Netflix’s ‘Territory’ review: ‘Yellowstone’ meets ‘Succession’ in the Australian outback
Directed by Greg Maclean, Netflix’s ‘Territory’ is ‘Yellowstone’ meets ‘Succession’ on an Australian outback cattle station. TV review.
Netflix‘s Territory provides an apt metaphor for itself during its first episode, as cold-eyed scavengers circle injured prey. Though their victim fights for survival, the opportunistic carnivores stand poised to finish it off and fill their bellies from its carcass.
Having seen two episodes of Netflix’s new Australian series, it’s too early to say whether Territory‘s Marianne Station will emerge unscathed from the power struggles and predators that threaten it. No matter how it ends, it could easily get just as bloody. Yet beyond the fighting and scheming, at its true core, Territory is the universal tale of a stressed out mum who has to do everything around this place.
What is Netflix’s Territory about?
Credit: Netflix
The quickest way to describe Territory is as Yellowstone crossed with Succession in the Australian outback. Directed by Wolf Creek‘s Greg McLean and filmed on location in the Northern Territory, the six-episode series focuses on the Lawson family, fifth-generation ranchers who own and run an enormous cattle station about the size of Belgium, the fictional Marianne Station. However, you can’t be a king without others coveting your crown.
When the ranch’s line of succession is unexpectedly thrown into question, the Lawsons begin jostling for position. Rival ranchers and wealthy mining magnates are also moving in on the ranch, sensing weakness and discord amongst the ruling family. Then there’s the Traditional Owners of the land, Australia’s Aboriginal people, who have a stake in the game as well.
Between the big ranching business, high stakes family drama, internal and external power struggles, and the issue of inheritance, comparisons with Paramount’s Yellowstone and HBO’s Succession are both inevitable and justified. However, Territory does appear closer to the former’s Western melodrama than the latter’s corporate absurdity. While there is an occasional spark of wry Australian humour courtesy of Emily Lawson’s (Anna Torv) brother Hank (Dan Wyllie), the show largely plays it straight, focusing on drama and violence. This seems a shame, as these scant moments add a refreshing levity to the series that differentiates it from the glut of self-serious television.
Instead, Territory works to distinguish itself by embracing its Australian nature, emphasising wide landscapes of red dirt, dangerous wildlife, and leaning heavily into the local culture and vernacular. This naturally means that there are elements in Territory which a non-Australian audience may not catch, such as certain nuances regarding language or Indigenous land rights. You’ll probably want to switch on subtitles if you’re at all concerned about deciphering Australian accents as well. Even so, such details don’t bar understanding of the series’ overarching story. There are enough context clues for non-Australian viewers, who could even learn some local slang while they’re at it.
And regardless of language, everyone can recognise a toxic, dysfunctional family.
Who are the Lawson family in Netflix’s Territory?
Credit: Netflix
While Territory‘s Lawsons are technically a family, there’s little familial love to go around. Patriarch Colin (Robert Taylor) rules and overrules Marianne Station and everyone on it, viewing his relatives as disappointing, scheming wretches who cannot be trusted with the family legacy. In Colin’s eyes, the only other competent Lawson is his youngest son Daniel (Jake Ryan).
Colin’s eldest son Graham (Michael Dorman) is an alcoholic, having turned to drink after the death of his first wife. The couple’s son Marshall (Sam Corlett) is estranged from the family, preferring to spend his time in the company of less law-abiding folk. Graham’s second wife Emily (Torv) comes from a family whose habit of stealing livestock is widely known. Finally, Graham and Emily’s daughter Susie (Philippa Northeast) has dropped out of university and is a woman — a fact which prompts Colin to dismiss her as heir to Marianne Station despite her enthusiasm for running the ranch.
Though the younger generation are slightly more modern, the Lawsons in general are tough, rough people who aren’t given to softer expressions of emotion. No tears are shed despite close personal loss marking Territory‘s first episode, as emotional repression and bullheaded pride lead the Lawsons to largely deal with their feelings via alcohol, fistfights, and stone-faced gruffness. Self-serving callousness is far more common here than consideration. In the type of place where people will start a bidding war at a funeral, the Aussie concept of mateship apparently remains a mere concept in Territory.
With such scant affection between most of the Lawson family, some of whom are so severely flawed as to be unsympathetic, it feels inevitable and perhaps for the best that this Australian cattle dynasty falls apart.
