Remember when Australia used to make epic films about itself? This is one of the dull ones. In part this is due to the story, which isn't that interesting - there is the great irony of Burke and Wills missing their fellow explorers by a few hours, and the novelty of Burke's affair with an opera singer, but apart from that it was a dull journey - no aboriginal attacks (not against them, anyway - there was against another part of the mission), lots of trudging over sand dunes and through marshes. Burke and Wills are obviously such idiots that it's hard to sympathise (aboriginals watching on the sand dunes as they die through an inability to eat food). Their characters aren't terribly interesting (mad Irishman and stiff upper lift Pom) and their plight unengaging.
There's no supporting character to liven things up, either. Greta Scacchi keeps her clothes on. Hugh Keays Byrne looks as though he's going to do something interesting but doesn't. There's a dreadful bit where a British member of the trip talks about being traumatised by seeing sepoys killed during the Indian mutiny - maybe this happened, but it feels false and 80s political correctness. There's a fair bit of that during the film, actually, notably the depiction of the Aboriginals - who are treated badly, are noble and mysterious with their dreamtime stuff... but at the same time are very much the "other", they are given no humanity or personality, they are these exotic creatures.
Michael Thomas, the writer, does what he can: dream sequences, a bit of non linear narrative. But it's not enough. This is dull.
Beautifully photographed, though.
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