They call her the ‘Camel Lady’ who, in 1977, was crazy enough to travel half way across Australia’s barren desert on foot just for the hell of it, with four camels and a faithful dog as her only companions. The trek, which spanned 1700 miles from Alice Springs to the west coast on the edge of the Indian Ocean, was practically a death wish for 27-year-old Robyn Davidson who had little previous experience in the wild despite two years of training feral camels. With but a radio and no other means of luxury, Davidson’s desire for solitude was a desperate measure for self-exploration. Having grown restless from the apathy of her generation and wanting to extend the limits of expectation, whenever she was faced with the question of why, she would simply answer “why not?” Her astonishing true story was first documented in an article for National Geographic and later in autobiographical long-form, bestselling book, Tracks.
Over the years, efforts have been made
to adapt Tracks for the big screen
with both Julia Roberts and Nicole Kidman being attached to the lead role. But until now, Davidson has been rather ambivalent towards
having her personal story immortalised on film. With director John
Curran at the helm, continually reminding us of the true spirit of adventure,
it’s not too presumptuous to say her wait has been rewarded. The
film is led by a stirring yet gentle performance by Mia Wasikowska whose
likeness to Davidson is uncanny. It’s largely a one-woman show and she
exquisitely infuses her character with a commendable balance of determination
and anti-socialness. It’s no secret that the real Davidson was reluctant to
seek sponsorship for her journey and was less than thrilled by the occasional
presence of American photographer Rick Smolan, which she saw as an insensitive
intrusion. Smolan, here amusingly incarnated by Girls star Adam Driver, is an eternally
talkative and upbeat presence who rendezvous with Davidson at scattered points
in her journey to take snapshots of her in her ‘element’. Initially she is
resentful of his ‘perfectly nice’ company, but slowly warms to him and together
they engage in an ‘on again, off again’ romance.
Wasikowska captures the sharp edges of
Davidson’s brusque personality with ease. She is somewhat brittle in her
dismissal of others and is hesitant to commit to anything but the unforgiving
landscape that lies before her. Though she does her best to avoid excess
companionship, she acknowledges the need for guidance from Aboriginal Elder Mr.
Eddy (Roly Mintuma) who helps her bypass sacred sites. He elicits respect and
punctures through her standoffishness to bring out a warm, otherwise unseen,
spirit. Some viewers may become impatient with the unchanging environment and
lack of melodrama but Wasikowska’s strength is unyielding. The dreaded
possibility of failure, of going back on ones tracks, is what drives her
forward. Not much else is given as to her
underlying motivations, but the film does offer fragmented glimpses into her
past with fleeting memories of grief surrounding her home life.
In many ways, Tracks is comparable to Chris
McCandless' famed odyssey as imagined in Sean Penn's 2007 film Into the Wild. Discovering oneself by
means of exile is a theme that runs through both stories. In a desperate search
for adulthood and independence, both young adults remove themselves from
materialism and conformity to engage with nature. Take Emile Hirsch’s Chris McCandless who was richly drawn, strong-willed and kindly. His upper middle class
background and academic success were understandable instigators of his strong
contempt for a conceited society. On the other hand, Robyn Davidson’s character
isn’t quite as realized; her impulses remain vague, she isn’t as sympathetic
and her walk scarcely
sustains a feature length. She is undoubtedly an enigmatic heroine
but her motivations are difficult to invest in. Once the camels are herded and
the trek gets going, the narrative sinks distantly into the desert plains.
Its third act feels stretched and, at a
total running time of 110 minutes, the film could have benefited from a tighter
edit. That’s not to say the journey is a bore, for there is a lot to admire
about the Australian Outback. Its painterly red dunes and sandy remote lands are
expertly photographed with a fine eye for composition. Cinematographer Mandy
Walker has beautifully brought to life a visual dreamscape that takes on an
almost spiritual aura. Filmed in the South Australian deserts and in the
Northern Territory, he revels in the details of dust, cracked skin and harsh
terrain. As glorious as it is to look at, the
camera indulges over these beautiful landscapes sometimes at the expense of the
story particularly in the sluggish final quarter. Despite being longwinded,
Davidson’s story is an extraordinary, unprecedented feat worthy of being told.
These days, with the advances of modern
technology, exploration of even the most isolated areas is no longer such a
lonely prospect. An element of risk has been lost since it is very hard to disappear under the radar with your IPhone or GPS
in hand. Today at the age of 63, the traveller and author feels incredibly
blessed to have ‘got in’ before the world became so ‘pathologically safe’. In a
recent conversation with Fenella Kernebone for Art After Hours at The Art Gallery of NSW, Davidson was once again
faced with the inevitable question of why she went on the journey in the first
place. She said: “I’ve been trying to answer that question for thirty years and
really I don’t think it has an answer”. Her inability to define her experience
in terms of a solely specific purpose is perhaps why her story lives on today.
Intrigued viewers and readers look to her passage to inspire and reflect upon
their own independence and thirst for adventure.
Curran’s account provides as much insight into the ‘Camel Lady’ as possible without succumbing to fantasy or
the usual tricks of manipulation. Pacing and scripting issues aside, he
has presented a neatly packaged triumph; a character study wrapped up in a road
movie. Technically, Tracks is
excellent. And Davidson’s quest is certainly inspired. Whether the emotion and humanity the film so
keenly hopes to elicit shines through, is not so certain.
