L'inizio del cammino

A teenaged girl (ever-lovely Jenny Agutter) and her young brother (Lucien John, a.k.a. Luc Roeg, the directors' son) are stranded in the desolate Australian outback. They really have no clear idea of where to go or what to do, but they meet a stranger who saves their lives. He is an aborigine (Aussie icon David Gulpilil) who is partaking in the ritual known as "Walkabout", wherein he temporarily leaves his tribe to go off on his own and live off the land.

The experiences between these three young people form the balance of this excellent film. The culture clash is immediate, as the two urbanized white kids struggle to make themselves understood by the aborigine. But they ultimately become rather inseparable.

Along the way, they encounter all sorts of flora and fauna. "Walkabout" is highly noteworthy for its respect for Nature, and is filled with many visual wonders. Given that director Nicolas Roeg had been a camera operator and cinematographer, it's no surprise that the film *looks* beautiful, and it's set to a haunting and lovely John Barry score.

Three highly engaging performances anchor the film. Agutter has a naturally sexy presence, and Roeg doesn't miss opportunities to let the camera take in every aspect of her body. His son does a nice job as the brother, avoiding being overly cutesy and always relaxed on screen. Gulpilil proved to be a real find in his film debut. Another Aussie favourite, John Meillon, appears briefly as the white kids' father.

"Walkabout" was largely improvised. The Edward Bond script, based on a novel by Donald G. Payne, was actually only 14 pages or so. Knowing this, it makes the acting that much more impressive, as the cast react instinctively to the scenes & settings.

Overall, this is one of *the* iconic Australian films, and is a must-see for movie lovers interested in cinema from this part of the world.

Eight out of 10.

A remarkably potent little film about a couple of very proper English kids who get lost in the Australian outback and hitch up with an aborigine boy on his initiation quest (or "walkabout"). My mom took me to see it when I was ten, and I've been haunted by it ever since. With some understated yet disturbing themes of alienation and violence, as well as the first scenes of full nudity I had ever witnessed on screen, I've sometimes wondered whether mom knew what she was getting into when she took me along. According to the trailer in the letterbox edition, Parents' Magazine recommended the film "without reservation" for young and old alike, because it depicts "facts of life." While that may be true, times have changed, and I can't imagine anyone today describing this subtle and unsettling story as "family fare." Incredibly tame, on its face, by today's standards of sensory overload, its essential world-weariness and maturity is no longer a didactic priority in our age of overconfidence. Watching it recently, I was on guard for signs of the myth of the "noble savage"--the hackneyed, simplistic, and generally hypocritical pretension that pre-industrial and non-Western peoples are morally superior to decadent moderns, which is demeaning to both modern and "savage" alike. There are instances of it here--most notably when a couple of rifle-toting, four-wheeling hunters decimate the landscape--but the overall emphasis is on the parallels between aborigine and Western life. Even scenes of the transience and decay of modern civilization are mirrored by the life-and-death cycles of the wilderness. With so many underlying similarities, the real question is why the teenaged English girl cannot embrace, figuratively and literally, the young black man who has saved her life and provided so selflessly for her, even while her younger brother, in all his innocence, has never doubted that they are a family. Is it race? Culture? Or does it reach to more fundamental questions of boy and girl, man and woman, human and human? This film has held up remarkably well over the past 30 years, and is well worth a look.

Although this is a sound film, and the characters talk to one another, this film could have been made just as well in the 1920s. It does not really need sound.

The film is about nature, and man's relationship with it. If a civilised person were left out in the desert, then they would soon die. But, as this film shows, there are people and creatures living out there quite happily.

The film has been criticised for having a weak beginning and a weak end. But where does the story of this film start? And where and when would you end it? Yes you can end it when the two children get back to civilisation. But does the story end there? No. Because of their experiences, things are never going to be the same again. And for them, the story has not finished, it is only just beginning.

I have seen this film several times and I notice something different every time I see it.

I first remember seeing this film as a late teenager in about 1979. Therefore what most vividly stuck in my mind was the lead character played by a beautiful blonde English girl, Jenny Agutter, Specifically the nude scenes of her swimming and washing.

On a less superficial level it is a film with a point-something along the lines of the graciousness of Aborigines and their ability to live in harsh surrounds, and the destructive nature of suburban life in a flat in a major city.

I think it would be a film, like Jedda, that will always be on reference for the Australian Outback, Aboriginals and the modern society which brought a European civilisation to their land.

Superb cinematography, the Australian outback comes alive in this film of self discovery and regret. Agutter plays the English girl brilliantly, incapable of comprehending anybody or anything that doesn't conform to her middle-class values and upbringing. Roeg is also excellent as her brother, adapting to each and every change in circumstance as only children can. I have watched this movie many times, and always get something new from it. Highly recommended to anyone, although parents might want to watch it before letting their kids see it.