Favourite Australian Movies!

"It takes a certain kind of person to do what I do. No-one's ever impressed; no-one's ever fascinated. If you're a fireman, all the kids will want to jump on the back of the truck and follow you to a fire. There's going to be no kids willing to do that with me. So, I don't do it to impress people - it's a job, it's my trade, and I actually think I'm pretty good at it."

There is one undeniable, inescapable bona fide fact regarding humans that we rarely like to discuss or even mention: everybody poos. Generally speaking, mainstream movies exercise this fact for brainless comedy. Modern comedies usually toss in a fart gag or a diarrhoeic outburst in a desperate attempt for a laugh. From such scenes in Harold & Kumar Go to White Castle or Dumb and Dumber, to dramatic shit smearing in North Country...even to German hack director Uwe Boll whose films are pure cinematic semi-liquid nuggets of week-old vindaloo proportions.

Kenny serves a potent yet valuable reminder regarding everybody's need to poo. At first it most likely seems like a daft single-joke comedy overflowing with scatological humour. During its marketing campaign and preliminary hype, there wasn't much to convince anyone otherwise. But Kenny is something radically different. This is a hysterical, enormously entertaining mockumentary featuring an impeccable blend of humour, pathos and heart-warming moments. It delivers a poignant and effective snapshot of a forgotten cog in society who's frowned upon due to the nature of his trade. The character of Kenny (played by little-known actor Shane Jacobson, who won an AFI award for his performance) is commonly alienated from family and friends due to his job. But with this mockumentary we're reminded that he performs an essential public service: if the "Kennys" of the world didn't exist, where would we take a dump at a big festival? It's a trade no-one wants to think about, yet someone needs to do it.

The Jacobson brothers themselves were sceptical as to whether this concept would actually work as a film. Kenny was originally a short that debuted at a major Aussie film festival. Astonishingly, the audience reaction was enormously positive. Due to massive demand, Splashdown (the toilet company which the character of Kenny works for) persuaded the Jacobson brothers to develop the concept into a feature-length movie...and Kenny was eventually born.

Kenny Smyth is a typical Everyman trying to make a living. He works at a Corporate Bathroom Rental company known as Splashdown. Kenny is a knight in shining overalls, taking care of business with his faithful Splashdown crew by his side. The film follows Kenny as he tackles all troubles great and small...from the biggest festival to smallest social gatherings; Kenny confronts every septic challenge that comes his way. He also battles his way through personal problems, dealing with his bitter divorce during which he lost custody of son Jesse (played by Shane Jacobson's real-life son), and he also must tend to the blossoming romance between himself and an airline hostess (Bibra). Every challenge in Kenny's life he faces with charm, humour and unflinching dignity.

"I'd love to be able to say "I plumb toilets" and have someone say "Now that is something I've always wanted to do"."


Kenny lifts the lid on the very real issues in contemporary society. No-one is ever impressed or fascinated with what Kenny does. Kenny even expounds on the glories of his craft. It isn't as glamorous as being a fireman but it's also more secure than a desk job. ("It's not like my business is ever going to dry up overnight!") In addition, he's treated badly by the members of the general public he's forced to interact with. Barely anyone will shake his hand, his own father (played by Shane and director Clayton Jacobson's actual father) orders him to remove his work overalls before sitting down, and people shun him at social gatherings. When Kenny's son assists in cleaning the port-a-loos, members of the public complain indignantly and inquire "What kind of diseases could he get?". This film presents us with disillusionments and misunderstandings in relation to Kenny's trade. For its brutal honesty and realism, the filmmakers deserve to be lauded.

Director Clayton Jacobson (who gets a very small role as well) lensed the movie using suitable digital photography. It feels like a home movie at times, which is the desired effect. Lots of people (myself included) were under the false impression that Kenny was a real person, and that the events were real. Make no mistake: 95% of the film is staged and rehearsed, with the fantastic naturalistic acting generating the ingenious illusion that we're watching genuine documentary footage. The cinematography is extremely accomplished with its fly-on-the-wall style.

"There's another classic example of someone having a two inch arsehole and us having installed only one inch piping."


