Hello everyone,
I have just spend the last hour trying to remember my login details – this, my friends, is conclusive proof of my absence these last months. In light of this, I thought I’d share a freebie. There aren’t that many sample responses getting around for ‘High Ground’. Here is one that I have put together for my students. Please feel free to use and share.

Ideally I would include more quotes, and re-read this a number of times before posting. Also, Baywarra is sometimes spelt ‘rr’ sometimes ‘r’ so I’m going with the double ‘r’.

According to ‘High Ground’ reconciliation is impossible. Do you agree?

Stephen Johson’s 2020 revisionist historical drama High Ground reflects on the challenge of reconciling a past where the massacre of a mob of Yolngu tribespeople establishes the deep divisions between white interlopers and traditional land owners. Rupturing the continuity of Yolngu life, the 1919 massacre elicits a violent response from the survivor Baywarra whose retaliatory campaign against the perpetrators twelve years after the atrocity is motivated by vengeance. The paradoxical response counters Grandfather Darrpa’s adherence to the system of Makarrata and its enshrined practices of consistency and balance. Appropriating a form of justice more in keeping with the values of his adversaries, Baywarra’s quest for justice suggests that vindication is the means through which reconciliation can be achieved. The violence that follows exemplifies the transformative impact of colonisation on Yolngu culture. Symbolising the broader narrative of colonial conquest, the frontier setting of East Arnhem Land becomes the site where seemingly incompatible cultures clash. Observing the conflict play out as the quest to silence Baywarra intensifies, Gutjuk’s allegiances are torn. Subscribing in the end, to the philosophy of a grandfather whose wisdom is reflected in his deference to the natural world, Gutjuk’s decision to reject the violence associated with British justice and in turn his uncle, and to adopt the practice of Makarrata offers a way forward where healing perhaps, suggests Samuel Johnson, can lead to understanding and in turn, reconciliation.

The inconsistency of laws that purport to enforce order and protect both indigenous and non-indigenous peoples is evident in the brutal massacre scene that interrupts the daily rituals and practices of the Yolngu clan. Stephen Maxwell Johnson exposes the fraught nature of justice as the pursuit of two First Nations men wanted for killing a station owner’s cattle results in the brutal massacre of a tribe of seventeen men, women, and children. The indiscriminate murder of the clanspeople is initiated by Eddy’s first shot. Believing that Baywarra is about to attack, his undisciplined actions result in the impulsive shooting of Baywarra. The contrasting midshot of Baywarra, spear in hand, and the cross-shot of Eddy, rifle cocked, highlight the power imbalance that exists as the young hunter attempts to protect his nephew Gutjuk. The barrage of shots that follow generates mayhem and disorder, and the carefully planned mission to bring in the two assailants is exposed as a failure. Not only does Johnson expose the arbitrary application of justice at the hands of those who do not value the lives of the Yolngu people, but he also examines how those who initiate violence can exist with impunity, protected by the laws that they have violated. Confronting viewers with a revisionist interpretation of Australia’s colonial history Johnson challenges the myth of settlement, and in telling this truth, initiates the reconciliation process. Recasting the narrative, scenes of brutality invoke discomfort. Close-up shots of carnage reveal the damage done by indiscriminate and erratic gunfire. Johnson presents the white settlers as debased and uncivilized and in turn, represents the humanity of the Yolngu clan. The familial and cultural dynamic that is shown at the billabong depicts the kinship practices that unite the Yolngu as a community. Shattering the continuity of a way of life that is ritualistic and highly organised, the crime results in the manufacturing of an alibi. The pact between Moran, Eddy, and a reluctant Travis, exemplifies a resistance to speaking the truth, articulating, all the more urgently the importance of reconciliation for an audience of contemporary viewers unfamiliar with a narrative that counters the story of peaceful settlement.

