It was, says actor Dean Daley-Jones (pictured, right), a sight to behold: 'brother boys going outside the cinema in Broome, pretending to have a cigarette but really just getting emotional because of the story'.
'They were Kimberley mad bastards,' he explains; 'black cowboys, hunters and gatherers; physically built and strong men; beautiful men in the soul, but wild fellas. Natives. And they were coming out of the cinema choked up.'
The reason for this show of masculine emotion was Mad Bastards, a new film starring Daley-Jones and directed by Sydney filmmaker Brendan Fletcher.
It's not a documentary, although it does draw heavily upon the real-life experiences of the Indigenous men and women, including Daley-Jones, who contributed to its writing and who appear in it as actors.
And judging by the emotion on display outside the cinema in Broome, it's fair to say Mad Bastards, fiction or otherwise, doesn't so much touch on truth as drag it, reluctant and brooding, onto the exposed surface of a parched mudflat, to be examined and better understood.
Through a fictionalised story of violence and redemption, the film explores a concept Fletcher describes as 'mad bastardry' — a 'masculine energy' that, he says, is too often either expelled through violence, numbed by alcohol — or both.
Central character T.J. (Daley-Jones) has struggled with alcohol and aggression throughout his adult life, and has now returned to his home town to try to reconnect with his estranged son, Bullet (Lucas Yeeda). The boy himself has been in trouble with the law and, in addition to his tumultuous reuinion with his father, the film charts his participation in a program for adolescent offenders that sees them camping in the wilderness and learning traditional wisdom and skills.
The film also follows T.J.'s antagonistic relationship with Texas, the boy's grandfather and the tough but big-hearted town cop. Texas is trialling his own solution to male misbehaviour, by hosting regular support group meetings that invite participants to diffuse their anger through listening and sharing.
There's no doubt the film has struck a chord with Kimberley locals. This was evident in the emotional response of the men outside the cinema in Broome, and was also apparent during a screening in the remote northern town of Wyndham (where the film was shot); some 80 per cent of the population showed up, and many were forced to peer over the perimeter fence after the venue filled to capacity.
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