Shane Jacobson earned an AFI award for Best Actor. His acting can only be described as faultless. In real life, Shane doesn't have a lisp. I, like many others, was under the impression that the lisp was genuine. This is a testament to the masterclass of acting offered by Jacobson. Kenny Smyth is the best Aussie character to hit screens since Michael Caton's Darryl Kerrigan in The Castle and Paul Hogan's Mick Dundee in Crocodile Dundee. He presents the essential Australian: simple, hard-working and looking forward to having a beer at the end of the day. Kenny's naivety is emphasised by his family's simplicity. He's the first person in his family to fly out of Australia, and he's utterly curious about the workings of an aeroplane. When he arrives at Nashville, Tennessee in America for the International Plumper and Cleaner Expo - i.e. "Poo HQ" as Kenny affectionately calls it - he's bewildered by the size of the expo. Kenny is also your typical Aussie using ockerisms and slang that may appear pretty peculiar to an international audience. His similes are particularly amusing. "Sillier than a bum full of smarties", "Mad as a clown's cock", and so on. Kenny is irresistible and charming, humorous and kind-natured. He's part philosopher, part comedian and all heart. Shane Jacobson gives the film the gusto and momentum it needs.
The other actors deserve a brief mention. It was a family and friend affair, with Shane Jacobson's real father playing Kenny Smyth's father, and Shane's real son played Kenny's son. Ronald Jacobson was nominated for Best Supporting Actor at the AFI awards. He's brilliant, witty and quotable.

The Jacobson brothers may have built the film's premise around toilets and poo, yet a brown log is never actually shown at all throughout the entire film. They never cross the line...the "mud biscuits and apple juice" are merely referenced instead of being shown. The humour of the film is in Kenny's delightful matter-of-factness in his observations. He cleverly describes his trade and things going on around him...and it's hilarious. Better yet, it's all done with a straight face. At the beginning of the film Kenny is interviewing a potential client via phone. As he asks whether this client will be serving food or drink at the event, the implications of his questions are hilarious. "Are there any Indonesian foods or curries?" The opening 30 minutes are probably the strongest part of the movie. We are offered a very intimate insight into the life of Kenny Smyth. Kenny is developed as a three-dimensional human, and in his personality fragments we see ourselves. From start to finish, it's a mosaic of hilarious and quotable lines with an adequate dosage of pathos and heart. The concoction works incredibly effectively!

"There's a smell in here that is gonna outlast religion."


When all's said and done, Kenny simply reminds everyone that in the age of big-budget adventures and CGI spectacles, engaging characters and a good story are all that matter. Kenny has both. This is a little-known film that scored big at the box office. It remained in cinemas for roughly a year. Even after the DVD was released, selected Australian cinemas were still showing it. As a character study so singularly focused on its central character, a film like this relies on its central character for its success. Shane Jacobson delivers a delightful performance. Kenny is a man with good intentions, and this comes across very powerfully. Shane has impeccable comedic timing as he deadpans a series of hilarious lines in expert fashion. Aside from being consistently laugh-out-loud funny, the terrific script generates real affection for Kenny in order that we desperately root for him to succeed. The character makes several valid observations about family, work and the value of human dignity.

Kenny is a masterpiece for its expert amalgamation of great comedy, pathos and terrific touching moments. This is a hysterical movie that holds up admirably no matter how many times you watch it. I still laugh at every joke after 50 viewings. It's a very entertaining movie, and I absolutely love it. At first I had no interest in seeing this picture. But on a firm recommendation I attended a screening (which required a lot of searching to determine which local cinemas were showing it), and it was the best cinematic experience in my entire life. It was a full house, and every single person in the cinema was crying with laughter. It was the most entertaining two hours of my entire life, and now I constantly revisit the movie. This is the greatest mockumentary in history! Yes, it's better than This is Spinal Tap!!

Followed by a spin-off TV series entitled Kenny's World.

"In this world only the strong survive. The weak get crushed like insects."

Shine is a deceitfully straightforward and disposable title for an unreservedly amazing motion picture. This low-budget Australian feature illuminates the strength of the human spirit and the triumph of the heart as it depicts the tremendous courage of a troubled individual. The story it conveys is incredibly poignant - a young man driven to breaking point by his father, and defying his father's wishes in order to pursue his dreams. Provocative, enthralling and potent, Shine offers a tale of insurgence and individuality through the eyes of a pianist whose sole form of self-expression is in the ivory keys of a piano. Shine may superficially appear uninteresting and depressing - yet, quite simply, it's anything but. Writer-director Scott Hicks' biopic is an astonishingly well-made saga of triumph over adversity and the destructive power of love that's compelling viewing; leaving no emotional chain unyanked.

