MIFF: the power and pain of Left Write Hook
Pain meets Power in Left Write Hook, a stunning and awe-inspiring documentary about loss, trauma, and revival through boxing and poetry, Matthew Parkhill reviews.
Content Warning: This review includes references to child sexual abuse and incest.
Left, Write Hook (2024) is exactly the knockout punch it strives to be.
A dance of poetry and combat, eight women and gender-diverse people train their bodies and minds in an eight-week boxing and writing program that follows them for years.
With a bond formed by tears and haunted memories, they’ll push each other to fight back, express themselves, and conquer and revive their lives.
And their opponents in the ring? Their trauma.
In 2019, Dr Donna Lyon had been boxing for two years and had felt the benefits boxing had on her mental health and healing journey. Deciding she wanted to connect with other survivors, she began the Left Write Hook program out of her local gym, offering an alternate therapy through boxing drills and contemplative writing sessions.
The program was the first of its kind, and with initial success, Dr Lyon invited researchers and psychologists from the University of Melbourne to track the participants’ mental health to groundbreaking results.
Soon after, in 2020, Shannon Owens was invited by Dr Lyon to produce a film about the program while the writings of the group were produced into a book. As the documentary took shape, so did the program, which expanded to numerous other locations.
The documentary begins with Lyon narrating her journey of self-revival and perseverance while on a run. From the first frame, with its quiet power from Lyon’s antsy but energetic steps, it is clear you’ve been let into something very special and vulnerable.
With beautiful shots of a waking Melbourne landscape, you are then taken into Mischa’s Boxing Central where seven participants watch and listen closely to Lyon as she relays her own tale of survivorship.
These women and gender-diverse people connect over their shared experiences, writing in their notepads from prompts Lyon prepared for them: When I felt the connection... What I really want to say is...
From there, as Lyon instructs, they will box in controlled drills, sometimes against a bag and sometimes with a partner, before really letting into the bags and unleashing the emotions they captured in their writing.
For 8 weeks they will write, box, and cry, together.
The whole dance is mesmerising, and difficult but inspiring to watch. Such raw emotion and strength is something seldom seen in media, and to see any of the eight break down mid-drill after sharing their stories of abuse is heartbreaking to bear. The camerawork and cinematography are strong and sometimes frenzied and help intensify how close and visceral the reactions feel.
The documentary perfectly captures how physically working through trauma heals deep wounds. The scars are ripped open again with every cross, jab, and uppercut before being carefully tended to in prose and spoken word. To see how grounded each participant becomes after every session is a true sign of filmmaking and mentoring prowess.
No bed of music is needed or present in the scenes of their training: The power felt through the screen as the sounds of thuds against punching bags whilst Lyon grits her teeth and shouts “The bag can take it!” is electric. It’s hard to write a review for a documentary so tender and so vulnerable because when you view a film like Left Write Hook you’re not watching a piece of crafted entertainment – you’re witnessing the journeys of real people facing their greatest challenges.
During Covid, the documentary's filming took a turn and most of the participants recorded diaries and trained through video calls. Most of the writing for the book, which was released in 2021, was accumulated during this time.
The video diaries from some participants are dotted throughout the film and completely capture your attention, not just because you are let into some of the most private aspects of life living with trauma, but also because the documentary takes a meta direction.
Under Dir Shannon Owen, the participants’ writings are creatively reproduced in studios and recording booths, like when Gabriella towers over a miniature cityscape and narrates how passersby would make fun of their appearance, without ever knowing the pain she had gone through or how her medication changed her body. When you see her stomp on a car and shoot laughing bystanders with their golden bazooka, you can't help but cheer along as the group watches over the final footage.
This approach to telling the story of the Left Write Hook program beautifully encapsulates the journey traveled together in the program and the filmmaking. Left Write Hook is the work of a collaborative team that wanted to take back their lives, together.
As the journey reached its end, with the launch of the book at ACMI in 2021, there stand those seven participants alongside Donna Lyon, now strong and confident and renewed in body and spirit. The transformation is startling, and a testament to the program's beliefs: trauma is stored in the body and must be worked through. After Covid lockdowns, intense episodes of emotional breakdowns, and startling resilience in the face of fear – the film has now premiered at MIFF 2024 under the MIFF Premiere Fund.
It is a film that will undoubtedly unlock some deep, hidden memories for some and grow empathy in all. As Lyon recounts in a video diary in the film, how can people be so terrible to each other?
But Left Write Hook doesn’t offer despair because “it’s not my shame,” Lyon boldly states about her abuse during her morning jog at the beginning of the film.
There is nothing but hope in Left Write Hook.
At the post-screening panel, Owen told the crowd she hoped the film “would start the conversation,” not just about child sexual abuse, but incest, which is an underrepresented topic in discussing sexual abuse.
The gravity of that statement is huge. The conversation, unfortunately, will most likely never see an end – especially as one in four Australians have experienced child sexual abuse. That statistic, and after understanding Lyon's own story, caused Owen to reconsider how many survivors she had unknowingly met in life. If Left Write Hook shows anything about trauma and our relationship with ourselves, it is that it is an ever-changing battle, non-linear and without a clear 'fix.'
Watching Lyon’s work is then that much more important.
If you’d like to support the Left Write Hook boxing program, consider purchasing the book available here. The program is also seeking participants for a study being conducted by the University of Melbourne to acquire more grants in the future. You can find more info about this program here.
If you or anyone you know has suffered child sexual abuse, incest, or any sexual abuse, there are support systems for you.
Bravehearts has information about child sexual abuse and support services available online, or call their number on 1800 272 831
The Sexual Assault Crisis Line is a 24/7 service on 1800 806 292.
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