Samson and Delilah

Not long ago, I went to see the somewhat acclaimed Kazakh film Tulpan. Having spent a year in Kazakhstan, I was looking forward to the film. What ensued was, in part, a couple of hours of discomfort. Despite some great shots and the raw capture of the sound of the fierce, unshielded winds on the arid steppe, I found that the film quite simply did not draw me in.

The Australian film, Samson and Delilah was, in some respects, a similar film to Tulpan. Set in the isolated, dusty, harsh outback, the film follows closely the lives of very few characters. Moreover, both films explore complex love stories with minimal dialogue - most noticeably between the two subjects of the love story.

I'm not entirely sure why - perhaps it is because I know Australia so much better - but Samson and Delilah managed to do what the Kazakh film couldn't: capture my imagination, emotions and interest.

Set in a small settlement, the film focuses on a bored, disengaged, petrol-sniffing teenage boy - Samson - and a quiet, caring, responsible but choice-starved girl - Delilah.

The opening sequences are the same. We watch each day pass in the same manner; beginning with Samson waking to the sound of his brother's tireless three-piece band and deeply inhaling from the old tin near his mattress.

Routine, rhythm - perhaps liturgy - seems to be an important motif. There is little to do in the red desert and not much to which one may aspire. As such, it is the daily routines that each person in the community performs which provides any sense of purpose. Samson's brother and his two music friends play the same basic riff from morning until night. Delilah waits until she has put her Nana to 'bed' before laying back, eyes closed, in a 4WD to escape with a tape of latin music. Samson always listens to the same country program for Aboriginal listeners on his old 'ghetto-blaster'.

Every day, Delilah takes her Nana to the health clinic and then to the 'abandoned' church, where she sits waiting for her grandmother to finish her prayers.

When Delilah's Nana dies and Samson lashes out in frustration due to his brother's incessant music playing (of which he desperately wants to be a part but is routinely ostracised from), the religiosity of daily life is broken.

Samson and Delilah, now some kind of awkward couple, make their way to Alice Springs. While a certain rhythm develops here, it is thwarted by the increasingly mind-numbing effects of sniffing petrol. While there is potentially more opportunity in the 'city', life has decidedly less to offer Samson and Delilah. Life unravels.

It seems that the movie may end a couple of times before it finally does. With each anticipation, one can't help but feel concerned that there will be no hope to this story. Indeed, while there does appear to be some kind of return to routine and liturgy, and a connectedness with the land, it does not, for me, seem to be enough. There is certainly no relief for the audience and I wonder if that is because we sense that there will be no real, long-term relief for the characters.

It is a film that has the quality of forcing us to think and, importantly, feel even after we leave the cinema. Wonderfully shot, sensitively developed, Samson and Delilah is a powerful film that, should you brace yourself for the experience, will leave a lasting impression.