At the Sundance Film Festival of 1996, Shine was among the hottest properties being offered. This unforgettable tour de force ignited a distributor bidding war between Harvey Weinstein of Miramax and Bob Shaye of New Line. Upon its eventual theatrical release, Shine was acclaimed by critics and movie-goers alike. Despite its low-budget origins, this film was among the must-see movies of 1996. It earned 9 AFI (Australian Film Institute) Awards, including those for Best Picture, Best Actor (Geoffrey Rush) and Best Supporting Actor (Armin Mueller-Stahl). Noah Taylor was additionally nominated for Best Actor, competing against Rush.

Astonishingly, Shine even reached the Academy Awards! Geoffrey Rush received the Oscar for Best Actor for his memorable performance as the mentally unstable adult David. The film was nominated for additional Oscars - Best Picture, Best Director (Scott Hicks), Best Supporting Actor (Armin Mueller-Stahl), Best Screenplay, Best Editing and Best Music. Although it only gleaned a single Oscar at the ceremony...for a little Aussie movie it's extremely impressive nonetheless. On top of this, it also acquired an incalculable amount of prestigious awards worldwide. This includes awards at the BAFTAs and the Golden Globes (Rush continually won Best Actor). After viewing the first frame of Shine, it's already obvious why it garnered so much acclaim. This is a testament to the glorious filmmaking in all departments.

The film is a fictionalised account of the life of Australian pianist David Helfgott. Shine chronicles David's life from childhood (played by Alex Rafalowicz), through to adolescence (Noah Taylor), and onwards to adulthood (Geoffrey Rush). David's father, Peter (Mueller-Stahl), is a Polish Jew who settled in Australia following his devastating experience during the Holocaust. The anguish of losing loved ones impels Peter to keep his family together at all costs, and his drive to teach David music from a young age is a direct reaction to his own father's dislike of music. As a little boy, David is a child prodigy who shows phenomenal promise. After performing at a school recital, music teacher Ben Rosen (Bell) notices David's obvious talent and offers to teach him. As an adolescent, David wins several competitions and is offered a scholarship for the Royal College of Music in London. Even despite his father's pungent objections, David departs for London...and Peter summarily disowns his son. In London his brilliance flourishes, and he opts to attempt a notoriously difficult piece of music. The cumulative pressure overwhelms David, and after playing a perfect rendition of Rachmaninoff's Third Concerto he suffers a mental breakdown. Ten years on, David resides in mental institutions who frown upon the piano in fear of a relapse. An unlikely romance eventually brings stability, and through several twists of fate (more unlikely than those told in the film) he makes his return to the concert stage.

Gillian: "How do you feel?"

David: "I'm shocked, stunned and amazed."

In 1986, Scott Hicks read a newspaper story about David Helfgott - a pianist who performed a flawless classical catalogue at a Perth restaurant. Hicks' interest was immediately ignited, and he arranged to witness Helfgott in concert. For the majority of the following year, Hicks worked to earn Helfgott's trust with the goal in mind of committing his story to celluloid. Jan Sardi's screenplay was admittedly fictionalised to an extent, in fact Hicks is emphatic Shine is not a straight biography despite including real people and events. Although it'd be interesting to behold a more faithful telling of David Helfgott's life & career, Shine is 1996's most stirring and inspirational movie. The decidedly inaccurate story is both powerful and affecting. It's riveting from the first frame 'til the last, which is a combination of the wonderful script, the engaging performances, the focused direction and the banquet of striking locations. The passion for the music incessantly clattering around in David's head fuels the film. Handsomely photographed concert scenes are bequeathed with the energy of a shootout in a John Woo picture. It's pianist vs. music in a contest of wills, and this is embodied by swirling, dizzying camera work.

Sardi and Hicks elected to tell the story of David Helfgott in a non-chronological manner. While the structure isn't totally jumbled - ala Pulp Fiction - the film is predominantly told through flashbacks. This bestows the movie with a unique dynamic. Fortunately, there is no voice-over narration - the proceedings speak for themselves without the support of a disembodied voice adding "valuable" comments. Those behind the camera have made few, if any, mistakes with Shine - and the fashion of its unique presentation is just one example of a perfect creative decision.

Love can flaunt various different faces, and Shine illustrates two of the most extreme. The first is Peter Helfgott's compulsive, domineering love. Mueller-Stahl's performance challenges a viewer to label Peter as just another abusive father attempting to live vicariously through the talents of his son. Peter can be consoling and gentle every so often, and there's no denying that he holds genuine feelings for David. Nevertheless there are instances when his outbreaks cause violence, and cruel results are the outcome.

