Veteran director Bruce Beresford’s new film, The Travellers, is a painfully earnest drama about a hotshot stage designer who returns from Europe to visit his family in Western Australia. Many scenes feel tender and truthful, but tonally the film wobbles around for a long time – not quite cloying or cheesy but often on the brink – before finally toppling into a cringe-inducing “gee shucks” spirit.
Its cultural commentaries – revolving around Australian and European attitudes – feel old-fashioned and simplistic, and while it’s told from the heart, sentiment smothers the story.
The film’s appealingly unhurried rhythms are established in its opening moments, as Stephen (Luke Bracey), the aforementioned stage designer, lands in WA. At a local pub he says “yes” when the bartender asks if he wants a beer – even though we already know he’d prefer a chardonnay or a riesling. Many details telegraph his out-of-towner, high-cultured status, from a chic wardrobe (are cravats even allowed in WA?) to “so you think you’re better than us?” type comments, mostly levelled at him by two former school bullies.
When Stephen visits his old family home he discovers his father, Fred (Bryan Brown), has let it fall into disrepair while his mother is in hospital on her deathbed. I appreciated how Beresford makes it unclear whether Fred is a bit non compos mentis or just getting older and caring less about things: not changing lightbulbs, for instance, and showering while fully dressed (a practice he claims is in fact innovative, allowing him to wash himself and his clothes at the same time). Movies often tell us in precise terms whether a character is sane or not, but life doesn’t tend to work like that; when people get older and more idiosyncratic, they don’t hold up a sign saying “I’m loopy now”.
Stephen’s sister, Nikki (Susie Porter), is somewhere between the two men personality-wise – not as rough as Fred but more grounded than her slightly aloof brother. It’s clear there are deep-seated feelings and unresolved issues between the three – particularly Stephen and Fred – but Beresford (who also wrote the screenplay) leaves many things unsaid.
His staging of scenes reminded me of the often mellow, domesticated vibes of Paul Cox films, even if Cox would probably have made this world feel scruffier and more lived-in. Beresford’s work, particularly in recent years, tends to have a shiny veneer, while his output from the 70s and 80s was often more visually interesting: sometimes scratchier (The Adventures of Barry McKenzie), sometimes rawer (Breaker Morant), sometimes more lyrical (The Getting of Wisdom).
The Travellers feels deliberately scaled back visually, emphasising dialogue and performances, though the drama doesn’t have the zest of other Beresford films with a comparably modest aesthetic (such as The Club and Don’s Party). I like all three lead performances, but the whole cast has a tendency to speak in quiet, measured tones, as if countering or pre-empting the script’s mawkish tendencies. It feels a bit stagey; I hankered for hot, raw emotions.
This is why Brown’s performance is so appealing: he can pierce the film’s theatrical sheen with just one bleary-eyed squint – even if Beresford doesn’t let him go too far with the crazy old man schtick. Bracey, who was great in the underappreciated 2023 thriller Mercy Road, also impresses with his layered and restrained performance. Porter is strong too; she makes the most of every scene but her role is limited, not allowing a lot of depth or range.
You can sense a syrupy ending is on its way when a pair of mean characters are suddenly rewritten as nice, fundamentally decent people; turns out we just needed to get to know them. The Travellers also spends a lot of time pondering whether Stephen considers himself to be fundamentally Australian or European, allowing Beresford to contemplate the virtues of dazzlingly large and cultured cities versus small and humble neighbourhoods in WA.
The director, like his protagonist, has achieved great success overseas; this strand of the film feels like an attempt to come to terms with his own feelings. There’s nothing wrong with that, but a late section in which Beresford attempts to defend the art of opera – by turning hard yakka Aussies into fans – feels almost farcical. In the end, The Travellers is more painfully earnest than profound.
The Travellers is in Australian cinemas now
