Having read the reviews of movies made by various reviewers over a period of many years, I have decided to try my hand at the process. This effort was prompted by my having ordered the movie Australia from Time-Warners’ Movies on Demand.
My review of Australia is as follows:
I sincerely regret ordering the movie. More than just ordering it, I regret that I actually watched about half of it. I regret buying it ($5.99), and I regret watching it because of its poor sound track (fading in and out), its Beverly Hillbillies/Dukes of Hazard musical score, its childish dialogue, its never-ending depiction of (and its fawning over) the vaunted mysticism of the Australian aborigines, its amateur directing, its atrocious acting and its computer-generated images, ostensibly showing Australia’s magnificent scenery—some of the landscape scenes were genuine, but others would rival scenes from the Harry Potter movies. Seared into my brain is the segment showing the cattle drovers galloping their horses at full speed on the edge of a precipice and cattle falling into the abyss—that memory will stay with me forever.
I endured about half of the film before I gave up in disgust. I don’t know how it ended because I didn’t wait for the ending, and I don’t want to know how it ended because I really don’t care. The entire cast and crew and everyone else who was even remotely connected to the movie should be charged, tried, convicted and sentenced to watch the film in its entirety, credits included, for at least 500 of their waking hours (143 times) with their heads clamped in a stationary vise and their eyelids taped (or stapled) open.
Australia is one of the worst movies ever made—it easily qualifies for a spot near or at the top of any Worst Ten list. I have difficulty believing that Nicole Kidman actually earned her nomination for best actress in Moulin Rouge!, and it’s even more difficult to understand why she was awarded an Oscar in The Hours for the best performance of an actress in a leading role. I haven’t seen either of those movies, and because of her silly, superficial and inane performance in Australia I don’t plan on ever seeing them.
However, I must say that I enjoyed her performance in the movie Billy Bathgate, but only the part where she dived (yes, dived, not dove, is the correct past-tense of the verb to dive, regardless of what the dictionary shows) into a secluded waterfall pool after standing, well-illuminated in full-frontal view of the camera, for several heart-thumping seconds before diving—and that scene was enjoyable only because she was sans swimsuit. Actually, she was sans everything—she wore only a smile, and showed considerable evidence of not having used any sort of depilatory preparation. Since the scene did not require the actress to emote in any fashion, she therefore rocked it (she did this scene with Dustin Hoffman watching, and I have envied him ever since).
My rating system for movies consists of five stars, with films being rated from zero to five—the more stars, the better the movie.
Australia earns a well-deserved zero.