Like so many Australian films, Ruben Guthrie is thin, shallow and populated by caricatures who never really threaten to turn into fully formed characters. For a few moments here and there I thought - more hoped - that it might prove to be a serious and scathing look at Australian drinking culture. And there's one scene where there is a momentary suggestion that it might have something provocative to say about the dubious cult that is Alcoholics Anonymous (and its even more dubious success rate). But no. Ruben Guthrie not only has nothing new to say, its notions of how alcohol is viewed in Australia seem a good twenty or thirty years out of date. To give but one example: everyone in Ruben's life - his boss, his father, his best mate, his mother - refuses to take his decision to quit alcohol seriously, refuses to really accept that alcoholism could be his problem; indeed, they all actively insist he snap out of it and have another drink. Yes - just like it isn't the 21st century, educated middle-class people aren't acutely aware of the dangers of alcohol, and parents, employers or best friends never respect someone's decision not to drink. This is also a film crammed with the kind of faux-dramatic gestures beloved by writers who can't actually generate genuine drama through actual conflict. At various points Ruben smashes a bottle against his mirrored home bar, throws his mobile phone into the harbour and rips his laptop into pieces... as people almost never do in real life. All this and - just for good measure - an annoying and offensive gay stereotype mincingly played by Alex Dimitriades. The direction is distractingly show- offy at times, befitting a film that is all surface and no substance. Yet again one is left wondering what the film funding bodies saw in the script that convinced them it was worth spending the nation's money on.
