The Tracker
The Tracker
Gary Sweet's subtle performance (the Fanatic) shows how the terror of a man who is out of his element fuels his pomposity and anger. The entire cast is equally strong. And in a departure from period films, a middle-of-the road rock soundtrack, with such lyrics as "Now we are no longer free, we're dispossessed," is sung by Archie Roach, an Aboriginal singer with a voice like Elvis Costello's. Although the characters are clichéd and largely symbolic, their path takes surprising turns. Interspersed with moments of great suspense, the tragic cat-and-mouse survival adventure overshadows the heavy-handed didacticism. Kent Turner
The Tracker is quiet and sometimes droll, with an almost supernatural ability to read the landscape. He addresses the whites as "boss" and offers double-edged observations: "No such thing as an innocent black," he says after the party's deadly encounter with a small band of natives. He is carefully, almost cheerfully subservient, but the Fanatic notices that, somehow, the pursuers are always half a day behind the fugitive.
Deep in the bush country, the trackers lose their extra horse and supplies to an Aboriginal lance that seems to emerge from nowhere, and it's clear the party is being watched. The Tracker tells them to hurry up or they'll never get their man, and we start to wonder who's really in charge.
The use of a daunting, mysterious landscape, the pace and the fablelike simplicity suggest that director Rolf has been studying classic Westerns. He does nicely employing techniques that in other hands might be intrusive, such as a repeated shot that begins as a close-up of the tracking party, then zooms back and back until the characters become tiny figures barely visible against an impressive swath of bush country. He also makes good use of cutaway shots that substitute primitive paintings for violent scenes. The soundtrack, however, with folk ballads written by the director, becomes a distraction.
See the film mainly for the quiet and powerful work of Gulpilil in the title role.
The film exhibits some of the dominant themes in Australian cinema–its respect for nature (recorded in stately compositions), sense of isolation (the four characters are alone throughout most of the film), emphasis on mateship (loyalties become crucial when tensions flare), and even its valorization of the underdog: the drama turns on the Tracker’s ability to use his lowly position to gain the upper hand.
The Tracker has been called a neo-Western, and that genre context extends further than the film’s visual motifs of desert, felt hats and horses, into its minimalist dramatic set-up and broad ethical strokes. In fact, each of the characters is named in the credits according to an archetype (The Veteran, The Fanatic, The Follower) and introduced in the film with text (a man who has been drafted, a man who rejects statistics, a man unaccustomed to expeditions). By foregrounding these elements, the film emphasizes its fable qualities and sets the stage for its moral structure, which hinges on the merging of power and racism and the possibility of resistance.
The story provides the foundation for a character study with strong ensemble performances; as The Tracker, Gulpilil is particularly memorable with his weathered face and seemingly effortless ability to transition between mysterious nobility and clownish nonchalance. In fact, Gulpilil is so good at exhibiting the former quality that he is often relegated to playing minor, Noble Aboriginal roles in lesser films; it’s nice to see him granted more room to flesh out a character here.
Rob's review: I'd say these reviews have accurately summarized The Tracker's qualities. It's one of the better indigenous movies--almost as good as Rabbit-Proof Fence. Rob's rating: 8.0 of 10.
For more on the subject, see The Best Indian Movies.
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