Hans Petter Moland's The Beautiful Country -- about a Vietnamese war baby's troubled trip to America -- is enough to make The Odyssey seem like a 10-minute ferry ride. Such an epic undertaking might seem tedious if it weren't so visually arresting. Cinematographer Stuart Dryburgh's vibrant use of colour and texture ensures that The Beautiful Country feels as sprawling and magnificent as the countries it depicts.

Binh (Damien Nguyen) is the son of a Vietnamese woman and an American GI. As a result, he has been ostracized his entire life in Vietnam. After being implicated in the death of a rich woman, Binh flees to Texas to find his father (Nick Nolte, who fits the role). Along the way, the character endures a Malaysian refugee camp and indentured servitude in New York in exchange for his trans-Pacific passage.

Things don't get much better from there. In fact, The Beautiful Country could be broken down into about five feature-length films. Moland lets Binh ramble on, experiencing hardship after hardship until the main feeling evoked in the viewer isn't sadness or sympathy, but fatigue. Perhaps this is the most effective route -- moviegoers are a weak bunch who cry every time the short kid gets to play in the basketball championships. Maybe a movie needs to wear us out in order to leave a lasting impression.

This is not to suggest that there are no tears shed. The Beautiful Country has its share of cornball lines, like when Binh's prostitute love interest confesses "I already dead inside," and Nguyen overdoes his puppy dog glances during the film's opening. Nevertheless, as the story grows overwhelming, his performance becomes increasingly nuanced.

The star of the film, however, is Dryburgh, whose cinematography vividly contrasts the glistening moisture of Vietnam with the dusty dryness of west Texas.