the Aborigines Act. This Act remained operative until as late as the 1970s, and even now Australia's Prime Minister John Howard and his Government refuse to acknowledge any past wrongdoing or present responsibility on the part of the state. So 'Rabbit-Proof Fence' places itself at the centre of a colonialist controversy that still rages today.
For all their earnestness,'issue' films, with their limited perspectives and parochial settings, can often seem ill-suited to the big screen. Yet although 'Rabbit-Proof Fence' is set in a particular time (1931) and a particular place (the hauntingly vast deserts of Western Australia), it tells a tale of universal appeal on an epic scale. Three young Aboriginal girls, Molly, Daisy and Gracie, escape from a state-administered detention centre and begin a heroic journey over twelve thousand perilous miles on foot to get home, with only the rabbit-proof fences to guide their way and the authorities in hot pursuit. The film's story is shaped so much like a mythic odyssey that it becomes easy to forget its basis in reality - the script is adapted by Christine Olsen from a biographical work ('Follow the Rabbit-Proof Fence') written by Molly's own daughter, Doris Pilkington. Here truth really is stranger than fiction.
Apart from being a great yarn, 'Rabbit-Proof Fence' also succeeds in rattling its audience with its provocative themes. Although its outback setting may at first enable non-Australian audiences to distance themselves from it, there are plenty of elements in the film - the prison trains which transport the girls, the detention camp in which they are interned, and the state policy which threatens to eradicate their race - which resonate uncomfortably with the recent events in European historys. And in keeping with the origins of Australia's colonial history, the girls' principal antagonist in the film, the ironically titled Chief Protector of Aborigines, is played by a Brit.
In surprisingly good form, Kenneth Branagh has avoided playing Mr Neville as some sniggering cardboard villain, instead showing a more subtle form of racism by making Neville an unreflective but sincere zealot who genuinely believes that he is doing the right thing for 'the native'. The most impressive performance in the film, however, is Evelyn Sampi's as the resourceful and determined Molly. David Gulpilil is also excellent as the compromised tracker Moodoo, forced to collaborate with the white police - in what is virtually a dress rehearsal for his extraordinary performance in Rolf de Heer's forthcoming 'The Tracker'.
A film as gripping as it is important.
For all their earnestness,'issue' films, with their limited perspectives and parochial settings, can often seem ill-suited to the big screen. Yet although 'Rabbit-Proof Fence' is set in a particular time (1931) and a particular place (the hauntingly vast deserts of Western Australia), it tells a tale of universal appeal on an epic scale. Three young Aboriginal girls, Molly, Daisy and Gracie, escape from a state-administered detention centre and begin a heroic journey over twelve thousand perilous miles on foot to get home, with only the rabbit-proof fences to guide their way and the authorities in hot pursuit. The film's story is shaped so much like a mythic odyssey that it becomes easy to forget its basis in reality - the script is adapted by Christine Olsen from a biographical work ('Follow the Rabbit-Proof Fence') written by Molly's own daughter, Doris Pilkington. Here truth really is stranger than fiction.
Apart from being a great yarn, 'Rabbit-Proof Fence' also succeeds in rattling its audience with its provocative themes. Although its outback setting may at first enable non-Australian audiences to distance themselves from it, there are plenty of elements in the film - the prison trains which transport the girls, the detention camp in which they are interned, and the state policy which threatens to eradicate their race - which resonate uncomfortably with the recent events in European historys. And in keeping with the origins of Australia's colonial history, the girls' principal antagonist in the film, the ironically titled Chief Protector of Aborigines, is played by a Brit.
In surprisingly good form, Kenneth Branagh has avoided playing Mr Neville as some sniggering cardboard villain, instead showing a more subtle form of racism by making Neville an unreflective but sincere zealot who genuinely believes that he is doing the right thing for 'the native'. The most impressive performance in the film, however, is Evelyn Sampi's as the resourceful and determined Molly. David Gulpilil is also excellent as the compromised tracker Moodoo, forced to collaborate with the white police - in what is virtually a dress rehearsal for his extraordinary performance in Rolf de Heer's forthcoming 'The Tracker'.
A film as gripping as it is important.