The little film that could from Oz arrives on our shores weighed down with prizes and expectation. Its record haul of 13 awards at the Australian equivalent of the Oscars (the AFIs) and a handful of other independent prizes suggest this is something very special. But while theres no denying that Somersault is different and visually impressive enough to make an impact, its also so wrapped up in its own theory and imagery that it ends up as cold as the ski resort in which it is set.
It does makes for a welcome change from the brash, sun-baked comedies
weve come to expect of Australia. The frosty palate of icy blues and whites suits its detached heroine, who strives for intimacy by indulging in a string of sexual encounters that skirt on the edge of danger. Newcomer Abbie Cornish is undeniably impressive and her preternatural sex appeal on full display, with her characters tendency to throw her mittens aside at even the briefest hint of a shag leaving her exposed in every way for much of the film.
But whats missing, apart from her clothes, is any sort of development for Heidi, while other characters (notably Sam Worthingtons confused rancher) are only just beginning to start their personal journeys when the film finishes.