White Australian artistic expression has often been a hybrid of various external influences. A recent cinematic example is "Moulin Rouge" - Baz Luhrman's counter-intuitive, medley mash-up of musical and melodramatic segments, borrowed from other artists. "Goddess" may have found a wider audience had it adopted some of Luhrman's magpie muddle style. Laura Michelle Kelly plays a housewife, whose husband leaves her for long spells to care for their infant twin boys on an idyllic Tasmanian farm. Laura, a Londoner, and former professional singer, is so frustrated by her isolation that she takes to streaming herself (on the www), singing cabaret songs which describe her life. When Laura's performances attract the notice of a powerful agent (Magda Szubanski), Laura is whisked off to Sydney and turned into an internet star. Hubby, (Ronan Keating) an Irishman, who records whale songs in the Antarctic, stays at home to look after the kids...He resents the boot being on the other foot; conflict and hilarity ensue.This isn't an unusual scenario for a romantic comedy. It's fine; but this kind of high-gloss soufflé needs much more experienced hands to make it entertaining for 90 minutes. "Goddess" has its moments, but the problem is that it feels like a nice little vehicle with a two-stroke motor that's been given a limmo chassis and no V8 motor. Perhaps it started life as a one-woman cabaret show, on to which writers and producers have grafted all kinds of extras, which dwarf its original charm. The songs are... okay, and probably work well, in the intimacy of a cabaret, performed by someone who can reach out into the room and pull you into her world. Laura Michelle Kelly may be very charming on a stage. On film she tries too hard, she has too few expressions, which wear thin. The director also tries too hard, as do the choreographer and the costume designer. Many of the songs and the dances almost work. The songs haven't got the oomph that the 70s/80s Hollywood/Broadway staging tries to lend them; the choreography seems borrowed from a similar school; it's of the aerobic, try-hard variety, which seldom communicates any joy. Ronan Keating is fine, in an understated way, but he looks awkward. Magda S. (the first time I've found her only slightly funny) seems hampered by her English accent. (Why are the 3 main characters Anglos?). Nothing quite works. It may have been lovely film on a much more intimate scale. The photography is very pretty.