"Australia," like "Moulin Rouge" (2001), continues with director Baz Luhrmann's formula of something old, something new and a lot of stuff that's so old one can't help but love it. Luhrmann has clearly given up on the idea of ever coming up with an original story, but that does not seem to bother him. "Australia" works well because it embraces so many aspects of all these ancient and familiar genres that it blends together (from Western to romance to rag-tag group adventures).
The plot sounds like a volume of recognizable stories put into a blender and shoved back together. Hugh Jackman (who seems to be channeling a '60s-era Clint Eastwood) plays Drover, a hard-as-nails cowboy who's simply trying to hide the fact that he's had his heart broken. Nicole Kidman is Lady Ashley, a prim-and-proper lady of high society who is clearly out of her element as she frets over the state of her luggage in the rugged Australian Outback. The two are comically mismatched, though, of course, they end up falling madly in love with each other.
But plot does not matter much in "Australia." The opening hour and a half is centered on someone getting a monopoly to sell beef to the army, but that would only be boring if the audience actually cared about World War II-era cattle economics. The story is merely an excuse to show the spectacular landscape as Luhrmann's camera flies over the Outback, showing the mountains and cliffs with such majesty that he's practically daring someone to try to argue that the whole "nature is beautiful" trick has been done.
The "story" is just an excuse to bring every superbly hyperbolic scene of passion between Drover and Ashley to the forefront. One cannot help but get swept up in the operatic intensity of their love. The movie promises adventure and romance in the opening title cards, and no amount of plot is going to interfere with those things.
In fact, due to this outlook, Luhrmann somehow manages to breathe new life into the tired World War II genre. In "Australia," the war is just another part of the story. The Japanese attack on the city of Darwin comes much later in the film than it would have if another director were tackling the project. Also, when the bombs hit, it is just seen as a random act of violence that throws the characters' lives into chaos, not a grand moment in which freedom and nationalism are threatened.
While the ideals may have been thought of later, "a random act of violence which takes all order from your life" is probably how many Australians actually reacted to the Japanese air raids. The film shows the audience that life happened before the raid and will go on after the raid. It becomes an event, not the whole film.
Of course, nothing in this film, no matter the thought behind it or the scenery, would have worked without the brilliant acting. Both Kidman and Jackman are, naturally, phenomenal. Kidman in particular does a perfect job of going one moment from hilariously uptight and being the focal point of all laughter to the next moment, where she is the center of pathos.
But the true actor worth mentioning is Brandon Walters, who plays the mystical young Aborignese boy, Nullah. It is very easy to care for Nullah, even for those who despise child actors. Walters sells this character with such sincerity and so little pretension or saccharine cuteness that he accomplishes what so many other child actors have attempted and failed.
Now, one might say that many of these issues were already addressed in "Moulin Rogue." This may be true, but Luhrmann probably sees himself as a director not above redundancy. The film is conscious of its director's past, with a very evident nod to the prior film's style via some handy map-usage. And, as evidenced in a scene where one character discusses cattle, but Kidman's character thinks he's talking about something completely different (think: naughty poetry), some ideas are just so good that a filmmaker can't leave them behind for a little bit of novelty.
