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Mates
in the outback: (l-r) Kidman and Jackman in Australia. |
A
Bland Down Under
By
Laura Leon
Australia
Directed
by Baz Luhrmann
The afternoon I saw Australia, I was really in the
mood for a grand, sweeping and romantic epic, the kind in
which the heroine is both lovely and plucky, and the hero,
while looking snazzy in a white dinner jacket, can send shivers
down the spines of said heroine—as well as any badasses who
threaten to interfere with either of them. Yes, I’m feeling
older, and I deal with too many spineless yes-men. Australia—just
its very name and the images of wild natural grandeur that
it conjures up—seemed just the ticket to get me out of this
particular funk.
I knew I was in trouble pretty early in, when Lady Sarah Ashley
(Nicole Kidman, looking so rail-thin as to crack at the mere
idea of being embraced by her costar) arrives in rough-and-tumble
Darwin in an attempt to round up her errant husband from his
failing ranch Down Under. Meeting her at the docks is the
Drover (Hugh Jackman, aka the costar who could easily break
Kidman’s skinny backside), and, because this is Australia,
mate, he’s engaged in a blockbuster barroom brawl, the purposes
of which are only to serve to show that this is a wild frontier,
populated by rugged individualists. Unfortunately, screenwriters
Stuart Beattie, Ronald Harwood and Richard Flanagan fail to
imbue any of the movie’s characters with individualist traits.
It’s a given that the Lady and the Drover will hate each other
at first sight, but that love and lust eventually will rule
the day. Often, the road to that moment is fun and sexy—think
To Have and Have Not, for instance. Director Baz Lurhmann,
however, doesn’t seem too invested in guiding his engaging
costars in any such manner, which is a shame. Kidman has never
been more relaxed and unself-conscious, as witnessed in a
funny scene in which she attempts to sing “Over the Rainbow”
to half-caste Nullah (Brandon Walters). For his part, Jackman
is dark and handsome, rides well, and fights convincingly,
but he is not given the material or the chance to break out
of basic introspection.
The movie traverses the widths of the continent by way of
a cattle drive and later, the onset of World War II, and much
is made of the multicultural nature of the country. Lady Sarah
proves to be quite color-blind when it comes to the populace,
particularly the motherless Nullah, at her late husband’s
ranch, and the Drover’s best friend is a black man. These
touches seem plot driven, rather than a natural extension
of people having lived in and loved a place. Too often, black
characters die to prove their devotion to their oh-so-not-
prejudiced white friends and employers (how nice for those
whites). There are occasional threats to Sarah, mostly in
the person of the odious Neal (David Wenham), but, come on,
how sinister can a guy be who arranges for the irresistible
Drover to meet Lady Ashley? Talk about a plan gone horribly
awry. Completely wasted is Bryan Brown, who, for my money,
would have been a truly formidable challenge, in more ways
than one, to the lead couple.
Ironically, Luhrmann’s camera does not induce the awe-inspiring
reaction that other films set in grandiose landscapes—any
of Ford’s westerns, Once Upon a Time in the West, of
course Lawrence of Arabia—do. Besides a lot of terra
cotta mountainsides and crackled desert, most of what we see
of Australia is the environs of Lady Sarah’s Ralph Lauren-ish
ranch and, later, burning flames amid a dark and smoky port.
Lurhmann focuses instead on trying to create funny, usually
campy moments between characters, an odd juxtaposition when,
in the next instant, the ranch is being threatened yet again
or Nullah is in danger of being sent to an orphanage. Clearly,
the rampant prejudice and discrimination that children such
as Nullah experienced are savage and worthy of a compelling
story of their own, but when the charming boy embarks upon
a walkabout at the movie’s conclusion, the sight of Sarah
bidding him a maternal farewell rings false. It’s as if neither
Nullah nor his shaman grandfather (David Gulpilil, by far
the most interesting presence in the movie) are capable of
deeming the appropriate time for this rite of passage; that’s
a privilege that must be bestowed upon them by the fair white
lady bountiful.
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