Director Bruce Beresford's look at the seemingly doomed attempts of Australia's native blacks to move outside their own environs, with sidelong glances at the lack of integration afforded them by the country's own unofficial Apartheid, is itself a doomed project. The Aboriginals also fall victim here to Beresford's heavy-handed treatment of stock situations, and to banal Hollywood-style dialogue. The director rams home his messages, perhaps in a manner he hopes Aboriginals can understand, for it hardly gives them as much credit as they surely deserve. Could you believe, for example, that the father of the family lets himself be whizzed off to a gambling game while preparing to pay the rent on the steps of the landlord's office? You'll have to swallow your disbelief if you're to enjoy this picture: its half-baked 'liberal' philosophy is cooked tedium rare.


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