In the 1950s a dam was constructed in Far North Queensland. In the process, the town that had existed there previously was emptied and flooded, remaining beneath the water even today. There is something haunting and unsettling about this idea, and as Myfanwy Jones imagines the story of those who lived in the area as the dam was being built, there is something equally haunting and unsettling about the three generations of men she brings to life.

It’s 1956 and Vincent is the local butcher. Charismatic and a typical man of his times, he appears to have it all: the doting wife, three strapping boys, and a thriving business. Joe is his youngest son and the one he understands the least. Sixty odd years later, Joe has passed away and his son Frank can’t help but wish he had been allowed to understand his own father better. Unlike Vincent or Joe, Frank dotes on his only child and wants nothing more than to see her happy. Unlike Vincent or Joe, Frank has the chance to be content, to have meaningful relationships in his life, and to be a decent parent. It should be a simple choice, but can we ever really leave the past behind, and how much does our family dictate the person we become?

Shifting between a pivotal year for the Herbert family, and a modern-day family wedding held back at the dam, Vincent, Joe and Frank all struggle to overcome their demons, each one suffering their own form of intergenerational trauma and trying to find ways to live with it. As each man’s story progresses, so does a real sense of dread. The family violence is always there, underlying every other scene, never gratuitous, but terrifying all the same. Jones explores with compassion and empathy, and set against the most remarkable scenery, how such a thing can happen, repeatedly, for years on end.