Main Crew: prod, Terry Hayes, Doug Mitchell, George Miller; dir, John Duigan; writ, John Duigan; dop, Geoff Burton; ed, Neil Thumpston; prod d, Roger Ford; cos, Lyn Askew, Fiona Nicolls.
Duigan's The Year My Voice Broke opens with a series of slow, meandering shots through the long grasses and over the hills that highlight the mythic country town that he has created. The photography during the opening sequence, concluding with a slow tracking shot towards the 'dream rocks' that top the hill, is reminiscent of Weir's Picnic At Hanging Rock (1975). Like Weir, Duigan does delve into the realm of the supernatural in explaining adolescent sexual awakening, mostly through the misguided preoccupations of Danny (Noah Taylor). He also paints a soft, romantic view of the rural Australian landscape while highlighting the malevolent darkness of small-town existence, only instead of a rock being the source of adversity, it is the people of the town, and the hidden guilt shrouding Freya's past, that hinder the growth process of the main characters.
Duigan has shaped the work in such a manner as to allow the audience to understand the depth of character that he has infused into the three leads. The main characters, while engaged in a love triangle that has been exploited cinematically on numerous occasions, such as in Chasing Amy (1997) and The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance (1962), are each seen to have multi-dimensional characters and deep motivations so as to avoid traditional clichés that tend to highlight such a storyline.
Danny is a cerebral youth who is enamoured of Freya, his childhood soulmate. His infatuation with Freya is a sign of his passionate core, and his desire to hold onto the predictable nature of his youth through his unique idiosyncracies, such as his belief in telepathy, shows his strong motivation towards retaining his past. Freya shares Danny's romantic and nostalgic view of her childhood, and shares many of his interests (even if only to please him). Similarly, Trevor's (Ben Mendelsohn) primal urge towards anti-authoritarianism, as well as tapping into the national archetype, displays his predilection with a simpler past.
With virtuososity, Duigan quickly establishes that the tragic relationship between the three characters is little more than a McGuffin that forms the basis for their development as individuals preparing to pass into the unpredictable realm of adulthood. As events unfold, most notably the realisation that Freya is the daughter of both a young prostitute who died while giving birth and Danny's father, we come to the realisation that Danny and Freya's love for each other will never be resolved physically.
