WALKABOUT

When an Aboriginal boy is about to become a man, he sets off for several months into the desert wilderness – the outback. For several months the initiate must survive alone, relying solely on his wits and hunting skills. This ritual of transition into adulthood is known as the walkabout.

However, Nicolas Roeg did not make a film about growing up, but about the clash of worlds and (lack of) communication. He begins his story with a white family: a father takes his teenage daughter and her little brother to the middle of the outback. There, he commits suicide after trying to kill his children. The siblings look for ways to survive, and, when they are at the end of their strength, they meet a young Aboriginal man. Their further journey is not so much an adventure as a series of trials. The most daunting task, however, turns out to be not finding their way in nature, but interpersonal communication. 

Roeg, who began his career in cinema as a cinematographer, focuses on images and their combinations. The physicality of the girl and boy and the delicacy of the child's skin closely harmonise with the scorching landscape of the outback. There is little dialogue, and the words spoken only emphasise the impossibility of communication. 

Although WALKABOUT can be seen as a meditation on the clash between culture and nature, and even femininity and masculinity, it is also a penetrating and bitter commentary on colonialism, whose oppression of the rightful inhabitants of Australia ultimately turns against the colonisers. However, Nicolas Roeg does not make any clear judgments. WALKABOUT, which is undoubtedly a masterpiece, remains enigmatic and painfully dazzling from the first scene to the last.

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Text: Karolina Kosińska PhD