Farm Documentary Highlights Indigenous Agricultural Vision

Bruce Pascoe, the author behind the influential book Dark Emu, is living his convictions. Using proceeds from his 2014 bestseller, Pascoe acquired a picturesque property along the Wallagaraugh River to put his theories into practice. The book challenges the long-held colonial narrative that Indigenous Australians were solely hunter-gatherers, instead presenting evidence of sophisticated agricultural societies.

The publication of Dark Emu sparked significant debate across media, academic, and political spheres, placing considerable pressure on Pascoe and his family, and even drawing scrutiny to his heritage. “White people are far more interested in Aboriginal genealogy than Aboriginal people are,” Pascoe notes with a sigh. “We don’t ask Irishmen to do a blood test before they have a beer on St Patrick’s Day, but they insist on measuring our underpants. And it’s really frustrating.””

Filmmaker Captures Farm’s Genesis

Filmmaker Grace McKenzie’s new documentary, Yumburra, offers an intimate look at Pascoe’s endeavor. The verité-style film, a highlight of the Sydney Film Festival, chronicles the establishment of the farm of the same name. McKenzie aimed to showcase the natural beauty of the region and Pascoe’s profound connection to Country.

Yumburra, a Yuin word for black duck, also explores the development of Black Duck Foods, an Indigenous-run enterprise focused on organic production using ancient farming methods detailed in Pascoe’s book. McKenzie was initially drawn to the project after reading about Pascoe’s experiments with traditional grains.

“Back in 2018, I came across the book, and there was a little blurb that said he was trialling growing old grains at the farm,” McKenzie recalls. “So I emailed him and asked, ‘Could I maybe come and see about making a film?'”

Challenges and Perseverance

Given the controversy surrounding Dark Emu, Pascoe’s initial reaction to McKenzie’s email was one of caution. “Delete,” he says wryly. “I was snowed under and was feeling oppressed.” It took seven years for Pascoe to agree to the documentary, a period marked by significant events including the devastating Black Summer bushfires and the global pandemic.

“Circumstances took over,” Pascoe explains. “That and the far-right newspapers having a field day.” McKenzie, undeterred, presented her previous nature-focused documentaries, Audrey of the Alps and In the Land of Wolves, as evidence of her suitability for the project.

“Grace sent me a couple of her atmospheric films about farms, with a lot of clinking milk buckets and old hands operating machinery,” Pascoe comments. “So I thought, yeah, I can fit in there.” McKenzie made approximately 30 visits to the farm over seven years, inspired by Pascoe’s dedication and unique perspectives.

“He said to me, pretty early on, ‘I’m not a farmer, I’m a writer.’ So I was just trying to unravel his story and was mesmerised by the landscape,” McKenzie says. Capturing life as it unfolded proved challenging, with McKenzie often having to wait for significant moments to occur.

Meanwhile, the farm required constant attention. “We had to replace all the fences and were building accommodation units,” Pascoe recalls. “There was always stuff happening, including really important cultural stuff that we were negotiating, so we didn’t always have the time for Grace.” Pascoe also acknowledges a pervasive wariness among Indigenous communities regarding cameras.

“Aboriginal people don’t like having cameras pointed at them,” he states. “There’s 230 years of suspicion associated with that, and it’s understandable that some people don’t drop their guard at all.” He credits McKenzie’s “good nature” for helping him to feel comfortable.

Truth-Telling and Future Aspirations

McKenzie began filming Yumburra when her daughter was three months old; the film is now set to premiere at the Sydney Film Festival. She expresses a mix of excitement and nervousness about sharing the documentary.

Pascoe views the film as a crucial platform for communicating vital messages. “Not just about the food and regenerative, sustainable farming, but also for the Aboriginal community,” he emphasizes. “We can do this. We can design a business based on cultural values and be successful.”

The project faced financial constraints, but in the past six months, the farm has been transferred to the local Indigenous community, fulfilling Pascoe’s long-held ambition. He is content to step back, acknowledging the passage of time and his changing physical capabilities.

“I’m seven years older than when the film started, and at the end of your life, seven years is a long time,” Pascoe reflects. “I’m not as physically capable anymore, so I’m happy to be circumspect with my energies. You do start looking at the finishing line and that tape wavering in the breeze. It’s a different part of life. There are a lot of thorns in it, but there are also a lot of grace notes.”

Pascoe believes McKenzie’s documentary addresses the questions many Australians seek answers to. “She was asking the questions Australians want answered,” he says. “Aboriginal people are sick of answering them, but we need to do this as a country. It’s bloody obvious that we need to have this truth-telling. Yumburra’s part of that.” Yumburra is screening at the Sydney Film Festival.