The writer-director bug strikes again in South Solitary, a film that promises much in its first half but has ultimately delivered very little by the time the credits roll.

Shirley Barrett’s story of a 35-year-old spinster who ends up marooned on a desolate island with only a sullen and withdrawn assistant lighthouse keeper as company is beautifully mounted and crackles with an early humour, but some significant structural problems prevent it from ever being truly involving or convincing.

Miranda Otto plays Meredith, who arrives at the isolated lighthouse island of South Solitary in 1927 to assist her uncle Wadsworth (Barry Otto) in his newly appointed position as head lighthouse keeper. Meredith has never married, a fact she accepts with outward stoicism but inner embarrassment, and acts as her uncle’s faithful secretary despite his continual scorn and nonexistent affection.

On the island already are the roguish assistant keeper Harry Stanley (Rohan Nichol), his frosty wife Alma (Essie Davis), their three children, and also another assistant keeper, the withdrawn and fidgety Fleet (Marton Csokas). An awkward wallflower, Meredith struggles to find her place among these strangers, but when Stanley begins to show signs of being attracted to her it kicks off a series of events that will turn everyone’s lives upside down.

In its early scenes, South Solitary bubbles along in style, an engaging and well-chosen cast fitting into a pitch perfect representation of late 1920s Australia. There’s some fine technical work, courtesy of DOP Anna Howard and production designer Paul Heath, while Barrett’s script deftly sketches the key character points and relationships.

But everything comes to an ungodly halt at about the halfway point. The premise seems to suddenly change and the engagingly oddball nature of the early reels switches to a much more contemplative and claustrophobic second period.

It’s unclear as to what Barrett was trying to do with her screenplay: either she simply decided to switch things up or, more likely, the writer-director let her first act go on for far too long. The whole film seems to have a crisis of confidence, and while it throws the audience it also affects the character development, strong early work coming to naught as the arcs flatten out into nothing substantial at all. When South Solitary reaches some sort of point of climax, you’re beyond caring.

It’s a pity, because the film has plenty in its favour. Besides the technical achievements, the filmmakers managed to collect a fantastic cast. Barry Otto is terrific as Wadsworth and Nichol gets his tone just right as the slippery Stanley. Csokas should at this point need no introduction, the kiwi actor bringing all his intimidating charisma to bear on the role of the damaged Fleet. Miranda Otto too provides a nice reminder of her quality as a performer, although she can’t quite topple the flaws written into her character.

If South Solitary had seen a few more revisions at the scripting phase it could have been something truly special. Even a clever editing job might have saved the film. As it is, however, this is the work of yet another Australian filmmaker who’d do well to at least share the screenwriting duties with someone else.


I say: A film with plenty of technical craft on display but one that’s ultimately sunk by a wonky screenplay.

See it for: Csokas, who could pick his nose and still be fascinating to watch.