Floodlands Review – A poignant portrait of Lismore and its people | Australian movie

HA sense of renewal and renewal are central themes of this elegantly crafted and emotionally layered documentary about the New South Wales town of Lismore, and the devastating floods that hit the region in 2022. It is a film that provokes thought and contemplation rather than shock or sadness, and entrusts the audience with something they hold dear. Director Jordan Giusti does a good job of pairing people and place, coiling them together like a double helix, realizing that locations don’t mean much without the stories of those who inhabit them.

We meet several townspeople, including Ellie and Jess, who met after the floods and – as they put it – “fall in love instantly.” “If the floods had not happened, this would never have happened,” Eli says. It’s a beautiful example of agony and prosperity, a phrase often cited in discussions of the climate crisis that speaks to joy as an adaptive strategy and the potential for accelerating social and cultural connections during catastrophic times — all of which the film embodies.

Community resilience is also key, as embodied in the actions of the film’s subjects. Along with Ellie and Jess, there is Harper, a close friend of Ellie, who became a social justice activist after the floods, and Dr. Caroline Atkinson, a Bundjalung Weiman woman who specializes in trauma therapy and founded the Northern Rivers Community Healing Centre, which supports First Nations people affected by the floods.

Floodland weaves their stories together in ways that feel fluid and expansive—almost like a body of water, dividing and flowing in different directions but still moving cohesively. There are times when the film’s structure feels a bit skewed and loose, though I wouldn’t want it any other way: this organic, earthy quality is a big part of its appeal, as it ebbs and gathers with a rhythm that feels instinctive. The film reveals a lot, including the city’s history, the treatment of indigenous people in the area, and, in short, disaster capitalism.

The Floodland begins in the lush wilderness around Lismore, which certainly looks beautiful – vibrant greens, bright skies and gently undulating waterways. We soon hear Eli discussing his love of the city and how he “always wanted to be close to it.” We know that he fulfilled his dream of homeownership, purchasing a “dirt house” located nine meters above the river level, built of course with the understanding that this was a flood-prone area.

Floods, Eli explains, are a way of life here: “Just move the washing machine upstairs, stock up on food and beer, and everything will be fine.” But then we see visions of severe thunderstorms hitting the area in February 2022, the winds blowing huge palm trees around like paper props. An evacuation order was issued, and then an unprecedented disaster occurred, with flooding reaching record levels of 14.4 metres.

Giusti delivers stunning footage, both from high in the air and close to the ground, of what happened to the city, almost like an apocalyptic thriller. Most buildings were flooded, forcing residents to take refuge on the roofs of their homes.

We return to Eli’s house, which has been completely destroyed, and visit the streets strewn with debris, with the locals wasting no time cleaning up and rebuilding. This was certainly a sad process, steeped in a sense of loss, but it was also undertaken with a view to the future – perhaps to brighter pastures; Of new hopes and possibilities. Floodland is equal parts human and environment: a vivid portrait of the landscape and the different lives that shaped it.