52 Films by Women Vol 6. 41. THE DROVER'S WIFE: THE LEGEND OF MOLLY JOHNSON (Director: Leah Purcell)
Completed in 2020,
pre-pandemic, but released in 2022, writer-director-star Leah Purcell’s Snowy
Mountain-set period Australian outback western, The Drover’s Wife: The Legend of Molly Johnson, is a labour of love. Adapted from Henry Lawson’s
short story, published in 1892, the film boasts arresting production values,
though not much droving, addressing instead the twin evils of racism and
domestic violence. Given that it is set in the late 19th Century, justice
isn’t served. However, Purcell’s film presents prototypical Australian
suffragettes, who protest as a hanging takes place, though there isn’t an equal
protest for the rights of indigenous people. The film is ragged and raw,
working with genre elements, but withholding the pleasure of righteous acts –
the sort of standing up to menfolk that make you whoop with approval. No –
catharsis isn’t put before the horse. This is a film that reflects on the
journey to come and on women like Molly who took brave steps.
When we first meet
her, Molly (Purcell, seizing the title role as if by birth right) is driving a
cart, her eldest son next to her, face blackened with dirt. A man pulls a gun
on her. Just before we hear the cocking of a pistol, we see a solitary, barren
tree in the centre of the frame, branches twisted like snakes, petrified white.
It is photographed from a low angle to exaggerate its stature. The tree is a proxy
for the landscape; it offers nothing.
Cut to an earlier
period. Heavily pregnant Molly is outside. Her children are playing. She is
surprised by the appearance of a stray bullock. Ordering her children inside,
Molly seizes her rifle. She isn’t about to let the animal stay for tea and
crumpets. A shot rings out. When next we see the bullock, it is in strips being
roasted. The aroma draws two visitors, an Englishman, Nate Klintoff (Sam Reid)
and his wife, Louisa (Jessica De Gouw). Neither are in a fit state. Travelling
from England to Nate’s new place of work has taken its toll; Nate, we learn,
had served in the army in South Africa. Louisa begs for food. Molly wants to
send them on the way. However, when the Klintoffs interact with her children, Mrs
Johnson opts for hospitality.
‘Are you looking
forward to your husband being home?’ asks Nate. ‘Yes, nothing pleases me more
than the smiles on my children’s faces as Joe [her husband] runs towards them,’
replies Molly. Enthusiasm is as alien to Molly as letting her rifle stray from
her sight. ‘Do you think she really welcomes her husband?’ Nate asks, later. Nate
appears to be drawn to her; after all Molly can wield a firearm while his wife
simply has literary ambitions. Louisa wants to start a newspaper, though it is
unclear who will read it.
Molly begs a favour
from the Klintoffs, to take her children into town. The eldest, Danny (Malachi Dower-Roberts)
will fetch supplies and return with the others, though that isn’t exactly what
happens. The children are told to behave. Molly’s daughter drops her doll;
Louisa picks it up. When a filmmaker draws attention to an object, it is
usually because that object plays a part in the story later on. However,
Molly’s daughter drops the doll simply for the sake of dropping a doll. The
doll isn’t left someplace causing a character to retrieve it and place themselves
in danger. It is as if Purcell is unaware of filmic convention.
No sooner have the Klintoffs
left than Molly is faced with another visitor, an aboriginal man lying face
down on the ground. He is Yakada (Rob Collins), a man on the run with a shackle
around his neck. Clearly the aroma of cooked bullock draws folks from far and
wide. As Yakada stands up, there is a fleeting flashback of a man approaching
Molly at night with hostile intent. At that exact moment, facing Yakada, Molly’s
water breaks. She stretches out her arm, wincing in pain, fingers spread apart.
She needs help – and quickly.
We see the aftermath
of the delivery. Molly’s baby is dead. Yakada pleads for shelter. Molly needs
her child to be buried. Yakada volunteers for the task. ‘What’s your crime?’
Molly asks him. ‘Being black,’ Yakada replies. ‘You can stay one night,’ Molly
responds tersely. ‘Two,’ Yakada responds, by way of counter proposal. Molly has
some chores for him, so agrees, removing the neck shackle with a single blow.
