A Dream. A Lie. A Wager. Love.

So reads the promotional tag line of this new film by Australian proto-feminist filmmaker, Gillian Armstrong. Based upon the Booker Prize winning novel by Peter Carey, with a script by Laura Jones, Oscar and Lucinda has a pedigree that almost dooms it from the start to failure. With a director like Armstrong, fresh off her triumphant "Little Women" and a star like Fiennes, himself just coming off another Booker Prize winning phenomenon that was "The English Patient", audience expectations are bound to run high. Can the film at all hope to live up to, let alone exceed, these expectations? The happy answer can be summed by saying that if you only see ten films in a year, this most definitely must be one of them.

With a voice-over narration by Geoffrey Rush (whose voice is distinct and whose delivery is graceful), we are introduced to both Oscar and Lucinda as they are growing up. The son of a strict and devout Brethren minister, Oscar, growing up in England, first rebels by casting his lot with an Anglican minister, turning his back on a way of life he doesn't understand. Halfway across the world, Lucinda is raised as a free-spirited child of doting parents who encourage her love for glass. Over their respective turbulent childhoods, the two are painted, separately (and quite gracefully I may add) as soul-mates, independent-minded and fiercely passionate, albeit in very different ways. Lucinda grows up to be a young woman in possession of an uncommon wealth which cannot buy her the family and love she longs for, whilst Oscar becomes a young man fearful of all things, yet eager to try anything new. Whilst at a seminary, Oscar is introduced to gambling, and discovers a knack, a talent for the games. With abandon and tortured passion, he pursues his "vice", donating all he wins to charity, denying himself the pleasure of gambling in the name of God. Lucinda, meanwhile, takes up gambling as a means of self-destruction, but finds herself a natural, unable to lose at any hands. Through a circumstance of fate, the two kindred spirits meet and, soon, their passion for gambling unites them as friends, and much later, over time, as pining lovers. Oscar, however, fearful of the consequences of the pleasure loving Lucinda gives him, wages a final hand to win her love - transporting a glass church along a perilous route through the uncharted Australian outback; the stakes: each others' lives and inheritances….

One of the people I saw the film with was very perplexed and troubled by what he called "the whole point" of the story. I admit the plot itself cannot be easily explained, so caught up as it is with metaphors and allegories - the fragility of glass and faith, the permanence of love and God - but the film, nonetheless, provides a whole host of wondrous enjoyments. It is a handsomely made film, with Luciana Arrighi's production designs worth a special mention for their rich textures and details. Thomas Newman's score is rousing and typical of his usual high standard of work, and these two work well together to give the film a look and sound that is intimate and interesting to the viewer.

Armstrong has elicited two very fine performances from her two stars as well. Blanchett, relatively new to the big screen, plays Lucinda with a fiery spark of life that is always brimming just beneath her seemingly cool surface. The role really requires the brittle-ness of a young Judy Davis, but I found Blanchett admirable nonetheless. The way she assays Lucinda's duplicitous feelings and her cheeky spirit are well tempered by the bearing of breeding and class which she injects to the character in many subtle ways. Opposite her, Ralph Fiennes gives a performance which, in itself, is worth three times the price of admission. Much has been made of his casting, since the book actually describes Oscar as a "scarecrow" - all I can say is that people have little to complain about, really. Fiennes looks emaciated and he uses his body in a gangly, unseemly way, emphasizing Oscar's awkwardness with life and people. His performance is amusing and passionate, and I predict this will win him many more fans (can there be more, though, one wonders). His picture of a shy, yet arduous, man who is simultaneously fearful of, and at odds with, his desires, is beautifully nuanced and subtle, and exhilarating to watch. Both stars respond very well to Armstrong's technique, and this has resulted in a very well-made film. Armstrong manages to balance the dense imagery and the heavy underlying themes of the story with the light touch required for the budding romance at the center of the film, and the film is often surprising and ultimately satisfying.

Come Academy Award time, the film may not shore up statuettes (its a little too independent in spirit to appeal to the voters), but the time you spend in the darkened theater with Oscar and Lucinda will yield more satisfaction than whatever overblown film they choose to reward. Trust me.