by Anne Lucas

Treated with skill and sensitivity by the actors and director Colin Budd, this two-handed scene is an excellent example of what good writing can achieve in a short space of time. There is nothing superfluous here, no tricky camera shots or grand, dramatic statements. Rather it is Joylene’s simple, straightforward manner and her neat and economical movements about the kitchen that are what impresses both Clive and the viewer with her innate decency and good sense. At the same time the viewer is allowed to see that Clive, in listening so well and responding with genuine intuition, is a man who has a lot more to offer a woman than anyone, including himself, understands.

Writer Denise Morgan was used to creating strong female characters having honed her skills as one of the original and most prolific writers on Prisoner (1979–86). Here she has tapped into the myth of the fresh start so many people hoped to find in the outback. Like all such myths it must have a strong basis in truth, for it persists today, despite the insular attitudes so often attributed to these isolated communities. Joylene’s speech asserting her right to do whatever she can to ensure a better future for her unborn child is an actor’s gift and thankfully Rowena Mohr handles it with just the right degree of emphasis and no histrionics. Peter Curtin’s look of wonder that signals the moment Clive falls in love is an acting lesson in itself. With two such actors and writing like this, it is a pity that a little more time and space could not be found in the episode to develop this story in greater depth.