070 REVIEW
ollowing 2014’s maternally-oriented ghost
story The Babadook, director Jennifer
Kent’s second feature The Nightingale has
proved far more divisive with critics, many of them
decrying its representations of sexual violence as
gratuitous. The film features scenes of rape and
murder, centres on a character who is not entirely
sympathetic, and does not make things right by the
end. But none of these elements on their own are
objectionable.
Cinema is not a numbers game, and a film is not
the sum of its parts. A director does not win feminist
points by cancelling out a sexist element in their film
with an engineered “clapback”. The Nightingale is a
refreshing, necessary reminder that sexual violence
isn’t just a trendy topic that exists solely in the
abstract, but is primarily something experienced
which cannot be reduced to a film trope or easily
prevented in real life.
Set in Tasmania circa 1825, the film centres on
Clare (Aisling Franciosi), an Irish convict living in
a British penal colony with her husband and infant
child. When her family is killed by a rogue band of
British soldiers (led by Sam Claflin’s short-tempered
and vicious Hawkins) who rape her and leave her for
dead, Clare sets off on a dangerous journey across the
Australian bush to find and kill her attackers.
But this is not a rape-revenge movie. It does
not take the familiar narrative turns which allow
viewers to take refuge from the horror as it plays
out on screen. And it isn’t an allegory like Coralie
Fargeat’s stylised and emotionally heightened
2017 film, Revenge. Rather, the film centres on theexperience of sexual violence on a purely individual
level.
Kent emphasises the specificity of Clare’s story
throughout, most clearly when she shows us the
assault in a long, uninterrupted sequence, rendering
both its moment-to-moment terror and the details
which make it unique. As such, the director does
not reduce Clare’s rape to a mere narrative device- a break, a demarcation without consistency.
But perhaps more importantly, the length and
specificity of that sequence also challenge our
desire to “relate”: though we certainly feel bad for
Clare, her assault and story are hers alone.
Kent further obstructs the impulse to find
someone to identify with, root for and hold on to
in this world of pain by portraying Clare as a racist
through her interactions with indigenous tracker
Billy (Baykali Ganambarr). Though Clare eventually
comes to like him, their bond is not symbolic of
some wider, ahistorical breakthrough, and the film
never tries to equate her experience of sexism with
his dealings of racism. These are two characters
on parallel paths, dealing with parallel demons.
They cannot begin to fully understand each other’s
trauma. All they can do is act based on what they
gather from their own specific, unique perspective.
In Kent’s beautifully balanced and exquisitely
shot film, this is the best you can do for someone
without negating their experience or agency. The
Nightingale similarly does not ask its audience
to identify with, root for, or relate to any of its
characters. It only tells us to watch and to listen.
ELENA LAZIC
F
The Nightingale
Directed by
JENNIFER KENT
Starring
AISLING FRANCIOSI
SAM CLAFLIN
BAYKALI GANAMBARR
Released
29 NOVEMBER
ANTICIPATION.
The Babadook was a hoot, but
this looks to be very different.
ENJOYMENT.
Grueling but intensely rewarding,
it repays multiple viewings.
IN RETROSPECT.
A fearless, breathtaking
masterpiece.