The paradox of tradition in Territory
Credit: Netflix
Despite this, the Lawsons continue to fight for Marianne Station’s survival, forced to follow a patriarch driven by pride, legacy, and tradition. Yet stubborn loyalty to tradition is also their largest obstacle to securing the ranch’s future, with Colin unreasonably basing decisions on pride rather than viability. He may want to keep the Lawson men in positions of authority, but the women are undoubtedly the more competent members of the family.
Then there is the omnipresent, unspoken issue of the Lawson family’s claim to the land being based on European colonisation. Indigenous ownership is widely recognised in Australia, with an acknowledgement of country typically delivered when opening events. With tradition looming so large in Territory, it would be bizarre if the series didn’t include the Traditional Owners of the land.
Aboriginal stockman Nolan Brannock (Clarence Ryan) is one of Territory‘s most reasonable characters, and is largely uninvolved with the Lawson’s squabbling and posturing. Unfortunately, he is still subject to the family’s dominance, which directly impacts his personal aspirations. Nolan straddles two worlds and struggles to find appreciation in either, navigating business deals while trying to act for his Indigenous community, and working to build his own operation rather than keep an inherited castle from collapsing. It’s a notable contrast to the Lawsons, whose involvement in their local rancher’s association is explicitly self-interested.
The Lawsons claim Marrianne Station’s land as theirs because it was their father’s, and his father’s, and his father’s. Yet if this is the metric by which we measure ownership, one could argue that Nolan and Indigenous elder Uncle Bryce (Hamilton Morris) have an even stronger claim.
Anna Torv plays the ranch mum to everyone in Territory
Credit: Netflix
Though such issues enrich Territory‘s world, the series’ focus is on the Lawsons, and primarily on Emily. Leading a strong Australian ensemble cast, Torv embodies a woman whose life has been a fight full of hard work, stress, and ethical compromises. While Colin holds ultimate authority at Marianne Station, it seems as though Emily is the only one actively working to keep it afloat (and keep the audience from actively cheering for the Lawson family’s decline).
A perpetually tense, no-nonsense disciplinarian who favours practicality over sentimentality, it’s easy to see Emily as the latest in a long line of women who must be smarter and sharper than the lacklustre men who heavily influence their lives. Emily is forced to act as the overburdened, underappreciated ranch mum in the absence of other reasonable adults, managing her milquetoast husband, navigating her hostile and misogynistic father-in-law, being a literal mother to Suzie and stepmother to Marshall, and taking a physical role in running the station.
Yet despite her competence, Emily’s claim on Marianne Station is the weakest as the only family member who isn’t a Lawson by blood. Her shrewd capability and acumen do make viewers want her to succeed. Even so, Territory makes clear that anyone who wants a happy ending will have to fight for it, perhaps even literally. Emily would probably be much happier if she gave up on the station, left her doleful husband, and absconded to somewhere less inhospitable in every sense.
It isn’t just Australia’s animals that can kill you in Territory
Credit: Netflix
Australia is famous for having a plethora of dangers that can kill you, a reputation that Territory leans into from the outset. The show quickly makes clear that it isn’t adverse to Game of Thrones-style nightmare-fuel endings in a confronting scene early on, though such brutality is infrequent and softened by Territory‘s refusal to relish in gore even where it would be appropriate. Still, it’s a clear signpost that Territory‘s violence will extend far beyond verbal threats.
This promise is made all the clearer through the presence of guns. Seeing Territory‘s characters pull guns on each other feels natural to the Western genre, and many viewers likely won’t bat an eye at such lawlessness, but it was jarring to me as an Australian. Gun violence isn’t a concern in Australian cities due to the country’s strict gun control policies. Even so, firearms are much more common among farmers protecting their livestock from predators, meaning Territory‘s characters certainly have access to such weapons, and can easily turn them on each other.
Territory‘s early episodes largely stick to good old fashioned fistfights as per Australian custom. Even so, guns remain as a looming promise of inevitable violence. They’re a reminder that the situation can always get worse — and it probably will.
Territory marks its own
Credit: Netflix
Territory aspires to be the next global television sensation, making a mark not just within Australia but beyond. In this regard, its obvious similarities to popular U.S. shows are both a blessing and a curse. If you enjoyed Yellowstone or the family drama of Succession, you may be more likely to give Territory a try. Alternatively, you may be less likely to give it a try having already had Yellowstone at home.
Contending with such titles, Territory puts in the effort to set itself apart by embracing its distinctly Australian characteristics, making it different enough to be intriguing while still familiar enough to be comfortable. This Australian flair keeps Territory engaging even through a few predictable or underbaked plot points, luring viewers with a fresher take on well-known tropes — one sprinkled with red dust, dropped Ls, and swarming with crocodiles.
Territory rides onto Netflix Oct. 24.