Herzog Down Under initially invokes banal effigies of the sunburnt country, as in his juxtapositions: sound of didgeridoos against machinery, demountables amidst rock formations, individual v. conglomerate. Savour, rather than critique the contrasts, otherwise an effortless infusion of poetry through image and sound (conjoining Roeg’s Walkabout) - or even, the compelling grey area between the culture clash, over the black-and-white of two sides caught against. That the issue remains charged to this day says something in the way of so-called progress.
Everything in the outback is interesting, wonderfully photographed, and if you can stand some laconic pacing and dijerdoo's enjoyable enough. The best image in the film is the supermarket the aboriginal men sit in to dream up their children, because it was positioned directly on top of the only place they can dream their children up. It's pretty clear that this is the fate to befall the place the ants dream the world into bieng, and by the time we get the court speeches it really loses most of it's steam. The scientist "going native" at the end, and abandoning his possesions was just as tedious and forced, in an otherwise interesting film about people sitting around in the desert talking(which I liked).