An intelligent thriller is a rare thing these days, at least on the evidence of this well-intentioned but pedestrian story of nuclear paranoia and bureaucratic conspiracy, in which an innocent Australian cameraman uncovers a few radioactive skeletons in the closet of his country's atomic testing program. The Aussie government apparently has been hiding the details about native Aborigine victims of radiation fallout, but because the secret is out at the beginning of the movie there's no surprise and very little suspense: each new development in the already linear plot is introduced in sequence, with handy cues of ominous music to help viewers connect the dots. The script relies too much on convenient expository bulletins (television news broadcasts; telephone answering machine messages; home movies and so forth), and identifies too strongly with its hero, who like any unassuming TV cameraman is transformed into James Bond when under stress. A strong cast and attractive wide screen photography can't hide the wasted opportunity to expose an ugly true story and turn it into compelling fiction.