The other face of love is the healing, undemanding one - as personified in a middle-aged astrologer named Gillian (Redgrave). As the two fall in love, Gillian offers her strength and understanding to David in order to help him rebuild his life. The final scene depicts the synthesis of both these faces as David attempts to at long last bring closure to one of the great, unresolved issues of his troubled life.

Ardently character-driven from the opening sequence, Shine is carried by phenomenal performances right down the line. Geoffrey Rush makes short, infrequent appearances during the film's first half before being brought to the fore for the film's final half. Rush's Academy Award was well-earned (as was his AFI Award, for that matter). His stuttering delivery exemplifies the unbridled genius of the adult David Helfgott. Noah Taylor was also nominated for an AFI Award as the adolescent David. Even though the two actors worked together to perfect specific mutual mannerisms, each offered a unique interpretation of the character. Taylor is young, energetic, and highly-strung. Rush, on the other hand, presents a recuperating David who - while still hyperkinetic - is progressively learning to face the world as opposed to hiding from it.

David's childhood is dominated by Armin Mueller-Stahl as Peter Helfgott; a man who recognised his son's remarkable abilities and pushed him to practice and learn. Fatherly love becomes single-mindedness - when David is accepted into prestigious international music schools, his father refuses him permission to go due to an obsession with family unity, strength and pride. "You will destroy your family!" he screams.

The supporting cast includes Alex Rafalowicz as a wonderfully assured infant David, Googie Withers, Lynn Redgrave, Nicholas Bell and John Gielgud as a crusty, cravat-sporting piano teacher.

"No-one will love you like me, no-one like me."

Shine primarily concerns building strength from weakness. It's inspirational due to the fact David fights his way back. He never renounces, and his triumph becomes ours. David may not have experienced these precise events, but he most certainly endured the basic outline - becoming an exceptional pianist, collapsing, and putting himself back together again. This basic structure alone is astonishing, and perfectly conveys the consequences of a strong human heart. Shine is extraordinarily compelling for essentially a character study of one man, and director Scott Hicks masterfully uses the camera to capture an inner turmoil. The acting is immaculate (Rush's frantic babbling as the insane David perfectly encapsulates the nature of the real-life David), the classical soundtrack is stirring, and the story is told with warmth and humour that prevents it from being the self-pitying wallow it could easily have become. The protagonist veers between poignant depression and touching eccentricity, coming across as an adorable innocent and giving rise to an uplifting ending. The picture also presents its own inimitable impression of genius, arguing that even the greatest talent needs to be nurtured. Through the power of David Helfgott's virtuoso musical performances, Shine illustrates that there are other, more effective ways of self-expression than mere speech.

"You must play as if there's no tomorrow."

Captain Stanley: Now, suppose I told you there was a way to save your little brother Mikey from the noose. Suppose I gave you a horse and a gun. Suppose, Mr. Burns, I was to give both you and your young brother Mikey, here, a pardon. Suppose I said that I could give you the chance to expunge the guilt beneath which you so clearly labour. Suppose I gave you till Christmas. Now, suppose you tell me what it is I want from you.
Charlie Burns: You want me to kill me brother.
Captain Stanley: I want you to kill your brother.

The Proposition is an artistic tale of disloyalty, honour, rituals of violence and familial bonds. Not only does this gritty film accomplish a new standard for the western genre (previously shaped by Sergio Leone's spaghetti westerns and other such films as Unforgiven and The Wild Bunch), but it additionally inaugurates a new era of Australian filmmaking. The Proposition is a peculiar film that can best be described as a beautiful nightmare mixed with an absorbing character examination and some unconventional underlying messages. Nick Cave, the famous Aussie rocker, wrote the screenplay as well as assisting in the creation of the powerful and evocative musical score, with John Hillcoat at the helm. In a nutshell: this is one of those westerns you will either love or loathe. It is a strange, unsettling film that is both gratuitous and relentless - exactly the tone of the period in which it is set. Some people criticised the strong explicit violence; however I find it necessary to underline the strong moralistic message that stimulates the film's proceedings.

