Adrian Ortega’s Westgate (2025) is a deeply personal homage to the resilience of working class migrant mothers and communities.

His second feature film shown at MIFF following on from 2019’s Cerulean Blue, glares back at Australia’s facade of ‘plenty’ and tells a two-pronged tale of struggle and joy. Set in 1999 West Footscray, Westgate takes place over 24 hours as single mother Netta grapples with a piling list of urgent responsibilities all on her own, the most pressing being an ultimatum from her landlord. As she rushes to find the money to pay her rent she must also deal with: her unreliable ex-partner; her complex relationship with her Italian immigrant mother; the chronic health complications of her 12 year old son; her failing hairdressing business and again, face the grief of her father’s death when she was a girl.

Inspired by the real life tragedy of the West Gate Bridge collapse in 1970 that claimed the lives of 35 construction workers, primarily affecting the working-class immigrant community of West Melbourne; Westgate is part fiction, part sheer reality.

The film provides us with a glimpse into the rising tension of living on the fringes of society, where money really can buy you happiness, even just for a few hours of worry-free bliss. An ode to Ortega’s own childhood as a second generation Italian-Spanish immigrant growing up in the western suburbs of Melbourne, a melange of vibrant ethnic migrant culture, the film highlights the strength of these communities.

Westgate captures a nostalgia for ‘90s Melbourne, through its various small details like Netta’s beat-up old Toyota and her son Julian’s gameboy. In the film’s fast-paced and chaotic narrative, the audience is literally driven around various typical Melbourne suburban locations, such as the pub and “Nonna’s house”. Ortega’s storytelling (though bumpy at times and not completely wrapped up) is personal and perhaps anecdotal with its connections to his own upbringing and childhood. It is clear that this story and these characters are close to his heart, they feel like real people, maybe because they are.

Netta, played by Sarah Nicolazzo, is an Erin Brokovic type character; spunky and determined in nature, yet also self-destructive at times due to her stubbornness. Nicolazzo’s performance combines sarcastic wit – in her swift delivery of many biting lines – with tenderness and overwhelming protectiveness for her son Julian. She fills the screen with all her might and is an inextinguishable force. Max Nappo, who plays Julian, holds onto this boyish sweetness and naivety that contrasts the harsh realities faced by him and his mother. A loveable and genuine voice throughout, the young actor is composed and darling. The two characters embody the complexities of intergenerationality and encapsulate familial cycles of struggle and trauma with their beautiful mother-son relationship.

Whilst drawing its audience back to ‘90s Australia, Westgate is also a timeless tale of the struggles of working class migrants in this country, ringing true especially in recent times. Westgate redirects our focus to the untold stories of migrant peoples in Australia, capturing the struggles and triumphs for acceptance and the multiplicity of Australian diasporic identity. The film, though set in our recent past, reminds us urgently that migrant voices are instrumental in shaping contemporary Australia. Watching it in conjunction with the recent uprising in hypocritical anti-immigration rhetoric and xenephobic hate speech that has been emboldened by various national demonstrations, Westgate captures a sincere and endearing snapshot of Australia.

With these demonstrations and the complex conversation of Australian national identity eating at me, I prompted Ortega to express how he felt as an artist working and growing up in migrant communities. Immediately asserting his condemnation of these events, Ortega wrote:

I find it disgusting that in this day and age that we have people who do not understand that migrants are the foundation of this country, the ... problem is much more complicated than ‘immigration’.

These events have brought into question how experiences and understanding of Australianness are navigated by the voices of those with diasporic identities. On this, Ortega wrote:

As a 2nd generation European living here, [I] am always conscious of what it's like to live in Australia from a migrant background. I've always never considered myself the archetype ‘Australian’ even in today's day, so I am always feeling like a kind of outsider, and perhaps that seeps into my work unconsciously.

Westgate seems to be reckoning with the layers of Australian identity, one that is personal to Ortega but also universal for many. He concluded:

My intention was to tell an honest migrant/Australian story, one from my own experiences and that reflected my community. To me, being Australian is being open and accepting to people of all kinds.

A hardworking tale of sacrifice and laughter, Westgate is true to who many Australians are. It is an earnest love letter to the communities that have built Melbourne, and the Australia we know today.