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</script></div>{/googleAds}Imagine a red wash of dawn stretching across the Australian outback. A lean figure stiff with purpose - emerges against the desolation of the desert-like conditions. Sweat bleeds through the hatband of his cowboy hat and outlines his square features. The young man works against the land of New South Wales not as one in tune with his surroundings and his frustration at the task is audible until he hears the rhythm in his own work; the drumming of his manual efforts tool banging post driven by flesh and bone - and suddenly pauses. There is real music here. The rhythm of this music a symphony he now hears - guides his hand; these are the skilled hands of an artist a dreamer, not a worker. With the agile passion that only the youth can afford, the young man imagines being surrounded - not by the bleating sheep around his skinny legs by skilled musicians playing instruments of magnificent sound. It is with this vision on a barren landscape, void of any foreseeable human aspirations other than the one we are witness to, where Broken Hill begins; it is a philosophical landscape shared by the late Kurt Vonnegut. Vonnegut, famed humanist and American author, once confessed that his â"only proof of the existence of god was music" and, with its absolutely inspirational score, it seems the makers of Broken Hill share Vonnegut's sentiment. Dagen Merrill, Broken Hill's writer and director, has fashioned a crowd-pleasing narrative in the style of Billy Elliot that, despite a few loose ends and missed opportunities, manages to be an engaging and effortlessly charming movie.

Broken Hill tells the story of Tommy McAlpine (Luke Arnold) who was born with the drive, the imagination, and the ear for all things music. Unfortunately, his father (Timothy Hutton in another strong performance) has other plans for him on the family's drought-ridden sheep station. When Tommy repeatedly fails to impress his father with his talents, he seeks acceptance by attempting to charm his new American classmate, Kat (Alexa Vega), and finds only trouble with the local police department. Escaping jail time through serving community service at the local prison, Tommy and Kat discover a forgotten choir program. Tommy, seeing a chance to make something out of nothing, channels all his energy into teaching the prisoners the fine art of performing music lessons that culminate in one performance that could make or break him.

Brilliantly shot on location by Nick Matthews, the scenic semi-desert environments captured by the camera add to the rustic charm of the narrative contributing more in the vanquished attitudes of the area and its people where the prisoners in Broken Hill seem more alive than its citizens than as a showcase for the actions of the narrative. Only a couple of scenes seem false, one involving a conversation between Tommy and Kat one on a speeding motorcycle and the other in a speeding sports car seems as if it was actually ripped out of John Woo's abysmal Mission Impossible 2 and, while fueled by octane and excitement, seems decisively out of place for an emotionally-charged coming-of-age story.

Ultimately, what keeps this feature from being structurally complete is a conclusion that omits a clear and satisfying finish for some of its minor characters. Sure, we get to see Tommy and Kat's grand finale, but there is so much time and effort spent on the minor characters that the audience becomes invested in their well-being, too. There seems to be an outlined development of suspicious activity from the warden activity that includes the recovery of missing diamonds - but no clear follow-through. As a result, only nagging questions remain for the audience. Also, a couple of the prisoners' stories appear seemingly fragmented for I suspect the sake of time; however, Tommy's world as presented on-screen begs for a clear resolution for these characters as their support of his music is one of unquestioned faith and, yet, suspicions remain concerning their true intentions.

While there are plenty of missed opportunities, there are also several great successes. From Tommy's wheelchair-bound friend, Scott Price (Rhys Wakefield) to the original three prisoners that come to Tommy and Kat's choir practice, all as charming as they are curious and add a level of interest in the narrative as their stories are threaded onto the screen. However, there is one huge misfire with one of the prisoners, Kalai (Che Timmins), that could have been resolved with a couple of scenes clarifying his intentions as he is a dynamic character and, as such, is always earning the audience's (and camera's) attention even when he is simply playing an instrument in the prison choir. It is unfortunate that his story is left completely unresolved as the film nears its conclusion.

In a world as bitter the one we live in, Broken Hill comes along at full steam assailing our jaded expectations with the sound of drummers marching out-of-step with even their own flailing sticks. Its storyline is unapologetically sugary but never too sweet - and full of a trust that comes only from the back pages of our own youth. Writer/director Dagen Merrill seems to calling us out of our adult daze and with fingers crossed invites us to hear the music Tommy hears.