I'd much rather be stung by a thousand dung beetles (do those critters sting?) while up to my neck in raw faeces in the middle of a hot and humid African jungle than have to endure another viewing of this awful movie.

Well! Now that I've gotten *that* off my chest, allow me, kind reader, to expound.

After "The Piano", that most enchanting of movies, I became a Campion fan and couldn't wait for her next offering. I guess this is a case of being careful what you wish for. Holy Smoke is the complete antithesis of The Piano in every regard from "interesting story" to "great scenery."

While I recognize her zeal for exploring the off-beat and zany, this story has little to recommend it. The story begins somewhere in India, wanders over to somewhere in Australia and finally ends up rather ignominiously somewhere in the Australian outback (ugh) and is replete with such themes as the search for enlightenment, muscle-bound idiots, antlers on speeding cars, Old vs. Young, Man vs. Woman, Tom Cruise and Matt Damon-inspired adultery, attempted rape, battery and, get this, self-urination! If that doesn't give you a feeling of how haphazard the movie is, I don't know what will.

Where there are indeed many parts of the story that border on funny and is sometimes even thought-provoking, the overall feel of this movie is as arid as the Outback. One gets the feeling that the writers' only goal was to shock as many of us viewers as possible in one big swoop down. Walking out of the theater made me feel like a cute, innocent rabbit (Ahem!) who was suddenly been plucked out of some idyllic field by a terrible eagle on it's way to being fed to the eaglets.

Oh! And seeing Keitel's be-pimpled butt didn't help much either. Say, Jane, get off the hashish! :-)