This is not one of my favorite films. Here, as in his other works, Peter Weir could have been more effective if he could manage to control his visual hyperbole. How the camera caresses and lingers; particularly embarasing when the subject matter doesn't amount to anything more than a wide-eyed innocence.
The homo-erotic charge between Gibson and Lee actually lends the film some counter-measure against the cliches of idealized youth. Odd that so many male viewers seem oblivious of it. Once you do recognize the homosexual undertone, however, it is interesting to gauge your own reaction to it. For instance, one can write a book about a male audience's response to the treatment of Lee's cheerful boyish character, who becomes objectified into a desirable sexual prey, which is precisely how women have been traditionally portrayed by Hollywood. It's a shame if one misses the irony here.
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