Australia
Rated: PG-13
Runtime: 2 hours, 45 minutes
Directed by: Baz Luhrmann
Starring:
Nicole Kidman - Lady Sarah Ashley
Hugh Jackman - Drover
Brandon Walters - Nullah
David Wenham - Neil Fletcher
Baz Lurhmann's first film in almost a decade is wrapped in the veneer of an epic. It's old Hollywood through and through with touches of Gone with the Wind, Giant, From Here to Eternity, and Red River along with a heavy helping of The Wizard of Oz. And yet this mixture of influences from Hollywood's first Golden Age all feels distinctly hollow because Luhrmann can't combine it into something original nor does he use it as a mean of telling an original story.
Constantly weaving around and away from its originality, Australia is told through the eyes of a half-white, half-aboriginal boy named Nullah (Brandon Walters). His narration is the film's first and perhaps largest error. The idea to have a sweeping epic told through the eyes of a child isn't necessarily a bad idea, but when told through a totally pure child who wears his poor English and ignorance (or innocence if you prefer) like a badge of honor, I feel like I'm supposed to be reading a book a la Their Eyes Were Watching God rather than being engaged by an active storyteller.
Nullah's story tells of Lady Sarah Ashley (Nicole Kidman, an Aussie playing a Brit who goes to Australia) and her love affair with Drover (Hugh Jackman) against the backdrop of sinister cattle rustlers attempting to swindle Ashley out of her land and her profits. When this storyline is resolved at only ninety minutes, the film gets another fresh hour out of the bombing of Darwin by the Japanese in 1941. But the happiness of all the good characters is threatened by the sinister and cartoony Neil Fletcher (David Wenham) whose sole purpose in life is to be an evil fuck. I didn't know whether he was going to try and bankrupt Lady Ashley or tie her to some railroad tracks. If you think that latter scenario is out the realm of possibility, you should know that at one point, Fletcher kills a guy by knocking him into a pit of crocodiles.
With only imitations of epic Hollywood characters instead of the actual shading those original characters possessed, the performances are weak all around. Walters' job is to be wide-eyed and adorable. Kidman is atrocious as she bounces from madcap comedy to Scarlett O'Hara resilience with all the subtlety of a sledgehammer. Jackman just seems bored by the whole enterprise and I can't say I blame him. Then again, I don't know how much I can blame the actors when they have so little to work with. Just because you're supposed to be in the vein of Rhett Butler, doesn't mean you get his character arc.
While I don't necessarily mind the throwback, I do mind that it's being used as a distraction rather than a showpiece. The original story and the one that's worth telling is Nullah's. His life as a bi-racial child in 1941 Australia set against the pre-modern mysticism of the aboriginal peoples crashing against the modern world's government-sanctioned racism and world war—this is the story worth telling. But when you're sitting next to the epic love story of Sarah and Drover, mysticism looks silly. When your leads are two beautiful looking white people who are cut from a 1940s Hollywood epic, then your aboriginal characters are not people with their own histories and destinies, but noble savages that can be sacrificed so whitey gets a happy ending. It's like Luhrmann is selling out one culture so that he can treat us to one we already know.
Case and point: Nullah and Ashley develop a close mother-son relationship and the song they sing to each other is "Somewhere Over the Rainbow". It's a song we all know and love but the problem is we already know and already love it. I couldn't help but wonder, "What's Nullah's song? Why doesn't Nullah teach a song to Sarah rather than having to assimilate into her culture?" When they're about to be separated, Nullah says to Sarah, "I'll sing you to me," but it's not his song. The life of the aboriginal people has to work within the framework Luhrmann's constructed from Golden Age cinema.
It's a sad irony that a film called Australia seems to have very little to do with that country and almost everything to do with how we imagined ours. It's a film lost in its own aesthetic and it's an aesthetic which spills over into the story and embraces the nostalgic while washing away the elements that could make the film feel fresh and original. Australia could have taught us all a new tune but instead it's just playing the same old song.
Words by
Matt Goldberg
11.23.08
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