REVIEW: Movie—Our Generation: Land Culture Freedom > Guardian Weekly

Our Generation: Land Culture Freedom - review

Sinem Saban and Damien Curtis's documentary examining the state of indigenous rights in Australia offers an insight into years of neglect, ignorance and stereotyping. But it also offers the hope that things could change.

Read a Q&A with Sinem Saban and Damien Curtis
Link to Our Generation photo gallery

Our Generation: Sinem Saban and Damien Curtis's film is a platform for the issue of indigeneous rights in Australia. Photograph: Sinem Saban

 

 

In 2008, Australia's then prime minister, Kevin Rudd, apologised to the country's indigenous population for the "indignity and degradation" to which past governments had subjected them. Although "sorry" was only a simple word, Australia's First Peoples, the Aborigines, the indigenous population, hoped the apology would herald a new era of race relations. Sunday 13 February 2011 was the three-year anniversary of Sorry Day, but in the years since Rudd's announcement it seems little has changed.

Our Generation is a documentary feature from Sinem Saban and Damien Curtis looking at the complex issue of indigenous rights in Australia. The pair have not only the knowledge and understanding to tackle subject, they have the necessary sensitivity to extract an informative and affecting film without getting bogged down in emotion. Saban's academic grounding in Aboriginal Studies has been supplemented by 10 years of work with the Aboriginal community who are the main subject of the film, the Yolngu in Arnhem Land, in the Northern Territory, where she worked as a teacher and human rights activist. Curtis has for a decade worked with tribal peoples around the world to protect their culture and ancestral lands.

The plight of the Aborigine of Australia has been an issue since the colonial flag was first hoisted on Botany Bay. While other colonised indigenous people were at least recognised by treaties with their new governors, no such document was signed on the Bay. The problem of recognition has stayed with the Aborigine ever since.

For all their knowledge and passion for their subject, Saban and Curtis do not lose sight of the fact that their film is the conduit through which the argument for indigenous rights is presented. Many of the civil rights leaders interviewed in the film have been bearing the torch of indigenous rights for years, but years of being ignored by both a conservative media and the governments of John Howard, Kevin Rudd and Julia Gillard have taken their toll. Our Generation is very much a call to a new generation of Australians, Aborigine or city-dwelling white suburbanite, to relight the torch and carry it forward.

The testimony of the Yolngu is significant for the film. Aside from Saban's personal connection with the community, they are seen by other Aboriginal groups in Australia as the community that has managed to retain most of its culture, traditions and land. The Yolngu remained stubbornly resistant to most forms of colonisation. Crucially, the community did not cede control of its lands to settlers and managed to retain sovereignty – the issue and importance of which runs throughout the film.

There is much to admire about this documentary, least of all the fact that it was made at all. Curtis and Saban relied on donations to get the project off the ground, but the nature of the independent production meant the film-makers had complete editorial control. The airing of the issues contained therein – racial discrimination, funds for community projects in exchange for land rights – are not addressed in the mainstream media nor can they be found on the political agenda. The result is a film that gives those who contributed a sense of participation ownership over the finished product, especially when their names are included in the credits.

Saban says she was inspired by Michael Moore's documentary Bowling for Columbine, examining the issue of gun ownership in the US. The advance of the documentary format on to mainstream cinema screens has allowed audiences to familiarise themselves with how to watch them. In the case of Saban, like Moore, the idea is to show all of the facts — not just the soundbites given by media or politicians — in a way that spurs the audience into action. Even after the film-making was finished the pair embarked on a national and international promotion, including talks and events, to continue to raise awareness of their subject.

The film works as a traditional piece of cinema because it uses the same blueprint as a traditional linear narrative. The complex issues are laid out in chronological order, from Botany Bay to the current arguments about interventionism, the approach favoured by John Howard's government, which used the media by playing on stereotypes to whip up a moral panic over child abuse and alcoholism in Aboriginal communities. The main protagonists are also laid out for the audience to see. For example, the missionary's paternalistic approach of assimilation — removing children from their families to live with white families, as seen in the Golden Globe-nominated Rabbit-Proof Fence. Not only is this style easy to follow, it is vital in informing the audience of the history of the subject without browbeating them with something akin to a 74-minute political broadcast.

Interviews with young and old Yolngu people, ranging from community leaders to ordinary grandmothers, allows an intriguing look at a culture that is too often overlooked. The Aborigine communities are short on housing and facilities. Health problems mean that life expectancy is far below that enjoyed by their fellow Australians in the cities. Much of the political action has taken aim at the ills of these communities without examining the cause: the current incompatibility of the traditional Aborigine culture, including a more nomadic existence connected to the land, with the more recent western idea of permanent, city-dwelling society. One of the main demands of this documentary is the need, at the very least, for greater integration of these ideals.

Although the film has an agenda of sorts – to both unite First People communities into one voice and encourage that voice to be both used and heard – its main task is to provide a platform for education and action. On the one hand, the film is used to document the misguided policies of the past. However, the effect of the project is to spur a greater number of people to learn about the issue of indigenous rights and demand action be taken. In a similar way to Saban's experience with Bowling for Columbine, audiences should feel compelled to get involved, speak up and eventually force the issue on to the political agenda.

The subject of indigenous rights is a difficult and complex one for modern Australia. It is nagging problem yet to be tackled in the back of a national consciousness. However, facing up to such a subject may stir up emotions long buried or uncover old resentment, guilt or even shame. To a certain degree Kevin Rudd's apology has completed the hardest part. Now the examination of what went wrong and, more importantly, how best to move forward should be the focus.

You can get more information about the issues raised in the film, and buy your own copy of the documentary by going to the Our Generation website at www.ourgeneration.org.au