Sifting the truth from the myth of Harry Lasseter and his fabled reef of gold is like lassoing a shadow. A 20th century Burke & Wills story of expiration in the thrall of exploration the tale has endured and grown.
Like so many others over the years, director Luke Walker became fascinated by the story of Harold Lasseter, whose body was found after perishing in Central Australia’s deserts in 1930.
In making Lasseter’s Bones (G) Walker discovered Lasseter’s 85-year-old son Bob still wandering the desert after 50 years, on a quixotic mission to discover the gold that killed his father and destroyed his childhood. As a result, Walker found himself teaming up with Bob Lasseter on a quest to solve the many riddles his father left behind
Walker’s journey took three years, leading him across six states and deep into the heart of Australia.
It’s a fascinating study of family obsession, a cinematic love child of Picnic at Hanging Rock and The Treasure of Sierra Madre, where the skeletons in the desert may be more like skeletons in the closet.
Prospecting the past, Walker discovers a number of narrative nuggets in the alluvial plane of a life with more layers than a lasagne.
Inventor, explorer, entrepreneur, charlatan- any one of these applets could describe the mercurial and mysterious Lasseter whose claim to a dead heart El Dorado is either a last laugh by a larrikin leg puller or a last ditch con? Did he really come to grief searching for the reef or was it an elaborate plan to disappear and start a new life in America? Far sighted futurist or flim flam man, Lassiter is a fabulous part of our folk-lore and Walker’s splendid documentary deserves to be seen on the big screen.