The New Boy

The idea of colonialism not just in terms of geography but from a psychological and spiritual viewpoint comes to the fore in Warwick Thornton’s latest historical drama, which transports us back in time to 1940s Australia. The boy of the title (Aswan Reid, in the most affecting child debut of the past year) has just been unceremoniously dumped in a sack at a remote monastery. There, lads considered troublesome - and, therefore, thanks to racism, who are largely Aboriginal - are sent to be schooled in religion and life before being packed off at the earliest potential moment to work.

What the authorities don’t know is that the priest in charge has been communing with his maker more directly of late. The head nun Sister Eileen (Cate Blanchett) has decided to preserve the myth of his continued existence, while running the place herself, with some help from a second nun, Sister Mum (Deborah Mailman), and their handyman George (Wayne Blair). This act of rebellion, however, has not dented the religious fervour she possesses, even though she also has a bit of a penchant for the sacramental wine.

The new boy has a secret of his own, a spiritual gift that put me in mind of 2006 documentary Kanyini, a film which talks about a connectedness to four concepts “a belief system, spirituality, land and family”. Under his bed at night, he can conjure a light and, as the film progresses it seems he also possesses the power of healing.

The film largely revolves around the collision between his innate spirituality and that of the Christianity, which, even if she wouldn’t articulate it in these terms, Eileen is looking to colonise him with. Thornton has talked about the fact the nun was originally a priest, and the film benefits enormously from the gender switch. It allows Eileen’s own naivety and crisis of faith to reflect the experience of the new boy at the same time as softening what might have been seen as patriarchal influences, so that it is religion itself, rather than the overt male shaping of it, that comes under scrutiny.

Handsomely mounted in terms of both the wide open landscapes and the confines of the church, Thornton allows the mystery surrounding the boy’s powers to remain that way, unknowable perhaps even to the youngster. He also makes sure we see things from his perspective. After all, isn’t it natural for a young child to be scared of a man pinned with nails to a cross? Or to want to help him? There’s an enjoyable chaos to daily life in the monastery and a warmth, even as we can see that the literal and figurative light the boy has is threatened by what he finds there. The director’s sensitive touch with metaphor allows us to see that colonialism with a silk glove can be no less crushing than the iron fist.