The title of The Proposition refers to a significant facet of the film's plot: a facet that virtually fuels the film for its duration. The typical plot for a western has been transplanted into the harsh sands of rural outback Australia. Mikey (Wilson), Charlie (Pearce) and Arthur Burns (Huston) are three brothers who are prime suspects in raping a pregnant woman and subsequently murdering an entire family. A British lawman known as Captain Stanley (Winstone) is hired by the local Australian authorities to track down the three brothers. At the beginning of the film, Charlie and Mikey Burns lose in a shoot-out to the authorities and are arrested by Captain Stanley. But the supposed mastermind of the brothers, Arthur, is on the loose. Stanley strikes an impossible proposition with Charlie. Basically, Stanley will agree to pardon both Charlie and Mikey if Charlie agrees to venture out into the desert and hunt down his brother Arthur. If Charlie does not return by Christmas Day then young Mikey will be hung by the neck. Either way, one of his brothers will be killed on Christmas Day. Charlie is faced with the gruelling decision of choosing which brother he must sacrifice to save the other.

The plot is straightforward and easy to follow, but at the same time it's also highly effective and embodies tremendous emotional depth. This praiseworthy emotional depth can be attributed to the potent screenplay penned by Nick Cave, the powerful performances, astonishing direction and the captivating cinematography that accurately encapsulates the unsympathetic rural outback. Using beautiful cinematography, the filmmakers present a commendable portrayal of the landscape of the Australian desert. This aforementioned landscape is a character equally as vital as any of the damaged souls wandering through it. The outback is laudably photographed by Hillcoat and cinematographer Benoit Delhomme: it's beautiful yet hostile, recognisable yet alien and ultimately indifferent to humankind. The sands of this desolate area are spectacular to witness. Scorched and sun-blasted - this is the kind of location where awful, violent things are bound to transpire.

The Proposition returns the western genre to its roots by resurrecting classic trademarks. One of these admirable qualities is the equivocations while establishing the heroes from the villains. The three Burns brothers are portrayed as evil, but on the contrary the film explores this facet to be marginally untrue. Charlie in particular is on the road to redemption and this film depicts the change of mindset. This inner journey is a deeply explored, leading to an remarkably potent final shot. The authorities of the genre are stereotypically depicted as the heroes of the film. The Proposition blurs that convention and presents us with a diverse slate of characters. For the most part, the authority figures are shown as brainless and inept, but above all are even more heartless than the outlaws they are currently hunting.

The transformation of locations is another innovative feature in this particular film. Filmmakers have endlessly portrayed the period in different American locations, so when the creative team shifted the focus to Australia they were already breaking new ground. There are many stirring and memorable things about this brutal Australian western, but personally the flies created the most potent effect. Possibly this is for the reason that they're absolutely everywhere; the majority of the film's scenes feature the omnipresent buzzing of hundreds of hungry flies. Whether indoors or outdoors, moving or standing still, it matters not - they're there and you cannot avoid them. Some scenes even highlight the fact that inhabitants of the outback have learned to eat food even if infested with the entire fly population. Their presence is inescapable in the blistering outback wasteland in which The Proposition is set, and that impression of suffocating inevitability is raw, visceral and uncompromising: ultimately an admirable component imperative for the film's success.

Each character of the film is played to absolute perfection. This is an Australian film with British financing, hence a rare instance when an Aussie film contains a cast filled by international stars. Guy Pearce is fierce and haunting in the lead role. We've all seen him in films such as Memento and Factory Girl, and he's tremendously suitable as a typical gunslinger. His character undergoes a subtle moralistic internal journey that leads to an unexpectedly, unforgettably brutal climax. Surrounding Pearce we have a number of fantastic international stars filling the supporting cast. Ray Winstone plays a principal character that is explored powerfully. His character of Captain Stanley does not succumb to the expected hateful authority figure. Stanley is a rational man trying to do the right thing and yet realising that he's hopelessly overwhelmed. Gazing out at the despondency of the desert, Stanley has no idea what will materialise and his uncertainty is where the central plot is constructed. The Proposition sees Stanley trapped in a hell that is partly his own doing and partly circumstance. He asserts his control early and makes his goal clear: he wants to civilise the country. However it doesn't take long before things slip from his grasp. This is especially palpable when he's upbraided by his superior: the commanding Eden Fletcher (Wenham) who's furious that Stanley allowed a prisoner to go free. Stanley becomes reduced to a dumbstruck child, unable to do much more than weep for the destruction of his pride and all he thought was right. Part of Stanley's downfall can be attributed to his desire to civilise the outback and his willingness to strike deals with devils to do so. Although actor Guy Pearce is the lead, I see the story as being more about Winstone's character of Stanley. While Pearce's Charlie confronts his inner demons to achieve a moral awakening, Stanley is also undergoing a spiritual journey as he comes to terms with the destruction of his merits. Danny Huston brilliantly portrays the murderous rage of Arthur Burns and creates a career-best performance. Also in the cast there's a superb John Hurt as a quirky bounty hunter, a unique David Wenham as the aforementioned authority figure, and Emily Watson as Winstone's bride.

