There’s a point in life when the tide quietly turns.
You spend decades keeping the kids afloat – feeding, driving, funding, advising, occasionally rescuing – and then, one day, you notice they’re steering the boat. That’s the space Australian screen legend Bryan Brown finds himself exploring in The Travellers, the new Bruce Beresford film opening in cinemas tomorrow (October 9).
“It’s about family to start with,” Brown says, with that gravelly voice that could sand a cricket bat. “At one stage you’re looking after your children, and then it seems only five minutes later, your children are starting to look after you. It’s that progression through life.”
The film centres on Stephen Seary (Luke Bracey), a successful stage designer who comes home to farewell his dying mum and ends up knee-deep in family drama, memory, and unfinished business. Brown plays Fred, the father who’s lived long enough to have lost both his wife and a good portion of his independence.
“This is definitely the oldest character I’ve ever played,” Brown says. “He’s probably older than me. I’m playing someone who’s less capable than I am at the moment. But I see him as real, and as a place that I could go to.”
Fred’s world is smaller now – confined to the house, the town, the past. His son’s world is global, digital, urgent. Between them lies that tricky generational trench we all fall into eventually: the moment the children need to make the decisions, and the parents need to accept them.
Beresford’s film treats that handover with humour and heart. There’s no melodrama, no speeches about mortality. Just the ordinary business of family life – resentments, jokes, affection, and the occasional battle over car keys.
“Fred’s a bloke who’s trying to ignore things,” Brown says. “He’s confronted by his past life and what his wife meant to him. I enjoyed those scenes, because they make you think about what’s important, and what happens when you start losing the people who held you together.”
Brown, 78, isn’t losing much himself. He’s fit, sharp, busy, and probably more productive now than he was at 40.
“I exercise every morning,” he says. “But I wish someone had told me earlier that my knees were going to give me trouble. They should pull everyone in at 40 and say, ‘Start working on your legs – everything in life is about getting around.’”
It’s pure Bryan Brown – practical, funny, no nonsense. He’s still the bloke from Breaker Morant, The Thorn Birds, and Two Hands, but now with a little more reflection in the mix.
“I’ve always been an optimistic fella,” he says. “I’ve always been bloody grateful for all the things I’ve been given. My mother never whinged, so I guess I grew up surrounded by optimism. Doesn’t mean I don’t deal with stuff and wonder about stuff, but I figure there’s always a spark of light in there – even in the difficult times.”
The Travellers is full of that light. It’s a film that feels lived in – written by Beresford during the COVID lockdowns when everyone was forced to sit still long enough to think about their families. It’s shot in Western Australia’s golden countryside, all big skies and weathered faces, and anchored by performances from Brown, Bracey and Susie Porter as the sister trying to hold it all together.
“It’s a very beautiful movie,” Brown says. “Peter James, our cinematographer, he’s wonderful. Even things we’re used to seeing – parrots, kangaroos – they’re beautifully supported in the movie. It makes you proud to see Australia on screen looking like that.”
It’s also a rare Australian film that tackles ageing head-on, without slipping into cliché.
“We’re living longer,” Brown says. “Our children are seeing us move into quite an elderly age. One minute we’re handling it quite well, and the next minute – physically or mentally – starting to have difficulty. That’s life, isn’t it?”
So what kind of 78-year-old is Bryan Brown? The cranky old bugger railing about bank fees?
He laughs. “Nah. I’m not much of a complainer. I’ve got this movie coming out, a TV series Darby and Joan with Greta Scacchi that’s popular, and my third crime book, The Hidden, is out soon. If you’d told me I’d be writing novels when I turned 70, I’d have said you were mad. But I’ve always found there’s something in front of me. Always something on.”
In the world of The Travellers, that attitude counts for everything. The film’s about acceptance – the passing of time, the changing of roles, and the love that holds families together even when they’re driving each other spare.
For audiences of a certain age, it’ll hit close to home. The doctor appointments, the tough decisions, the fierce independence that refuses to fade. But it’s not grim. It’s funny, warm, and recognisably Australian – the kind of story where people use humour to handle hardship.
“We do that well here,” Brown says. “Humour gets us through.”
At one point in The Travellers, Fred looks out over the wheat fields of Western Australia and says almost nothing – just that look of someone who knows he’s no longer steering the boat. It’s the kind of quiet acting that Brown does best. No tears, no tricks. Just truth.
He’s not slowing down, mind you. “I just walked up a hill to get to this interview,” he says. “Could’ve taken the bus, but I said, ‘No, you’ve gotta walk, mate.’”
That’s Bryan Brown in a nutshell – still moving, still grateful, still walking uphill when he could be sitting down.
And that’s what The Travellers is really about: the journey, the humour, and the grace to let the next generation take the wheel – while you’re still cheeky enough to tell them how to drive.
TOMORROW: Bryan Brown and Bruce Bresford: The last great mates of Australian cinema.