Exposed to competing systems of justice first as a child and later as a teenager, Gutjuk is torn between the lore of his grandfather and the law of his his uncle. Johnson presents the impressionable young Gutjuk as a responsive listener who embraces the teachings of his Uncle Baywarra, who admonishes him playfully, for mistiming the throwing of his spear. Establishing the film’s exposition, Johnson endorses the concept of balance as a form of tribal lore the colonial intruders subsequently destroy. The massacre scene works in opposition to Yolngu cultural practices, where the symbolic handing over of the spearhead – the ‘rule of law’, is a practice that can only occur when true knowledge is attained. Concerningly, those who lack wisdom exercise the most authority in this text. Severing the connection to his people, the massacre of his family establishes Gutjuk as the subject of British law and the teachings of the church. The indoctrination of missionary teachings, where a biblical lesson on dispossession is presented to a dispossessed Yolngu congregation, ‘evicted from the land’ further elucidates Johnson’s critique of power and its administration by those who impart lessons without the moral agency or wisdom to do so. Gutjuk’s subordination is revealed through the high-angle shot of him ringing the church bell, the looming bell a symbol of hierarchical control. The idea is further reinforced by Braddock’s sermonising as he stands with the cross of the church behind him, validating to his parishioners, his religious mandate. Contesting the legitimacy of Braddock’s evangelical mission, the burning of the church becomes the means by which Baywarra challenges the legitimacy of settlement. Motivated not only by the act of reclamation, reconciliation for Baywarra is aligned with retribution. However, the quest for vengeance twelve years after the massacre problematises the nature of healing in accordance with Yolngu tribal lore. Action rather than pacifism defines Baywarra’s campaign for justice. Organising a guerrilla outfit comprised of (according to Moran) a ‘coalition of Myalls’, the deliberate arson attacks on white settlements are exposed as destructive. Compounding the divisions between the white newcomers and the traditional owners, the violence that ensues exacerbates the irreconcilable differences between the two groups.

Contesting colonial justice, Baywarra’s actions arouse the interest of his missionary-raised nephew Gutjuk who sees in his former mentor, the hallmark of a leader. Gutjuk’s meeting with Gulwirri also encourages him to entertain the idea that anger for those who have been wronged, is a legitimate response to injustice. Telling him that it’s all ‘you’ve got’, Gutjuk is prompted to consider the relationship between power and anger. Finally, working in opposition to the earlier teachings of Grandfather Darrpa and the clan, the relationship between power and control is demonstrated as Travis instructs Gutjuk how to shoot a rifle. Establishing distance between the target and the shooter, the barrier denotes the extent to which the colonists can relinquish accountability for their actions. The emphasis on control, moreover, confirms the relationship between justice and its subsequent abuse, metaphorically aligning the white bastions of colonial law with the high ground. Despite the claims made by Baywarra, Gulwirri, and Travis, it is the moral high ground that Grandfather Darrpa occupies, presented visually as a series of wide-angled panoramic shots that seemingly encase him in the rock that is also the flint of the spearhead, that confirms his role as the principal authoritative figure in the film. Asking Gutjuk whether he will follow his Uncle’s path, and seek to avenge his dead forebears, he communicates to his grandson, a message of reconciliation forged through the recognition of consistency and balance. The gentleness of his instructive language is at odds with the aggression of Baywarra and Gulwirri, and in the end, Travis’s final sacrificial act becomes a moment of epiphany for Gutjuk. Disarming himself, Gutjuk leaves the scene of carnage weaponless. The rite of passage denoted by his application of tribal lore represents symbolically, the transferral of the spearhead, from Grandfather Darrpa to his grandson, countering tentatively, the tragic undertone of the film.

Challenging the idea of resolution, High Ground acknowledges the overwhelming impact of colonisation on the people of East Arnhem Land. Despite this, Gutjuk’s decision to reject violence and embrace Makarrata affirms the wisdom and leadership qualities of a young man whose grace offers hope in reconciliation. Surrendering his life for Gutjuk, Travis’s sacrificial gesture moreover, counters the intractable racism of his peers, suggesting that new ways of understanding are possible. Finally, it is the process of rewriting the narrative of peaceful settlement that perhaps offers the most opportunity for reconciliation.