Overall, The Proposition is one of the best Australian productions I have seen for years! This is an intense, riveting, wholly gratifying and poignant addition to the western genre that has remained dormant for years. Not since Jim Jarmusch's 1995 film Dead Man have I been this impressed with the genre. Before that, Clint Eastwood's Unforgiven. Every generation has its definitive western and, until persuaded otherwise, The Proposition stands as this generation's definitive western. There may be a shortage on action, but it doesn't matter through my eyes. This is a beautifully filmed movie that is both powerful and challenging. The film's climax is particularly haunting. The final shot shows two characters sitting motionless in front of an achingly gorgeous sunset as one asks the other, "What're you gonna do now?" The answer goes unspoken, however it rings clear anyway: sit here and wait for the flies to come take them just like everyone else.

"The saltwater crocodile is probably the most dangerous member of the crocodilian family. They can swim underwater at up to 20 miles an hour without making a ripple on the surface. And they can burst out to attack...with incredible speed."

To the inexpert eye, one might see Rogue as your customary crocodile horror flick in the same league as Lake Placid or Primeval. Hollywood distributors have no shame in releasing a countless amount of monster movies that resulted in being pure rubbish.

Greg McLean stunned audiences in 2005 with the release of his low-budget horror movie Wolf Creek. As I wasn't a fan of McLean's Wolf Creek my expectations had not been raised overwhelmingly high for this film. Rogue sounds like your standard concept of a large man-eating crocodile chowing down on a few people who wander into its lair. But the results are quite the opposite...in fact this is the only decent crocodile horror movie that has ever been released.

Set in the Northern Territory, a cynical American travel writer named Pete McKell (Vartan) is sent on assignment to the Australia outback. Pete joins a bunch of tourists on a river cruise heading out to witness some crocodiles. Pete initially clashes with tour captain Kate Ryan (Mitchell): a spirited woman who simply figures him for a depressing American in search of a cheap thrill. After an uneventful day in the murky river, one of the tourists spots what appears to be a distress flair. Bound by her obligations, Kate is forced to enter unfamiliar waters to investigate. The group are blissfully unaware that they have stumbled into a region occupied by a terrestrial giant man-eating crocodile. With the group stranded on a secluded island with no radio or communication, a fight for survival emerges as enormous crocodile circles below...

The distributors for this movie delayed its release on several occasions. Why? Because 2007 also had FOUR other killer crocodile movies set for release (another being a low-budget Aussie production). By all accounts, McLean's Rogue emerged as the superior film. Although having an extraordinarily low budget for a monster blockbuster, McLean doesn't let a cent of that money go to waste. Unlike most Hollywood croc films, McLean's team actually conducted thorough research into the movements and habits of the saltwater crocodile. The filmmakers utilised an actual rubber crocodile (gorgeously detailed) with some CGI that looks stunning. This may be a low-budget Australian movie, but the special effects are truly astonishing.

The script does contain some predictable scares and clichéd characters; however it's the best screenplay written thus far for a crocodile movie. Firstly, the dialogue is realistic. Secondly, the characters are realistic. Thirdly, about 80% of the genre's clichés have been removed. McLean delicately allows the audience to familiarise themselves with each character as some head towards their imminent doom. The character development is strong and fascinating: there's clever dialogue and interesting personalities. The only flaw is that the characters sometimes suffer from the typical clichés of the genre. We usually know which characters are going to get killed first.

The film's two central characters are played to perfection by Radha Mitchell and Michael Vartan. A special mention must be made about Stephen Curry. Essentially, he's the film's comic relief: your mainstream beer-drinking Aussie who makes funny remarks.

Young director Greg McLean has crafted this movie almost faultlessly. He effectively makes use of everything at his disposal: there are sweeping shots of the gorgeous locations and some intense horror scenes that are skilfully filmed. The score is also a particular stand-out. Whenever a piece of marvellous cinematography is showcased the score suits the atmosphere.

Rogue may be a low-budget Australian movie but it's the definitive croc experience. It's by no means perfect due to a few problems in the screenwriting department, but this is superior to any and all crocodile movies preceding its release. It's suspenseful, chilling and atmospheric. Highly recommended!!

