There comes a point in Boy Swallows Universe – Netflix’s splashy adaptation of Trent Dalton‘s semi-autobiographical novel of the same name – where you beg for the creators to let the show’s lead feature, 13-year-old Eli Bell (a standout Felix Cameron), earn a moment to catch his breath. Sure, it’d let us as viewers do the same, but the youngster suffers an inordinate amount of tragedy that it hardly seems fair. But then, that’s the mentality of Dalton’s book, a tonally wild, as-uplifting-as-it-is-harrowing adventure that speaks to the unpredictability of life; albeit with a serious case of elevation throughout to drive such home.
Written for the screen by John Collee (who has writing credits on Happy Feet and Hotel Mumbai to his name, as well as being the story consultant to the forthcoming Mad Max prequel Furiosa), Boy Swallows Universe centres around Brisbane in the mid-to-late 1980s, where young Eli, his mute brother, Gus (Lee Tiger Halley), mother, Frankie (Phoebe Tonkin, divine), and stepdad, Lyle (Travis Fimmel), are barely surviving on the edge of poverty. Frankie is a recovering heroin addict, thanks to the support of Lyle, but him dealing on the (not-so) downlow isn’t exactly helping matters, even though it is affording the household the essentials to get by.
All it really does though is pique Eli’s interest, leading the young tyke to precociously charm his way into Lyle’s wheelings and dealings, which, as we can already suspect, won’t end well for anyone involved; and given that early sequences in the series showcase Eli’s naïve bravery and ability to take a literal caning, it’s not entirely surprising he ends up learning the violent consequences of his actions. On the note of the show’s depictions of violence, some viewers may not be prepared for the brutal temperament Boy Swallows Universe adheres to. It earns points for refusing to sugarcoat such actions, but anyone averse to domestic abuse and body mutilation may best be on guard when the show starts streaming from January 11th.
As much as the show proves hard viewing at times, whenever it evokes a feeling of such series’ as Shameless, with its dysfunctional family dynamic, or even Spotlight, as Eli’s interest in journalism takes formation, with the eventual involvement of such shady figures as Tytus Broz (Anthony LaPaglia, enjoying the camp sensibilities of his Colonel Sanders-esque villain) and Ivan Kroll (an easily unnerving Christopher James Baker) earning serious narrative mileage, there’s an inherent sweetness that brings the show back to its ground. And a lot of that stems from the bond between Eli (who is also portrayed by Zac Burgess in the character’s older teen years) and Gus, and their relationships with their father figures, the aforementioned Lyle and their biological father, Robert (Simon Baker).
Robert earns prominence in the latter half of the series. When Lyle’s drug-dealing lands him in expected hot water and Frankie is sent to prison, off the account of taking responsibility for certain actions beyond her control, Eli and Gus are shipped to their dad’s, and his blend of alcoholism and agoraphobia means the two boys are tasked with the parenting. It’s not exactly a dynamic untapped, but Robert’s fear of leaving his own environment puts the boys’ visitations with their mother at risk, and Eli, seemingly unable to keep his head down for his own good, investigating Lyle’s disappearance only adds further, unwanted attention. If Cameron wasn’t so commanding as the young Eli he’d easily border on insufferability, but his easy charm makes us root for him with every action – even when he completely oversteps and much of his punishment is self-inflicted.
That easy charm is also expressed through the performances of Baker and Fimmel. Both Robert and Lyle are immensely flawed men, and as much as they ruin the well-being of Eli and Gus with their actions, they hold a pure love for the boys that we cant help but embrace their overt blemishes. It’s easy to see why Frankie fell for their individual charms, beyond the fact that they look like Simon Baker and Travis Fimmel. And on the mention of Frankie, what so easily could have been a woman painted as a perennial victim, Tonkin infuses her with a bravery that speaks to her forever optimism in finding a light for herself and her boys in the darkest of places. She doesn’t always make the best decisions, but we understand every one of her actions.
Given from where the show starts to where it ends, Boy Swallows Universe truly takes the audience on the wildest of rides. There’s a sense of magic throughout as much as there is the macabre, and whilst the consistent tonal shifts may jar some viewers, there’s always something of interest within each scene that it’s difficult to dismiss to Collee’s interpretation of Dalton’s intimately extravagant experience.
THREE AND A HALF STARS (OUT OF FIVE)
All 7 episodes of Boy Swallows Universe are streaming on Netflix from January 11th, 2024.
