Review: The Daughter

The Daughter (15)

Australia 2015 95 mins Dir: Simon Stone Starring: Geoffrey Rush, Anna Torv, Sam Neill, Miranda Otto, Paul Schneider, Odessa Young, Ewen Leslie

As Sam Goldwyn would have said, we’ve all passed a lot of water since Norwegian playwright Henrik Ibsen wrote The Wild Duck in 1884. After more than a century of ripe melodramas forged in its shadow, the story’s twist is now easily guessed. But in reworking his own stage production for the screen, Australian director Simon Stone has not only managed to preserve its emotional impact but also succeeds in circumventing the usual pitfalls to create a truly cinematic work. In this, he’s ably assisted by an exceptional, well-chosen cast.

The setting is an unnamed Australian logging town set in a wooded, mountainous landscape that might as well be Ibsen’s Norway. An added modern touch is the spectre of unemployment stemming from the impending closure of the town’s only mill after a century of operation. Wealthy owner Henry Neilson (Geoffrey Rush) delivers the usual platitudes to his angry workforce, but has other matters on his mind, specifically his impending marriage to former housekeeper Anna (Anna Torv). Estranged son Christian (Paul Schneider) is summoned from the US to serve as best man. His reluctance to fulfil this role is only partly explained by the randy old goat’s embarrassing union with a nubile blonde hottie. Christian’s own relationship is collapsing as a result of his alcoholism, though his partner has promised to arrive in time for the wedding.

In the meantime, he hooks up with gregarious, beardy childhood pal and former mill worker Oliver (Ewen Leslie), who’s now married to schoolteacher Charlotte (Miranda Otto) and has a teenage daughter named Hedwig (Odessa Young). Quite why anyone would call their daughter Hedwig in modern-day Australia is a bit of a mystery, but this is the only name retained from the play. Also living with the family is Oliver’s nature-loving former jailbird father (Sam Neill), whose menagerie has just been expanded with the arrival of an injured duck that Henry blasted out of the sky.

Before long, skeletons tumble from closets, simmering resentments are brought to the boil and families are torn apart. The Daughter carefully drip-feeds background information while having Neill’s character acknowledge the absence of surprises by remarking that, “Everyone’s got a story like this – it’s as old as the hills”. Displaying remarkable command of the medium for a first-time director, Stone gets exceptional performances from a genuine ensemble in which none of the bigger names are given the opportunity to grandstand. Regular Jane Campion collaborator Mark Bradshaw’s spare piano and cello score also succeeds in underlining the classiness of the production. Stone’s only misstep is in his laboured duck symbolism, which is sufficiently groanworthy to make sensitive moviegoers cry fowl.