"When I lived in Porpoise Spit, I used to sit in my room for hours and listen to ABBA songs. But since I've met you and moved to Sydney, I haven't listened to one Abba song. That's because my life is as good as an Abba song. It's as good as Dancing Queen."

During conversations regarding the greatest Australian filmic exports, Muriel's Wedding will almost certainly be mentioned. This endearing synthesis of pathos, (often lambasted) Aussie stereotypes and satisfying humour is one of the most celebrated Australian films of all time. It seems Australian filmmakers have a knack for producing feel-good, light-hearted comedies - witness such sleepers as Crocodile Dundee or The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert. Muriel's Wedding, however, is an addition to the Down Under cinematic pantheon that dares to be different. As an alternative for straight-up comedy, this particular film introduces social drama into an otherwise featherweight, irresistibly sweet tale of self-discovery. Although the final product doesn't quite gel, writer-come-director P.J. Hogan deserves top honours for his attempt to inject the diminutive Aussie industry with something innovative.

Muriel Heslop (Collette) is a frumpy, plump 22-year-old Australian woman. She is not beautiful, nor is she successful, intelligent or popular. In the opening moments of the film, she catches a bouquet at a wedding. Her "friends" instantly attack her; labelling her as a "nothing" and a "nobody". "No-one will ever marry you, Muriel" her superficial buddies also declare. Muriel is a downtrodden, disconsolate dag in a family of layabouts living solely on the reputation of their father Bill (Hunter). Bill is a bitter man, and his bitterness is manifested in his treatment of his family. He takes every opportunity to brand Muriel as "useless"...in fact he considers her the most useless of his offspring. His constant verbal abuse erodes Muriel's self-esteem. Muriel spends her days locked in her room listening to ABBA music and dreaming of the perfect wedding day. She wants nothing more than to be married - not for companionship, love or even money...Muriel simply believes it is the ultimate human experience, and proof a person has "made it". She craves acceptance, but receives none from her friends (who eventually ditch her) or her family (who have hopeless written in their genes). Then a blank cheque from her mother changes her life... Muriel vacations in Hibiscus Island where she meets old school chum Rhonda (Griffiths). Together they move to Sydney, their world is turned upside down, and Muriel - renamed Mariel - gradually breaks out of her shell as she learns a valuable lesson of a lifetime.

The primary story arc concerns Muriel's journey of self-discovery. Muriel also learns that dreams and reality are two unequivocally different things. She used to spend her days fantasising about her perfect fairytale wedding day...but when Muriel eventually does get married she finds it hollow and unfulfilling. While living in Sydney she changes her name to Mariel; a prime example of her belief in superficial changes leading to substantial personal development. For a majority of the film Muriel is also somewhat selfish. Tragedy does of course strike (not just once), putting Muriel to the test and compelling her to mature and take responsibility for her actions.

"You're right, you are a new person, and you stink. "Mariel VanArkle" stinks. And she's not half the person Muriel Heslop was."

As stated beforehand, Muriel's Wedding isn't the feel-good, straightforward comedy romp one would usually come to expect from an Australian film. Instead this is a darker, more idiosyncratic comedy-drama infused with heart, friendship, dreams, reality, tragedy and the joys of ABBA music. Muriel's Wedding could be easily perceived as a social commentary masquerading as something slightly less pretentious. From the word go, the film reminds its audience this is unmistakably not a Hollywood picture. As clichés are eschewed and unpredictable tragedy strikes, it continues to remind its audience of this.

The distinctly unconventional third act of the film pleasantly surprising. Muriel's Wedding will never be mistaken for a Hollywood production as it constantly flouts the "feel-good" clichés that normally characterise this kind of romantic comedy. The ending is by far the most surprising. There's a restrained note of hope, merely suggesting everything will be hunky-dory as opposed to blatantly showing it. Below the occasional laugh-out-loud moment lies a melancholy undercurrent that triggers a string of unpredictable and unconventional events. Alas, the frequent dramatic flashes eventually give way to a catalogue of depressing proceedings that sit rather awkwardly alongside the film's otherwise wacky, heart-warming Aussie feel. The occasional feel-good moment and uplifting ending almost compensate for the depressing detours off the comedy highway. The mixture had the potential to be perfect, but the concept required a more talented screenwriter. Additional laughs were definitely needed.

