Sensitive film does lack brilliance and, to some degree, narrative structure, but is nevertheless superbly shot and performed. However, the narrative structure point is debatable. While it gives the impression of tying off loose ends nicely in the final scenes, and connects its thoughts with what might be described by the modern viewer as a "story", I'm sceptical as to whether this feel *needs* a "narrative structure" that is definite and detectable. Inevitably, it will be compared with SOMERSAULT in that its central protagonist (I'm not sure that's the correct word!) is a young, and very young-looking, woman, whose newly discovered sexuality both confuses and empowers her - although of course Cate Shortland's film tackles this aspect better. But while the possibility exists for reckless viewers to dismiss this film as a cliché, PEACHES is, in some ways, much more ambitious than SOMERSAULT. Perhaps that's where it doesn't quite make it. It's certainly very different to Monahan's first feature - THE INTERVIEW! I'm not quite sure how the sex scenes between Weaving and Lung added to the story. Who knows - maybe they did. They certainly rammed home the compromised and flawed nature of Weaving's character - although I personally think this was achieved without the need for these scenes.
*****JUST SAW THE FILM AGAIN*********
On a second viewing, I can see how some would dismiss it as a telemovie dressed up as a feature. But I'm not sure how distinct these 'categories' are anymore, or even if we should be making that distinction. In any case, I do think there are enough layers in the film to distinguish it from Hallmark efforts. On the other hand, the film's structure is very formal, and its content is hardly challenging,at least in the way SOMERSAULT, TOM WHITE, THREE DOLLARS, THE ILLUSTRATED FAMILY DOCTOR, LOOK BOTH WAYS and THE HUMAN TOUCH are. The performances are all good, but I did come to the realisation that the main reason I was enjoying the film was because it fit the "Australian" genre, without necessarily adding anything...and I can understand that this can be a fairly good reason for another person *NOT* to like it! Indeed, it wasn't until Lung enters the room in her Vietnamese dress that the film really begins to pack a punch. But that leads us into another debate - *should* we expect that a film must challenge us all the time? Certainly I enjoy being challenged by a film (or a book, or other people), but is there no room anymore for what is simply a nice story?
I haven't deleted my initial post on this film, because I'm all too aware of the Orwellian overtones of such an act. But I would downgrade my initial rating from an 8 to perhaps a 6.5.
As for nominations for AFI Best Film, my votes go to THE HUMAN TOUCH, THREE DOLLARS and LOOK BOTH WAYS - and I think LOOK BOTH WAYS should win.

Sadly,this is not 'the best British gore film since hellraiser', though the DVD cover claims this, which is what tricked me into buying it. It is, however, an homage to many of the great horrors of old, films from most notably the Amicus stable.
Cradle... is shot on mini dv, which though we all know has more of a TV feel than a movie, can be done so much better. Every scene, set and shot looks like it has been lit in exactly the same way (standard key, fill, rear setup), which only enhances the cheap look of the finished piece. The gore content is, quite frankly, laughable. From the opening shots where we see a man's obviously foam rubber head torn apart, through to tacky cheap prop hammers, the creature effects and the terrible cg, there was nothing in there that impressed me at all.
The acting is abominable, from the near-comatose detective to the brummie dwarf, via Dani Filth, the least convincing horror movie bad guy I have ever witnessed. Each of the substories is more formulaic than the last, and the sets get worse and worse as the movie runs. Look out for the 'Mental Asylum' - a Georgian semi detached house with a bad cg sign outside, and the most bizarre (and not in a good way) padded cell I have seen.
It took me four attempts to get to the end of the film without my attention wandering (nay, running) away at any available opportunity. I actually found myself dusting at one point while the film was running.
It does, however, mark one of the last known appearances of Emily Booth's breasts, which I guess is one (um, two) things it has going for it. Once that's out of the way though, it is all downhill.
I've heard people say good things about Alex Chandon, and I would love to believe them, but on this evidence I'm not likely to. If you want a decent homage to Amicus, avoid this and go for the League of Gentlemen Christmas special instead.
Currently battling it out with Blair Witch 2: Book of Shadows for the title of worst film I have ever seen.