The first thing that pulls you towards the 2013 mini-series Top of the Lake, by Oscar-winning writer and director Jane Campion and Gerard Lee, is the stunning, serene, almost otherworldly scenery of South New Zealand. What will keep you hooked is the dark unrest and deep-seated pain on which this calm paradise sits. The second season of the series is now in production, and stars Nicole Kidman alongside the original heroine Elisabeth Moss. The first season is available in full on YouTube.
Campion was the first woman to win a Palme d’Or at the Cannes Film Festival for The Piano (1993). In a predominantly male arena of filmmakers and awards festivals designed to celebrate them, Campion provides social context and a voice to the woman who refuses to be defined by established narratives. A woman behind a camera does not automatically warrant a female narrative, of course, but stems from a deep understanding and rejection of the position women are often relegated to in storytelling, dialogue, and even in the way the camera plays with the women on screen.
Campion’s films, including An Angel at My Table (1990), a biography of New Zealand writer Janet Frame, and In the Cut (2003), about the relationship between a teacher and a police officer, are centered on female subjectivity. As is Top of the Lake, which focuses on a woman in a viciously male setting.
Elisabeth Moss, most famously known for her flawless portrayal of Peggy Olson in Mad Men, plays detective Robin Griffin, who while on a visit home to see her sick mother gets involved in a case that forces her to face the inescapable demons of her past.
Tui Mitcham (Jacqueline Joe), the 12-year-old daughter of the local drug kingpin Matt Mitcham (Peter Mullan), is found standing in the middle of the lake one day. She is pregnant, and when asked for the name of the father, she simply writes “No one” on a piece of paper. She then goes missing, and takes a gun with her.
The six-part mini-series plays out in the centre of a male-centric and ruthlessly misogynistic community in the fictional town of Laketop (shot mostly in Glenorchy and Queenstown). Robin’s colleagues are condescending towards her and insensitive to Tui’s case. Matt lives with his brutish sons and barking dogs in a big house surrounded by barbed wire. On a tract of land called Paradise, a group of women make their home in shipping containers, looking for peace and respite from their dysfunctional lives. They are led by an enigmatic guru, GJ (played remarkably by Holly Hunter). The women are often out of place in a landscape that is numbingly beautiful, and they challenge and baffle the gun-toting, drug-snorting, beer-chugging brutes who inhabit the town.
The show is unapologetic in its depiction of rape culture. The isolated idyllic scenery transforms into an emotionally disorienting narrative about unchecked and uncorrected crimes. Moss is outstanding as Griffin, who relentlessly looks for Tui even as she grapples with incidents from her past that tie her to this picturesque yet pitiless town.
With GJ, Robin and Tui, Top of the Lake puts women at the forefront in a debate about sexual violence. Through the male characters, the series subtly and effectively exposes their sense of entitlement and the power structures that uphold this attitude.
The dialogue is measured and never preachy or overwhelming. Events unfold and secrets are unearthed without breaking the peace that hides the corruption and depravity of Laketop.