Australian comedies are reassuringly unique animals. Usually surprisingly sophisticated, Australian comedies often feature one - or sometimes several - tragic subplots running for the length of the film, functioning as a baseline to counterpoint and contrast the humour charitably peppered throughout. American comedies are merciless with dosages of (sometimes absurd) humour, while the British stretch believability to breaking point with a series of outlandish events. On the other hand, the Australian comedy film grounds its humour confidently in a sense of morbid reality (The Castle may have been a ruthlessly hilarious romp, yet the irresistible humour is never over-the-top, with its plot wholly believable). Though depressing every so often, it effectively allows every funny moment (judiciously scattered all through the picture) to shine like a nugget of pure gold.

The vibrant, energetic Toni Collette places forth a truly marvellous performance. Her transformation from overweight dag to striking beauty is amazing, and not in the typical Hollywood fashion. Stunningly, Collette appears to lose weight and grow more beautiful as time goes by. The way her character of Muriel - or is that Mariel? - matures and achieves a level of self-esteem which originally seemed impossible is a testament to the marvellous script as much as Collette's brilliant performance. The underrated Rachel Griffiths, too, is utterly credible and appealing in her performance as the headstrong Rhonda. Bill Hunter's performance (he's in every Australian film, it seems!) is incredibly well-textured, and his hateful nature is totally believable as the sad, lonely man with a deep sense of melancholy. Jeannie Drynan appears as Muriel's mother - a mentally ill woman who is little more than a slave to her family, and who dotes on her lecherous husband. She's a very downtrodden character; one of the most downtrodden you're ever likely to see on film.

One cannot review Muriel's Wedding without mentioning the aspect it's most noted for - the soundtrack! But what few people realise is the effective use to which ABBA songs are put. The music of ABBA is not just used at random points as decoration; they are placed strategically at key moments to heighten the comedy or drama. Fernando emotionally ties Rhonda and Muriel together, hence used as background music during Muriel's long drive home. Dancing Queen conveys the dreamy, shallow melancholy Muriel experiences throughout the course of the film. I Do, I Do, I Do perfectly echoes the excitement and glamour that Muriel associates with marriage. Mamma Mia is great background music as Muriel excitedly collects wedding photos. The contest scene for which Muriel and Rhonda lip-sync Waterloo is alone worth the time to view the film. Any fans of ABBA will be pleased to discover that the songs are not throwaways, but are intelligently and fittingly employed to further the plot.

Frequently cited as one of the best Australian films in history by critics, audiences and even television programs - Muriel's Wedding is a witty, enjoyable movie event everyone must check out at least once. This hugely influential and surprisingly successful film not only launched Toni Collette to international stardom (she's now remembered for About a Boy, The Sixth Sense, and many others), but also demonstrated the astonishing reservoir of untapped talent that lay in the Australian film industry. It's an utterly charming and uplifting film, and its obsessed fans exist for a good reason. Muriel's Wedding has its moments of great humour, but it's also downbeat and even mean-spirited a tad too often. While these depressing excesses may have been a turn-off for mainstream audiences, this is a flick everyone could love.

"Cancer? Oh my God! I am gonna go bald and have to eat macrobiotic food!"

"The only thing revealing at the moment is two inches of arse crack poking out the top of my pants."

Crackerjack is a simple, funny and light-hearted typical Aussie comedy that is fun and very entertaining. A terrific script written by Mick Molloy and his brother Richard, which is really able to authentically display what old Aussie codgers are truly like. Lazy slob Jack Simpson (played tremendously well by Molloy) has a membership in a local lawn bowls club purely for the purpose of renting out his car park spaces (He owns 3 memberships, equalling 3 car park spaces; the car park for the bowls club is across the road from his work). When things get desperate at the bowling club and they start running out of players, the club call upon Jack (even though he's never held a lawn bowl in his life) to play lawn bowls with the other old folks. Jack is very reluctant, but has no choice if he wants to keep his membership(s), the other two of which the club are still unaware that Jack owns. Unfortunately, this Aussie production took a lot of pasting and it's a real shame that it did. It was never meant to be a masterpiece, and it isn't, but it's a good laugh to have while enjoying a cold one. Crackerjack is also special because it displays many Australian traits that ring true in reality. From believing in the philosophy of a 'fair go', to enjoying nothing more than a cold beer on a hot afternoon. The stereotypical Australians as portrayed in the film are very accurate as well. The cast was terrific, the gags are extremely clever and overall I had a really fun time watching this movie.