Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander readers are advised that this review and the film it discusses may contain names, voices, and images of people who have passed away. The content may also include themes that could be distressing to some audiences.
Lilithia Reviews acknowledges the Traditional Custodians of the lands on which we work and live. We pay our respects to Elders past, present, and emerging, and recognise their enduring connection to land, waters, culture, and community.
We honour and value the rich traditions of storytelling and the cultural heritage of Indigenous communities across Australia.
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In the warm glow of Sydney Town Hall, lit by the rainbow hues of Vivid, I found myself seated among a diverse crowd, each of us waiting to witness something deeply personal. Yurlu | Country is more than a documentary; it’s a sacred act of storytelling. It shares the journey of Banjima Elder Maitland Parker, a proud man whose fight to protect his Country and culture runs parallel to his personal battle with mesothelioma, a cancer caused by asbestos exposure. Despite never working in a mine, he paid the ultimate price for decisions made far from home.
Before the first frame even appeared on screen, we were honoured with a heartfelt Welcome to Country by a local Elder. It grounded us. Reminded us that this was not just an event, but a shared moment to remember. Director Yaara Bou Melhem took the stage next, generously sharing her reflections on the process of making the film. Her words set the tone for what was to come; raw, respectful, and unflinching.
Among the audience were Maitland’s family, members of the film’s production team, and key figures from the decades long legal battle for justice in Wittenoom. Some of the same lawyers who began this work in 1984 continue the fight today, striving to hold the Western Australian government accountable for the remediation that still hasn’t arrived.
Yurlu | Country doesn’t shy away from hard truths. It confronts the blatant racism broadcast to the nation less than half a century ago and it compels us to see the ongoing consequences of that racism, not as relics of the past, but as living, breathing wounds still felt by our communities. For those who think these issues are behind us, this film is a sobering reminder that they are not.
The landscape shown, riddled with black ravines and hollowed out chasms, is more than a visual metaphor. It mirrors the deep fracture between Indigenous peoples and the Country we belong to. And yet, amidst that devastation, there is dignity. Maitland’s story is not told with rage, but with grief. And through that grief, power.
What stuck out to me the most was the level of respect woven throughout the film. Not just for Country, but for everyone involved, even the mining companies whose actions have left generations reeling. This is not a documentary filled with finger-pointing. It’s a space for truth-telling. It honours the full weight of what has happened, and it does so with grace and tact.
Yurlu | Country unflinchingly calls out the inaction of the Western Australian government. As of June 2025, no tangible steps have been taken to remediate Wittenoom and its surrounding areas. For us as Indigenous people, Country isn’t just the land we live on, it’s part of who we are. When Country is sick, we are too.
After the screening, Yaara returned to the stage for a Q&A. The room was heavy with emotion. Many of us cried, not just for Maitland, but for our own families, our Country, our own losses. The impact of this film was undeniable. It reached into the deepest parts of us.
Yurlu | Country is soulful, necessary, and unrelenting. It refuses to let Maitland’s life and legacy become another statistic. It reminds us of the strength and love he had for his Mob and for Country. As an Indigenous Australian, the growing disconnect between community and Country is something that I feel every day. But this film rekindles something. It reconnects us to what matters and reignites us to take action to save future generations.
Yurlu | Country isn’t just a documentary; it’s a call to action, a plea for justice, and a testament to the enduring spirit of those who continue to protect Country, even in the face of unimaginable loss.
Rest in power, Maitland Parker.
Yurlu | Country is playing as part of the 2025 Sydney Film Festival. For more information, ticketing and to learn more about Maitland’s story and ongoing efforts to heal Banjima Country, please visit:
https://yurlucountry.com
https://www.sff.org.au/program/event/yurlu-country