Warwick Thornton’s The New Boy

For a nun in the 1940s, Sister Eileen is surprisingly progressive. That seems especially so with regards to the indigenous orphans she cares for. Admittedly, the Australian government ripped them away from their families and culture, but at least she tries to provide a sheltering sanctuary for her charges. However, the latest arrival is quite mysterious (according to both the conventional and Catholic meanings of the word) in director-screenwriter Warwick Thornton’s The New Boy, which opens in select theaters this Friday.

It is clear from the opening scene that Sister Eileen does not approve of the outback copper transporting her newest resident in a burlap bag. It is also clear that she runs the show at her remote orphanage-school, not the unseen authority figure, Dom Peter, for whom she claims to speak.

Even his fellow students consider their new classmate a wild child. They simply call him “the New Boy,” which Sister Eileen also adopts until a better name comes along, perhaps through divine intervention. Maybe that would not be so impossible. The New Boy seems to have supernatural healing powers. He also shows a strange affinity for the antique crucifixion altar piece that arrives shortly after he does. It is not exactly reverent awe. It is more like a sense of empathy for Jesus.

Arguably, the film’s identity politics could have been even more didactic. However, the allegorical religious symbolism remains crushingly heavy-handed. Somehow, Thornton’s screenplay finds a way to be maddeningly obtuse and glaringly unsubtle. Nothing whispers in The New Boy. Instead, everything scrams—despite the attempted dreaminess of Thornton’s work as his own cinematographer.

Cate Blanchett labors as Sister Eileen to deliver the film through its aesthetic temptations and stifling thematic travails. However, the most interesting portrayal is that of Wayne Blair, as George, an indigenous convert, who clearly relates to the student-orphans in very complex but personal ways. Likewise, Deborah Mailman also adds a lot of humanistic sensitivity, as “Sister Mum,” another indigenous convert, who presumably took orders after the tragic deaths of her children.

Unfortunately, despite the uniformly strong performances, the third act is just an impenetrable muddle. It is not a case where viewers might have fun debating elements left open to interpretation. Rather, it is a murky mess that leaves Thornton’s intentions unclear—and consequently unfulfilled.

Like American films, Australian cinema is currently focused almost exclusively on its own national sins. In contrast, Chinese and Russian cinema is hyper-conscious of presenting the best national foot forward for the rest of the world to see. Frankly, they do not need to attack the U.S, or Australia in their propaganda, because we do it ourselves. The New Boy is a prime example. The truth is neither extreme is healthy. We should face up to our national sins, but we should also trumpet our successes and virtues.

Regardless, The New Boy is a frustrating film. It is clearly driven by considerable anger, but that never translates into intensity, clarity, or illumination—but rather the opposite of all the aforementioned. Not recommended, in spite of the worthy ensemble cast, The New Boy opens this Friday (5/23) in theaters.