"Bullamakanka," long entrenched in Aussie slang as the mythical township located at the furthest commutable point of the outback, the end of the line, the event-horizon of bush fable. Beyond Bullamakanka lay the "dreamtime" and precious little else.
So much for folklore. Here we have the movie which set Australian film- making back a decade when it was released with considerably less fanfare than a new addition to the menu at KFC! Low budget, doesn't adequately cover it. Rumor has it that the cast and crew were making their own sandwiches on-set during the last week of filming, only director Heath was able to afford a Big Mac!
The plot, such that it isn't, concerns the machinations and intricacies incumbent upon a mayoral campaign-drive in Bullamakanka leading up to the local elections. The voters are restless, corruption in high places has the local populace outraged. Too bad then that the Boy Scouts Association there are up to their badges in an illegal still operation.
Unfortunately for the creators, this intended laugh-fest fell flat on its projector and barely made enough money to cover the cost of the tea lady. This brain-dead movie has less than nothing to recommend it. An embarrassment actually to even admit having watched it. One may also wonder what possessed respected thespian Frank Thring to agree to appear in it. From Pontius Pilate in BEN HUR to pompous porky in BULLAMAKANKA is indeed one small step for credibility and one giant step to retirement.
So much for folklore. Here we have the movie which set Australian film- making back a decade when it was released with considerably less fanfare than a new addition to the menu at KFC! Low budget, doesn't adequately cover it. Rumor has it that the cast and crew were making their own sandwiches on-set during the last week of filming, only director Heath was able to afford a Big Mac!
The plot, such that it isn't, concerns the machinations and intricacies incumbent upon a mayoral campaign-drive in Bullamakanka leading up to the local elections. The voters are restless, corruption in high places has the local populace outraged. Too bad then that the Boy Scouts Association there are up to their badges in an illegal still operation.
Unfortunately for the creators, this intended laugh-fest fell flat on its projector and barely made enough money to cover the cost of the tea lady. This brain-dead movie has less than nothing to recommend it. An embarrassment actually to even admit having watched it. One may also wonder what possessed respected thespian Frank Thring to agree to appear in it. From Pontius Pilate in BEN HUR to pompous porky in BULLAMAKANKA is indeed one small step for credibility and one giant step to retirement.