"In Australia, when an Aborigine man-child reaches sixteen, he is sent out into the land. For months he must live from it. Sleep on it. Eat of its fruit and flesh. Stay alive. Even if it means killing his fellow creatures. The Aborigines call it the WALKABOUT. This is the story of a 'WALKABOUT'." Thus begins Nicolas Roeg's 1971 debut feature, "Walkabout", one of the most beautiful, mystical, and magical film I've had the privilege of seeing as a filmgoer. Seeing it again recently on the beautiful Criterion edition DVD, I was once more captivated by this film as it slowly worked its magic on me. The "plot" of "Walkabout" is simplicity itself: a teenage girl (Jenny Agutter) and her little brother (the director's son in real life, Lucien John Roeg--billed "Lucien John" on the credits) are stranded on an Australian outback as their father, who took them out for a picnic, suddenly and inexplicably commits suicide. The two of them are thus left wandering by themselves and it looks as if they will die in the vast wilderness--until they encounter an Aborigine boy who is on his "walkabout," an Aborigine rite of passage into manhood. For a time these kids travel together as a trio and the Aborigine's skills in hunting and finding water allow them to survive. And although the girl and her brother will eventually find their way back to civilization, for a brief unspecified length of time the exotic Australian outback becomes a wondrous and mystical place where their story of survival unfolds. If you've seen this film, you know that the brief synopsis above doesn't really touch what is so special about "Walkabout." And that is because "Walkabout" isn't really about plot, like more conventional films. It is one of those rare films like Peter Weir's "Picnic at Hanging Rock," Terrence Malick's "Days of Heaven," and Wim Wender's "Wings of Desire" which are all about evoking a kind of sad and bittersweet emotional response from us. I think that is what "Walkabout" is mostly about. The overall impact of this film "hits you in the heart" and very impressionable viewers might be stirred in their emotions to the point of swooning in the scene at the end where the girl, now a married woman, remembers her idyllic days happily swimming in one of the outback's water holes Nicolas Roeg was not only the director of "Walkabout" but also its cinematographer. And his photography in this film is unbearably beautiful and sumptuous. "Walkabout" is without a doubt one of the most gorgeous color films ever made. Shot on location in the Australian outback--perhaps one of the most exotic places on earth--"Walkabout" has a visual grandeur that is reminiscent of passages from David Lean's "Lawrence of Arabia" and John Ford's "The Searchers." Never has the "voodoo of location shooting" (as Werner Herzog likes to call it) been more manifest than in this film. In fact, the exotic and unique location in which it was shot, coupled with Roeg's masterful cinematography, feels like one of the main characters in "Walkabout." The film's location adds a mystical (almost spiritual) and meditative dimension to it which lingers in the viewer's mind--haunting it long after the film is over. If Roeg's photography is one of the film's main characters, so is John Barry's legendary and justly famous score. Maybe it's the harp used in the score, or the subtle billowing quality of its composition (i.e. the way its beautiful melody gently builds and builds),but the music in this film simply soars. It moves me like no other score I've ever heard. It feels completely transcendent, as if it exists outside time and space altogether--but gently swooping down from time to time, "kissing" this film's images with aching sweetness. All of the above elements work together to form a film-viewing experience that inspires both beauty and awe in us. The film's message is not necessarily that life in the outback is better than life in a modern civilization, but that no matter where you happen to find yourself (even if that happens to be a wilderness like the Australian outback),if you have resources that meet your basic needs, it can become your "home" for a time. And that afterwards there is bitter-sweetness in reminiscing about those "good times" you were fortunate enough to have--to which you can never return again.

"Walkabout" is a film that begins with no real context and the characters NEVER have any names nor do you really learn much about them other than they are English. A man takes two kids (one about 6 years-old and the other practically an adult) into the Australian outback for a picnic. However, inexplicably, he tries to kill them and then kills himself. The pair (you're not even positive they are siblings) are forced to fend for themselves---two city kids in the middle of no where. Eventually, an Aboriginal teen on his 'walkabout' (a rite of passage into adulthood) meets them and saves them. Then, he helps them find their way back to white civilization, though the way back is very circuitous.

"Walkabout" is a pretty good movie. The scenery from the outback was very nice and the film was quite the interesting adventure. Considering we do NOT have wombats, kangaroos, wild budgies and the like here in the US, it was nice to see all this as well as learn about Aboriginals. Now I am not saying it's a great film, as it's very thin on story and seems to meander quite a bit--especially when they kind of make it back to civilization...kind of. Its resolution at this point was very slow in coming and the kids found white folks but didn't seem keen on asking them to call the police or some other authorities and this made no sense at all. Also, I did get tired of all the shots of animals being consumes by flies and maggots as well as the meat slicing clips. I got the imagery but felt it was occasionally driven home way too hard--subtle, it wasn't. But, on balance it is well done and worth seeing.

Finally, I have one thing about the movie that did bother me a lot. There is a very, very long and unnecessary nude scene with the girl (Jenny Agutter). While Agutter was about 18 when the film was shot, her character's age seemed about 16. I don't know how old the Aboriginal guy was supposed to be, but the little boy did a couple brief nude scenes. And so, I am worried that pedophiles might REALLY, REALLY enjoy this film. Perhaps I am sensitive since I used to be a psychotherapist who worked with sexual abuse victims--though I do think filmmakers need to think about these things.

I first saw WALKABOUT at an impressionable age and it has stayed with me ever since, not least for its haunting scenes of animal killing and desolation in the Australian outback. WALKABOUT, Nicolas Roeg's masterful exploration of Australia and the people who inhabit it, is one of the most visually stunning films ever made.

Roeg brings the harshness of the environment to life in a series of devastating shots that reveal the true heart of the country. His is a world of scorched deserts littered with the corpses of hunted creatures and inhabited by only the brave or foolhardy. In many ways, this is a horror film, bookended by gruesome death and yet containing some moments of pure joy within.

The plot is simple: a schoolgirl and her younger brother are lost in the Outback and forced to fend for themselves in a hostile environment. Along the way, they meet up with an Aborigine (played by David Gulpilil, giving a truly great performance of real depth) and the rest of the film chronicles their adventures.

Roeg uses this as a basis to explore numerous themes, from the plight of the oppressed indigenous peoples to the contrast between civilisation and the wilderness (to give you a clue, one is utterly condemned and the other fully embraced). Agutter plays a prim and proper character but Lucien John Roeg is excellent as the boy and as previously mentioned, Gulpilil steals every scene he's in. WALKABOUT is one of my favourite films and a real visual experience that transcends cinematic boundaries to become a work of pure art.