Schoolteacher Simon Robinson (Nick Tate) has a new job in a coastal community, and, a little lost, he arrives he drives over a bridge that leads to the island of Summerfield only to discover that the way is barred by a locked gate. "You've gone the wrong way" comes a voice from the sea, and Simon looks down to notice a little girl, Sally (Michelle Jarman), sitting in a rowing boat but not facing him. She explains to him the correct road to reach the town, but as he drives off Simon does not know the significance the child will have to him later on...
Summerfield is often described as the Australian Wicker Man, but that description is as misleading as the film turns out to be, for this is no horror movie although it does have a shock ending where we find out a terrible secret. The film was scripted by Cliff Green, still riding high from his adaptation of Picnic at Hanging Rock which had awakened interest in his homeland's cinema industry both there and abroad, and adopted a similar mystery format. This, however, was a far more conventional plot, dressed up to appear as enigmatic as possible.
Not everyone agreed on how effective the film finally was, with the cast and crew expressing mixed feelings over the way it turned out, but over the years it gained a cult following of those who might have caught it on television and not knowing what to expect found themselves drawn in by the heavy atmosphere of foreboding. All the way through we are increasingly convinced that Simon's story is not going to end well, and with Tate skillfully playing the everyman role we are aware that such characters usually have a nasty surprise waiting in films such as this.
Which would not be far from the truth, as whatever dark deeds are occuring, they all seem to be connected to the disappearance of the previous schoolteacher, who apparently walked out of his lodgings one day and was never seen again. Simon later finds a hubcap from his car while out walking at the cliffs, and still later he uncovers the rest of the man's car stowed away in an isolated shed. Couple this with the fact that the locals are a bunch of shifty types who greet the newcomer with a wary welcome and it appears as if we're in the familiar territory of a community hiding a guilty secret, and it's not spoiling things to say Simon is sort of right in his assumptions.
On the other hand, he could not be more wrong. Summerfield moves at such a slow and langorous pace that even the glorious photography of Mike Molloy, rendering the landscape almost another character as is the way with rural Australian suspense items, seems to drain the life out of the story, embalming it rather than electrifying it. And yet somehow director Ken Hallam, who was not pleased with the end result, maintains your interest through each gradually revealed plot point, whether it's Simon accidentally running down one of his pupils in his car or being willingly seduced by his new landlady (Geraldine Turner). The upshot is that while Simon is not at fault, he is responsible for the awful incidents that close the film, and he has been sidetracked into looking for solutions in the wrong place. For all its drawbacks, which are not that many in truth yet do include a guessable twist, the film still haunts the mind. Music by Bruce Smeaton.
