Film & TV

Can old vines save the Riverland? A new SA documentary sparks a bigger conversation

A new documentary challenges the push for vineyard removal in the Riverland, asking whether old vines could be the key to long-term renewal rather than decline.

For decades, the Riverland has carried the weight of being Australia’s wine engine room. High volumes, tight margins and relentless pressure to compete on price have shaped not just the region’s vineyards, but the way its future is discussed. Now, a new documentary is challenging that long-held consensus, asking whether the race to “right-size” the industry risks erasing something far more valuable in the process.

Released this week after a year of filming, Brendan Carter’s short documentary turns its focus to a stark reality facing Riverland growers. Many are being paid just $100–$200 per tonne for grapes that cost around $400 per tonne to produce. Water prices have tripled, margins have collapsed, and after 100 years of success, a system that once worked is now failing the people who built it.

The pressure has become relentless. Growers describe selling truck parts to stay afloat. Old bush vines planted in the 1940s — vines that have survived droughts, floods and generational change — are being ripped out because they no longer produce enough volume to justify their water use. In the rush to cut supply and “right-size” the industry, Carter argues the Riverland risks bulldozing its most irreplaceable asset.

The documentary traces the region’s roots back to the aftermath of World War I, when returned soldiers were granted land through Australia’s soldier settlement scheme. Vineyards were planted, cooperatives were formed, and the Riverland became the engine room of Australian wine. For decades, success was measured in tonnage, not taste. Volume was king, and the system delivered prosperity — until it didn’t.

Today, the maths no longer works. Break-even sits at roughly $400 a tonne, but buyers are paying half that, or less. Water is now the single biggest cost, yet higher volumes demand more irrigation, which further erodes margins. It’s a death spiral: grow more to survive, spend more to grow, and lose more each year.

Rather than framing this as inevitable decline, the film looks offshore for an alternative path. Carter looks at South Africa’s Swartland, a region that once faced strikingly similar conditions — hot, dry, dominated by bulk wine production and rock-bottom grape prices. Fifteen years ago, Swartland was struggling. Today, it is one of the world’s most closely watched wine regions.

The transformation wasn’t accidental. Dryland farming eliminated irrigation costs and turned a disadvantage into a strength. Old vines — genetically similar to those in the Riverland — became a point of pride rather than a liability. Winemakers like Eben Sadie, Craig Hawkins and Chris Mullineux took risks, building premium wines rooted in place. Collective action followed, with the formation of the Swartland Independent Producers, which introduced shared standards, certification and a unified story.

The results were dramatic. Wines that once sold as $30 bulk offerings became $165 cult releases. Even the local cooperative adapted, creating boutique production within its bulk facilities rather than abandoning the system altogether.

Academic research backs up what the documentary shows on screen. Studies from South Africa demonstrate that vineyard age, when clearly communicated, contributes directly to wine value, particularly when old-vine status is framed as heritage rather than nostalgia. Further research into Swartland’s rise highlights how collective authenticity, certification and shared narratives helped create new markets rather than simply manage contraction.

Back in the Riverland, Carter argues the challenge is not a lack of raw materials or knowledge, but structure and mindset. The sale of cooperative processing facilities to corporate owners has left growers with little leverage. Corporate buyers have no incentive to lift grape prices when cheap Riverland fruit underpins their business models. For many growers — now in their 60s and 70s — building independent facilities from scratch is not a realistic gamble. Volume is no longer just an economic model; it has become a cultural identity.

The documentary lays out two futures. One manages decline: ripping out vines, shrinking the region and diversifying away from wine. The other builds demand: protecting old vines as genetic treasures, creating certification, attracting pioneers, and telling a better story — one that balances bulk production with premium value.

The stakes are high. Every old vine removed is history lost forever. The same 80-year-old bush vines being destroyed in the Riverland are commanding global attention and premium prices in Swartland. The difference, the film suggests, is not the vines themselves, but the story being told about them.

Whether the Riverland can transform remains an open question. The playbook exists. The materials exist. What remains uncertain is whether the region has the will to move from survival through volume to prosperity through value — before time runs out.

You can watch the documentary 100 Years to Build It. 10 Years to Lose It. Can It Be Saved? on Youtube here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=faIlImCDDs0

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