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2 years ago
What social causes does Sweet As explore? First Nations People, Arts & Culture
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What’s the key social insight within Sweet As? Murra could be any teen: sensitive and talented, but also lost and in danger. With Indigenous teens at a disproportionately higher risk of trauma, discrimination, and incarceration, this short window at the cusp of adulthood can feel like a crossroads. Sweet As shows how empathy and guidance can throw anyone a lifeline of hope, and give them a new future.
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From Red Dog and Rabbit-Proof Fence to The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert, Australia’s such a wide brown land (strewth, it’s wide) that it’s the perfect backdrop for making road movies. Buckle up for a new entry that could be the sweetest yet, and not just going by the title.
Sweet As takes us on an intimate bus ride through the extraordinary landscape of the Pilbara, a vast area in the Western Australia’s north-west. We’re talking spectacular gorges, dramatic waterfalls and colours ranging from an impossibly vivid red-orange (the soil) through to sparkling jade green watering holes (yep, it ain’t all dusty desert out there).
A pretty top spot for some photography then - but we’re not just taking happy snaps for fun. This trip is a wake-up and a shake-up. It’s a “We don’t know where else to turn” therapy tour, booked by some desperate loved ones for their son, their daughter, their grandson… their niece. A foursome of at-risk teens who, in their own ways, are all in need of rescue.
There’s Elvis, the “class clown”, who was violently beaten for being an Indigenous kid in the wrong place at the wrong time. There’s Kylie, the all-grown-up girl with the much older boyfriend who’s being gaslit at best, and abused at worst. There’s Sean, the quiet kid, whose compulsive thoughts mean he constantly thinks about taking his own life. And there’s our main character, Murra: quiet, sensitive, but with flashes of anger that can quickly erupt, and a wave of sexual emotions that feel just as explosive.
With their two cheerful team leaders (doing quadruple duty as drivers, mentors and photography teachers), we careen down the dusty highway with this unlikely quartet on a journey to - heal some pain? Find some hope? Or shake themselves out of risky patterns that could see them repeating a lifetime of their Elders’ mistakes? As we soon discover, the Sweet As ride is a blend of all three.
Keen to see Sweet As? Hit the cinema for less with Good Tix - eVouchers for cheaper movies with a donation to charity built-in. Yep, the donation’s on us, and you choose where it goes - like charities that support First Nations People.
Within the first minutes of Sweet As, we get a strong idea of Murra’s home life, and how she’s dealing with stuff that no 16-year-old girl should have to. Her Mum is abusing alcohol, and throws loud parties where the house is pounding at 3am.
Even without the music, Murra might be too edgy to sleep, with her bedroom door getting banged on by drunk guys wanting to break into her room to harass her… or worse. Can you imagine coming home from school and sliding a heavy dresser across your bedroom door to barricade yourself inside, like Murra does?
On top of this, Murra’s been pinged for shoplifting some dinner ingredients… or as she puts it, “I had a run-in with some frozen goods.” There’s no sign of her Dad, and with her rough home life she often doesn’t stay at her Mum’s, finding some solace at her Uncle Ian’s place - the local cop.
It’s clear that Murra is a good kid, but it’s just as clear that it wouldn’t take much to nudge Murra into an abyss of child protection services, crime or substance abuse that could potentially suck her future away.
This isn’t hyperbole, it’s reflected in statistics today. Often lacking an effective support structure, Indigenous teens are over-represented in Australia’s juvenile justice system. An Australian Institute of Health & Welfare report found that an alarming 49% of young offenders in 2020-21 were Indigenous - yet they make up less than 6% of the population. And Western Australia - where Sweet As is set - has the highest rate of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander youth detention.
Indigenous elders suggest a key formula to prevent this kind of offending: taking a proactive approach in the community, consulting community elders, talking to teens one-on-one about what they need, and helping them with their grief. The idea of a bus journey - one that uses travel and photography to connect to country - is a microcosm of this concept of support.
Determined not to see his niece get pulled under by these negative currents, Uncle Ian signs Murra up for the trip. As they pull out of Port Hedland, a mining town almost 2000km north of Perth, another juxtaposition is laid out: the one between industry and nature. As the Goliath of mining juggernauts and huge shipping vessels - AKA white man’s creation - fade away in the rear-view, we’re enveloped by the rugged Pilbara landscape… colossal natural gorges and endless red plains. Murra may not realise it, but she’s begun her journey home.
The crew don’t exactly bond from minute one. Sean is shy, Kylie is defensive and Murra is wary. They feel forced into this “lame” bus ride - and speaking of lame, the point-and-shoot cameras they’ve been given to document their trip are the old-school film kind. No digital display to even see the shots we’re taking, WTF?!
There’s a reason, of course: without the instant gratification of seeing the pic (and with only 24 shots to a roll), tour guide Fernando explains that they’ll have to slow down, appreciate their surroundings, and think about every shot. It’s a nod to mindfulness that becomes a common thread throughout their journey.
This deepens when the gang reach a stunning gorge, taking the time & space to pay their respects to the Traditional Owners at the edge of a swimming hole. Water sources are sacred to Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples - gathering places where social, legal and ceremonial matters would take place.
Elvis shows the others an Indigenous ritual: they each pick up a smooth stone, rub it under their arm to add their scent, and throw it into the water to alert the spirit of the water serpent that they’re visiting with respect. Murra adds another ritual, cupping the cool water to her mouth and spraying it in a misty burst across the lagoon - which the others copy with glee.
From this moment, there’s a new energy to the gang - and to the film. There’s a bonding that starts to happen between these characters, as they in turn forge a deeper connection to nature. We feel this in the pace, as director Clerc and her cinematographer Katie Milwright linger on Murra deciding which textures of rock and flora to focus her camera on.
She can’t see how her shots are turning out - old-school, remember? - but we can: with every shutter click, Murra’s photos appear for us throughout Sweet As. It’s a clever way to literally show us the country through Murra’s eyes; her artistry, and her sensitive point of view.
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It might sound like a simple road trip, but Jub Clerc packs a lot into her big-screen debut. The kids fight, then rebuild trust. They run off, then get busted. They get separated and find each other. There’s a ceremonial hunt, a celebratory campfire, and a few dashes of flirting as they drunkenly sneak into a small-town council pool for an unsanctioned late night pool party. We mentioned these are teenagers, right?
It’s all tinged with a bittersweet quality as the thrill of discovery is underpinned by the pain the characters are working through: trauma, displacement, abuse, and their mental health. Opening up to the others, Murra explains she was getting into trouble in a subconscious plea for belonging: ”I felt invisible for a long time. I kept doing stupid things, so someone would see me. And I wouldn’t be left alone.”
But Sweet As makes sure to leave you feeling uplifted. We grow to understand these teens on the road - and get to see them slowly finding the keys to help their healing. As our nation readies to potentially alter our Constitution and finally recognise the First Peoples of Australia, it’s a healing and a hope that we should all embrace. Speaking about her film, Jub Clerc sums it up best:
“We wanted to tell this story through the eyes of a young First Nations girl on the cusp of becoming a woman whilst navigating the landmine of being a person of colour. We wanted to use the transformative power of country to reach out to the kids that continue to slip through the cracks, being let down by multiple systems. We wanted to amplify a feeling of hope. A youthful hope.”
Sweet As is now screening in select cinemas Australia-wide.