We learn that Nate
has been recruited as sheriff of the market town of Everton. He isn’t the
first. ‘If you last the week, I’ll swear you in on Friday,’ says the town judge
(Nicholas Hope), hedging his bets. Everton owes its existence to a rich
businessman (no, not Bill Kenwright) – Johnson. If the Johnsons leave Everton,
the town will collapse. By contrast, Everton Football Club has guaranteed
itself another season in the English Premier League, following a spirited game
against Crystal Palace on 19 May 2022. I realise that means nothing to most
readers, who doubtless support Liverpool. There is a clunky scene in which Nate
is lured into a fight with local towns people. It is a true movie set piece, by
which I mean Nate manages to fell men who are physically his superior. The last
of them naturally ends up in the horses’ drinking trough; Purcell has watched
TV westerns like Bonanza and The High Chaparral.
Molly tells Yakada
to dig deep to bury her child. Before committing the stillborn baby to the
ground, she blows on the swaddled corpse. This is an aboriginal tradition.
Yakada takes note. It turns out that Molly has more in common with Yakada than
first appears.
When we next see
three of Molly’s children – Danny is on his way back to his mother – they are
in smart attire. This is initially confusing – Molly can’t afford such clothes.
However, it is explained later on. Molly and her husband are considered a bad
influence; a couple wish to adopt them.
Where is Joe
Johnson? His horse is tied up in town. Purcell builds the drama to a reveal. We
expect a formidable figure who will dominate the narrative. There is however a
twist.
Nate Klintoff’s
scenes are as clumsy as his name; I doubt if any educated Englishman would
spell ‘Clint’ with a ‘K’. He converses with his deputy who is not so good at
riding. ‘So I have been informed,’ replies Nate, though it isn’t clear who
advised him. Nate decides to gather a war party to apprehend the fugitive; if
he does not, locals may take justice into their own hands.
Back at the Johnson
shack, Danny reappears. He is initially hostile towards Yakada, but his mother
calms him. Yakada and Molly’s eldest son gradually bond. Yakada shows Danny how
to use a spear. The aboriginal appears
to be a better father figure to Danny than Joe. Molly gives Yakada her
husband’s boots. Yakada also tells Molly who she really is; a revelation that
prompts her to ask him to leave, until she calms down. He also tells her of a
place where his people live, an aboriginal settlement that would take her
family in.
Molly also has to
contend with other visitors. At this point, things get nasty. Joe’s apparent
disappearance is explained. Molly is forced to defend herself.
Purcell is sensitive
to the impact of showing violence against women. The scenes of Danny seeing Yakada and his mother being attacked
aren’t easy to watch. However, sexual violence takes place off screen.
Molly has the last
say. Her job is to rescue her children who are being adopted – there is an
implicit reference to the ‘stolen generation’ – aboriginal children raised by
white families.
Towards the end,
Molly and Louisa Klintoff speak. Louisa shows Molly her newspaper, in which she
discusses domestic abuse. ‘I hear your voice in it,’ says Molly, unimpressed.
‘Then tell me your story, so that others may hear your words,’ replies Louisa.
Molly rises to the suggestion.
The Drover’s Wife:
The Legend of Molly Johnson
tells the story of a domestic abuse victim who fought back. The story is not
framed as a fantasy narrative in which Molly is turned into a dynamic hero. She
endures, hardened by experience. However, for all her terseness, she never
stops being a loving mother. She isn’t a caricature either and has the same
impulse as menfolk to treat alternative ideas with hostility, notably the
circumstances of her birth. The publicity for the film focuses on Molly holding
a rifle. However, a woman with a gun doesn’t act the same way as a man. In a
world of gender-based violence and gun-related massacres, the film suggests
that if laws on self-defence were changed and women were given guns while men
were denied them, there might genuinely be less violence against men, women and
children.
Reviewed at Stratford Picture House, East London (Screen
Four), Monday 16 May 2022, 18:40 screening (audience of one, sadly)
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