The Wolves Always Come At Night
As a somewhat self-loathing sandgroper, Australian-made films are always a bit of a hit or miss for me. There have been some that reignited my faith throughout the past few years (Talk To Me, The Stranger, Birdeater and You Won’t Be Alone) along with plenty that…haven’t. So I entered Gabrielle Brady’s The Wolves Always Come At Night with some trepidation. Despite the fact that the film is set oceans away in Mongolia, its universal themes of loss and family upheaval made me feel as connected to it as if it were set on a farm in WA.
Like Honeyland before it The Wolves Always Come at Night is somewhere between a reenactment and a documentary, charting the lives of Mongolian livestock herders as they navigate the transition between their rural, nomadic lifestyle to an urban lifestyle no thanks to the destructive influence of climate change.
Set in the Bayanhongor province in Mongolia, nomadic couple Davaa and Zaya live with their four kids, caring for their herd and living contentedly in their ger. We’re privy to real animal births, real loss and a real family at the centre of Brady’s film, and it’s all inspired by people she spoke to on a trip back to the place she grew up. Brady says:
“I met with an old friend who told me that every night he dreamt only of the countryside and his animals that had died in one of the erratic storms hitting the country. His dreaming life existed solely in the landscape he had left.”
Half the family’s herd does indeed perish in a storm, forcing patriarch Davaa to move his family to the nearest city and work in a gravel factory in order to provide. But Davaa still sees visions - or are they real? - of the stallion he had to sell in order to move his family cityside. It haunts him but also reminds him of better, simpler times. It haunts me, too.
“The first time I lived in Mongolia I was young, only just in my twenties” Brady explained. “By returning I wanted to have a different exchange. I spent time with old friends, people with a strong connection to land, to animals, in the city now, no longer embedded in the landscape. I felt a quiet loss that really affected me, moved me.”
This sense of loss reflects in the film’s imagery in quite a profound way. It’s a stripped back, bare bones and empathetic look at what it means to be a family of five just trying to make life work without leaving a massive footprint behind, and then being forced to do so when the actions of others start to impact your way of life. I found myself quite overwhelmed with emotion in a way I wasn’t necessarily expecting from a random Australian-made movie on a weeknight, but that I’m grateful for nonetheless.
The Wolves Always Come At Night is the kind of film where subtitles are supplementary in conveying meaning. Its most affecting scenes often feature no dialogue at all; just slow, contemplative visions of animals traversing lands they weren’t meant to encounter, and a special symbol of one’s old freedom appearing once again before him on the road. I wept, and felt a kind of catharsis I don’t fully understand as a privileged person living in a first world country. Thankfully, Brady does.
Hers is a film that elicits similar feelings as Ryusuke Hamaguchi’s Evil Does Not Exist in that it feels like a fly-on-the-wall account of something personally devastating to the characters that we as the audience are powerless to influence. It’s among the best examples of less plot, more feeling that I can remember from the past few years, and I really hope it gets a proper run in cinemas after its run during Perth Festival.
Verdict:
☆☆☆☆½
The Wolves Always Come At Night screens at UWA Somerville on Monday 9th and Tuesday 10th December. It’s not enough time, really. But if you can rearrange plans and brave the heat, I’d highly encourage you to make the trip.
