There's a-feuding and a-fussing and a-fighting in Netflix's documentary "Last Stop Larrimah," population eleven, minus one, all in all, a homey expose of the simple pleasures in the land-down-under: beer, meat pies, the great outdoors, beer, man's best friend, and deep-rooted, festering, personal animosities.
In a way, the outback is Australia's badlands, where life is close to the land until it's eventually underneath it. For some, like local eccentric, Paddy Moriarty, whose head meets with a hammer, maybe too soon.
There's larceny in the heartland, so it seems, and intense loathing, bitterness, heaps of grudges and accusations, but worst of all, insanity where there ought to be sanctuary. The inhabitants of misery's reward, this narcoleptic watering hole, have forsaken modesty and a shirt, to air their petty grievances, with some reluctant remorse, over the course of five years. Wasted effort, it seems, for a lot of ornery Aussies, one transplanted Irishman, and a dog.
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