Worth: $15.00
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Cast:
Balang (Tom E.) Lewis, Max Cullen, Sophie Gregg
Intro:
… not only a fascinating journey of a man of important historical context, but also a celebration of an actor gone too soon.
The Skin of Others, directed by Tom Murray (Love in Our Own Time), is many things at once. It’s a history lesson on the white settlers’ impact on Indigenous land. It’s an overview of Australia’s part in World War 1. It also serves as the last film of Balang (Tom E.) Lewis (The Chant of Jimmie Blacksmith; The Proposition).
Ultimately, though, it is a visual essay about Indigenous Australian activist and World War I veteran Douglas Grant, played by Lewis in reconstructions. As a young boy, Grant was taken in by a white Scottish family after his own parents were slaughtered; the details of which appear to be nebulous, but suffice to say, are not great regardless of which narrator takes up the reins in the film. Grant is given a ‘better life’ by his adoptive parents, described as intellectual, a dab hand at taxidermy and a keen bagpiper.
Grant would go on to live an extraordinary and short life, including enlisting in the ANZACs and rising to the rank of Sergeant, before being demoted because it wouldn’t be the best image to have an Aboriginal man in charge of white blokes. The latter half of Grant’s life was filled with tragedy and prejudice. Before he died, a newspaper wrote an obituary that painted this human being as an experiment to bring modern sensibilities to a ‘savage’ past. Even in death, it appears, Grant couldn’t be granted the same dignities as a white man in passing.
Murray admits there is no one way to tackle the life of a man whose legend has been lost to time. Indeed, as part of the many talking heads in the documentary, the director interviews another filmmaker who sees Grant’s life as fodder for a big screen biopic. Murray’s approach is smaller in scale, but large in heart.
Using a mixed medium of animation, reconstructions and radio broadcasts from the time, Murray tackles not only Grant’s life but, in doing so, unearths stories that remind the audience of white Australia’s atrocities.
Not all of the filmmakers’ narrative choices work. Allowing talking heads to talk over each other as part of a full screen mosaic distances the audience from what each person is trying to say. However, this is overshadowed by other choices, such as displaying a series of children’s drawings depicting a firsthand account of the Frontier Wars. Seeing the violence filtered through a child’s eyes is sobering.
Lewis, for his part, throws himself into the role of Grant. His enthusiasm is palpable, seemingly enthused by the opportunity, among others, to adopt a Scottish brogue to be a more believable Grant. Lewis’ discussions with Murray add to the narrative of Grant’s life, with both Director and Actor dissecting what it means to be Aboriginal now and then.
It’s clear that there is more to cover of Grant’s life than the film can show and perhaps somewhere there’s even more to digest of Murray and Lewis’ discussions. However, what is on screen is not only a fascinating journey of a man of important historical context, but also a celebration of an actor gone too soon.