Storm Boy (1976) – A Quiet Classic of Australian Cinema.
- Groote Broadcasting

- Oct 1
- 2 min read
Henri Safran’s Storm Boy is one of those rare films that lingers long after the credits roll, not because of grand spectacle but because of its quiet humanity. Adapted from Colin Thiele’s beloved novel, the 1976 film captures the raw beauty of South Australia’s Coorong and distils it into a story of childhood, friendship, and loss.
At its heart is the relationship between young Mike, nicknamed “Storm Boy” (Greg Rowe), and the pelican he rescues and raises, Mr Percival. Their bond — tender, playful, and deeply moving — anchors the film, but Storm Boy is more than just a tale of a boy and his bird. It’s about growing up on the margins of society, living with his reclusive father (“Hideaway Tom,” played by Peter Cummins), and discovering connection through the unlikely friendship of Fingerbone Bill (David Gulpilil).
Gulpilil’s performance is extraordinary. With his quiet wisdom and natural charisma, he elevates the film into something timeless, offering not just guidance to Storm Boy but also embodying the deep spiritual connection of Aboriginal people to land and sea. In contrast, Cummins portrays a man broken by isolation, a father learning — painfully and reluctantly — how to open himself to love again.
Visually, the film is breathtaking. Cinematographer Geoff Burton uses the windswept beaches, shifting dunes, and wide skies of the Coorong as more than just scenery; the landscape becomes a living force, at once harsh and nurturing. The stillness of the natural world is juxtaposed with the innocence of childhood, reminding us of the fragility of both.
What makes Storm Boy endure nearly 50 years later is its restraint. It resists the temptation to over-sentimentalise, letting silence, gesture, and landscape carry the emotion. The final act, with its heartbreaking farewell to Mr Percival, remains one of Australian cinema’s most poignant sequences — a lesson in love, loss, and the inevitability of change.
If some audiences today find the pacing slow by modern standards, that is precisely its strength: Storm Boy asks us to move at the rhythm of nature and childhood. It is cinema that breathes, cinema that allows space for emotion to unfold.
A landmark of Australian film, Storm Boy is a deeply human story that captures the magic of childhood, the beauty of the Coorong, and the quiet strength of connection across people, culture, and nature.




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