The Valley review: a serene documentary on the beauty of rural living

The Valley is not a traditional documentary. While it maintains a focus on character-driven stories, director Ian Darling makes a concerted choice to present life as it is – not with a guiding commentary or a cohesive, linear narrative, but as a day-to-day journey filled with small, quiet moments.

Focused on the people living and working in Kangaroo Valley, New South Wales, The Valley is more like a series of photographic vignettes, all of which reveal so much about rural living, the responsibilities of work and how serenity defines individual lives.

You won’t find much dialogue here – only what comes naturally and quietly in moments where the people of Kangaroo Valley come together, or when clucky animals need comforting.

Without this guide, you’ll be asked to sit back and watch, absorbing the sights and sounds of Kangaroo Valley as a passive observer, but one who is wholly transported into the region by artful, slow moving and sharply observed shots.

The Valley’s quietness reveals great depth

What’s most impactful is The Valley‘s deliberate fusion of drone footage and more intimate character close-ups. In sweeping aerial shots, you’ll see the vastness of Kangaroo Valley and its great beauty. You’ll see the valley filling up with fog, to the point where the roads disappear into a great, blank whiteness. You’ll see towering, ancient trees and the view up the riverbank.

You’ll see cars making their winding way into the valley and across the historic Hampden Bridge.

It gives the impression that Kangaroo Valley is enormous – a dazzling, inspiring region filled with all sorts of natural beauty to be entranced by.

Then, the documentary will switch to a quieter, smaller moment, as the local baker prepares her bread at 2:50am, or as the local post office worker prepares parcels for delivery, or as an older farmer sits on his porch, watching the day pass.

It’s a lovely juxtaposition, inviting viewers to see the sweeping nature of Kangaroo Valley in contrast to the smaller, people-driven moments that define each and every day. It is a very large world after all, and humans are all just small, moving parts of it.

As Darling seems to say, there is equal beauty in the natural and real worlds. Scale does not define the importance of daily living.

Each vignette in The Valley brims with meaning

With a three hour runtime, The Valley allows plenty of room for this true meaning to blossom.

You see the same people moving through their lives at different intervals – preparing for work, relaxing at the pub, attending a play, participating in a show. Some flit in and out of the narrative, but all leave their mark.

It’s particular enamouring to see the local Australia Post office worker, Katrina Thomas, going about her daily tasks – sorting through each individual parcel and letter, and attending to the needs of customers. She potters around, shares light-hearted banter with her visitors, and puzzles through small-scale challenges, like fitting a horse’s saddle into a feed bag for postage.

Darling presents Thomas in a warm, friendly light, showing her daily challenges as they are – quiet, funny and occasionally simple, with room for the audience to be transported directly into her world.

There’s also the story of council worker Jacqualine Lenz, whose tasks include mowing lawns, cleaning public facilities, and helping to maintain the local showground. Lenz is a warm light in the documentary, sharing her love for her job, and her achievement of being the longest-served female council staff member, with over 37 years in the job.

These are small moments, made large in the eye of the camera.

In one tender, funny moment, policeman Todd Cremer, Senior Constable, reveals that in a previous position, he was filling out his work notebook at a rapid pace, going through multiple notebooks in a month. He remarks to one local, with a laugh, that he’s barely filled out a single notebook since taking a position in Kangaroo Valley.

In other vignettes, you see the bonding of a young team of male athletes, led by Coach Hayes. They quietly meditate by the banks of the local river, and enter the water together, as a team.

You see an older man, Peter Gerrey, living alongside his dog, before he passes away. Viewers are also invited to a funeral, with the camera taking a distant, respectful approach.

Ian Darling’s film is defined by this aspect of respect. The Valley does not make a particular comment on any of the people living within Kangaroo Valley. It lets them live and breath, and go about their daily lives, with artfully-shot scenes allowing them to become fully-rounded and dimensional characters to viewers.

This is what makes The Valley so artful and inspiring.

It’s a slower-paced, observant documentary that demands your attention, even with a truncated runtime. It presents the people of Kangaroo Valley as being small parts of a wider community, with real beauty surrounding them, and their daily interactions. Their bond is what drives interest and intrigue as scenes play out – and what evokes a slow-growing yearning for similar peace, as the documentary unfolds.

Kangaroo Valley is a beautiful region. The Valley is a wonderful, considered homage to the place and its people.

The Valley screened as part of Sydney Film Festival 2026. The festival continues until 14 June.

Discover more screen, games & arts news and reviews on ScreenHub and ArtsHub. Sign up for our free ArtsHub and ScreenHub newsletters.