True History of the Kelly Gang

When the discussion of “classic” outlaws/criminals comes into play, especially in the United States, the same names pop up: Al Capone, John Dillinger, Bonnie and Clyde, etc. Even Robin Hood might come up due to his mythical status being kept alive through several film adaptations throughout the last century. These names are usually brought up because they conjure up times and places when the world was young and impressionable in comparison to the present, possibly due to their black-and-white motives (stealing from the rich to give to the poor) or even a specific characteristic of their notoriety (young lovers on the run from the cops). One that’ll rarely ever come up is quite possibly the Australian equivalent: Edward “Ned” Kelly. In terms of notoriety, impact, and romanticization, Ned Kelly is the kind of figure that’ll probably last longer than most of us will live because, similar to the American examples, there is just something still compelling about Kelly’s story more than a century after his death.

Nothing shows that better than Justin Kurzel’s True History of the Kelly Gang, an adaptation of the popular Australian novel than takes a fictional approach to Ned Kelly’s life. The film shows young Ned (Orlando Schwerdt) as he grows into becoming a man, jumping a decade later halfway through the film to show an adult Ned (George MacKay) slowly becoming the infamous bushranger. One of the benefits of being an openly fictional take on Kelly’s life is that the film doesn’t have to put on a self-important facade, pretending as if their version of Ned Kelly is the “true” Ned Kelly. Considering the amount of time that has passed since Ned’s death (and the fact that romanticized versions of him have probably been out there since his own era), using the story to build a much more dynamic version of the infamous outlaw that gives the film more depth than just trying to force as many facts as its runtime can, resulting in a character study that feels equally romanticized as it does stark and surprisingly truthful. In Kurzel’s film, Ned Kelly is not just a revolutionary or a cold-hearted outlaw or a man lying to himself; He’s all of the above.

What gives Kelly’s compelling nature the life it needs is George MacKay’s performance. His interpretation of the mad outlaw is fantastic, bringing a humanity to Kelly that is mesmerizing, frustrating, and tragic. Watching him struggle with his past, trying to become an honest person only for a dysfunctional family and abusive authority to force him into becoming the vicious criminal they both want him to be. MacKay does an incredible job showing his descent, visualizing his madness as if his true nature is trying to kill the outlaw performance like a body killing a virus. In addition, Essie Davis’ performance as Ellen Kelly is great, Charlie Hunnam and Russell Crowe’s small roles give more weight to Ned’s inevitable turn to crime, and Sean Keenan’s few moments with MacKay gives us a glimpse into a friendship that feels like the most authentic Kelly is the entire film.

While the ensemble definitely leads the positives, the film’s directing and cinematography give the film a creative depth I never expected. Director Justin Kurzel is mainly known for his two Michael Fassbender affairs: 2015’s Macbeth and 2016’s Assassin’s Creed. Despite the latter being a massive flop, Kurzel is able to show his talents as a director with True History of the Kelly Gang, assisting in the raw performances as well as the film’s visual style. Speaking of the visuals, Ari Wegner does a phenomenal job of creating incredible visual moments throughout the film. The standouts are absolutely the highly stylized horseback riding sequences at night, turning the moon into a spotlight that follows the characters in a gorgeous and well-composed manner. Wegner definitely uses his talent to turn the mostly desaturated blues into visuals that have no right looking as good as they do, letting colors pop at the best times and taking artistic liberties that result in some moments that are now burned into my brain due to stark color contrasts and an excessive amount of strobe lights.

Unfortunately, despite all of the positives, the pacing from the second act onward feels a tad rushed in places, the use of strobe lights in the film works for most of the scenes used but does get to a point of being very distracting (certainly not epilepsy-friendly towards the end), and certain relationships in the film definitely feel rushed with the one between Ned Kelly and Constable Fitzpatrick (Nicholas Hoult) feeling like the prime example. These two characters go from acquaintances to friends in one scene which is confusing and conflicting, especially with the information we’re given about Ned’s dislike of the local authority. The relationship between Ned and his best friend Joe Byrne feels equally rushed, barely giving them the chance to show how close they are besides one great emotional scene. In terms of the pacing issues, it’s a nitpick but there are scenes mixed throughout the film that are either cut short or feel just long enough to waste time until the next scene.

While my issues with the film keep me from loving the film, True History of the Kelly Gang is a really good, honest film that takes the man Ned Kelly and twists the stories surrounding him to create film that deconstructs the outlaw, using its interpretation to dive deep into a genuinely unique character. The cast is talented, the visuals are surprisingly gorgeous at times, and the story doesn’t shy away from being raw or gory. It’s definitely worth renting for George MacKay’s performance alone. I’d even recommend seeing it in theaters if we weren’t dealing with the pandemic right now. In the end, despite it being just shy of great, True History of the Kelly Gang is a very entertaining film that turns what could’ve been a standard, romanticized take on the outlaw and deconstructs him in a way that I hope future interpretations of “classic” outlaws follow in its footsteps.