Silence is golden in Samson and Delilah

It’s the story of two Aboriginal teenagers living on a central Australian settlement where nobody answers the one pay-phone. But what we see fully compensates for the lack of dialogue, as the extraordinary non-professional leads, Rowan McNamara and Marissa Gibson, bind together to alleviate their misfortunes.

The film, placid in pace as it is, tells us more about the treatment of Aboriginals by Australia’s authorities than any furious drama. It also suggests that Aboriginals have it in themselves to mend their broken lives.

The tousle-haired Samson, living alone in a tumbledown shack, wants to be a musician and has a brutal fight with his brother when excluded from band practice. He sets his sights on Delilah not by talking but by throwing his old mattress into her garden. She looks after her ailing grandmother and helps her earn a meagre living making traditional artworks which are sold on to tourists for far more money.

When grandma dies, Samson steals a jeep and drives into the desert with Delilah. They end up living rough under a bridge in Alice Springs, aided only by a down-and-out (the director’s brother, Scott) who shares his food with them. Stoned on petrol, Samson can’t help Delilah when something horrid occurs. The couple may or may not have a future together, though the final reel suggests they have.

Thornton, himself Aboriginal, orchestrates this virtually mute piece with slow-burning, often vividly-shot grace and complete authenticity. It is not so much angry as certain about itself and what it quietly says as one of the most original, impressive Australian films for years. (Opens tomorrow)

Samson & Delilah
Cert: 15