I hate to admit it, but the attempts to market Australia as the next Gone With The Wind with all that campy romance novel clinch have worked on me like hypnosis. I don't really care if the film is filled with enough shirtless Jackman to make Matthew McConaughey watch his back. And whatever, the overuse of the word "crikey" may seem like a misguided Steve Irwin tribute. I'm still there. Now I just have to convince my husband to come with me.