Thirty-six years ago, David Gulpilil, a fiercely charismatic young Aboriginal actor, personified the human spirit untamed opposite Jenny Agutter's emotionally repressed schoolgirl in Nic Roeg's great Walkabout, writes Donald Clarke
Brilliant as that film was, it did, perhaps, fall into the trap of representing the native wanderer as an archetypal noble savage.
Ten Canoes, a singularly seductive slice of Australian folk cinema, sees no need to contrast the habits of its Aboriginal heroes with those of less spiritually responsive whites. Following two distinct groups of rovers as they progress through the bush, the picture, set some centuries in the past, allows the characters to define themselves entirely through their relations to one another. Some are selfish. Some are brave. Almost all are desperately funny.
All this makes Ten Canoes sound worthy and pompous - like an effusion of the Australasian Cultural Commission. The film is, in fact, a delicious entertainment made with consummate skill. Imagine Apocalypto without the beheadings and you're halfway there.
The storyteller begins by introducing us to 10 men wandering the bush in search of wood from which to fashion canoes. One of the warriors, the chief's younger brother, lusts after the younger of his superior's wives and, when he makes this clear, is regaled with a story from distant times that demonstrates the virtues of patience.
The first tale is shot in colour, the second in black and white, and in both cinematographer Ian Jones unveils damp, seductive splendours to compare with anything previously seen in Aussie cinema. The film is also to be commended for the wealth of fascinating anthropological detail - learning about medieval Australian boating has never been less taxing.
None of this would matter a jot if the stories were not worth attending to. Thankfully, Rolf de Heer, born in The Netherlands and long resident in Australia, demonstrates a keen talent for allowing gesture and tone to forward the action. A sequel seems unlikely, but one could imagine worse things than Eleven Canoes.