This fantastic little film has it all. I first saw this movie as a child many years ago when it came to the theatres. I mostly remembered the slapstick and otherwise off-the-wall humor. These elements are akin to the wild and racy tannins of a young syrah (sorry, filmed in Australia, so Shiraz). Watching it again, I saw it in a different light and have now decided this is a finesse movie as much as a rollicking comedy. The gentle nature of the primitive Kalahari bushman was like the velvet finish of a burgundy I could never afford. And the rescue of Xi by the two whities was no less uplifting than the feeling of ecstasy when a French wine actually lives up to the price. Some have complained about the stereotyping of natives and the over-the-top, lecturing narrative. For them, I must employ the ultimate scholarly counterargument—whatever! And my God, what is the world coming to when an Australian can’t be a racist?