Australia review

Australia's director and co-writer, Baz Luhrmann could certainly never be accused of being understated. Works such as Romeo + Juliet and Moulin Rouge have shown him to be a bold filmmaker with an extravagant vision and sense of style. This melodramatic celebration of the scale and spirit of his home country is an epic on every scale. Most notably, an epic bore. Interminably long, watching it as I was in Los Angeles, Australia felt every bit as long as the flight to the country itself.

Though lacking the heavy emphasis on music of Luhrmann's previous films, Australia radiates the same vivid palette. The country's vast and picturesque landscape is painted in rich colours, but the sumptuous settings, though pleasing to look at, are not enough to sustain your interest over such a long period. Unfortunately though, neither is the story.

Extending the Australian connection to the cast, the film stars two of the country's most successful actors in a sprawling romantic tale set against the backdrop of the Second World War. Beginning in 1939, the snobbish Lady Sarah Ashley (Nicole Kidman) is heading off from England to see her husband Maitland who is running a remote cattle ranch, the aptly named Far Away Downs, situated in Australia's Northern Territory. He is endeavoring to break the monopoly on providing the military with beef held by his neighbour King Carney (Bryan Brown).

When Lady Sarah arrives, she finds her husband dead, apparently murdered by a local aboriginal mystic, King George ( David Gulpilil). Determined to carry on her husband's mission, Sarah solicits the help of Drover (Hugh Jackman) to help drive her cattle to Darwin. Adding to the story's allegorical theme is Nullah (Brandon Walters), the illegitimate son of an aboriginal mother and white father, Neil Fletcher (David Wenham). Fletcher had previously worked for Maitland Ashley, but joins forces with Carney after being dismissed by Sarah, who finds herself looking after Nullah following his mother's death.

Australia's cinematography, aligned to its occultly undercurrent, gives the film a sense of fantasy. Luhrmann's use of music is less overt here but it still plays a key role with the recurring strains of Somewhere Over the Rainbow figuring at critical moments. Weaving Wizard of Oz references into a story about the Australian outback is just one of the film's many amusing elements. It's like the lingering shots of Jackman's muscled physique that punctuate proceedings. There is one moment when the normally bearded, casually-attired Drover arrives at a party cleanshaven and wearing a white tux. It's an image better suited to a commercial. So unapologetically deifying is the shot that is solicited as many laughs as it did swoons.

Such scenes, along with the often banal dialogue, cause one to question whether in fact Luhrmann was making a spoof of an epic. The numerous false endings certainly provide more fuel for this argument. A love poem to the roots and magic of his country, the director should be applauded for at least trying something courageous. The only trouble is, the higher you try and jump, the further you have to fall.

Kevin Murphy