Faraway Downs doesn't entirely fix the criticism of white saviorism that Australia received. That would’ve been an impossible feat given Lady Sarah's character. That said, the series spends more time with the Aboriginal characters and expands on their origin story and aspirations, rather than casting them to the wayside. Overall, the series transforms the lukewarm drama into the grand epic that Luhrmann originally set out to make.

In both the film and series, this approach risks romanticizing the experience of Aboriginals while keeping the central love story teetering on the edge of schmaltz. Faraway Downs’s ending goes partway toward remedying the latter, but fails to adequately address the former.

What a waste of an excellent reframing of Australia into an improved Faraway Downs. So to salvage this misbegotten adventure into absurdity, I suggest you watch Faraway Downs only until the midpoint of “Chapter 6” and then press stop.

“Faraway Downs” does lessen the bombast. Ultimately, however, while more time for scenes to breathe does offer a smoother experience, Luhrmann’s new iteration enlarges but never really enlightens the same grandiose saga. At least, not to any degree that will change your mind about either version of this dusty, sun-baked vision.

The complexities of real Indigenous culture escape Luhrmann. Still, this is old-fashioned storytelling, with all the strengths and weaknesses that term implies. Luhrmann is a showman who revels in his own extravagance. Sometimes you’re in the mood for that.

While the series boasts easily digestible sections running 45 minutes or less, the disappointing elements plaguing “Australia” remain the same.

[Luhrmann's] instinct towards grandeur for grandeur’s sake leads him to neglect the tiny nuances that make stories sing. The film already felt like a misjudged exercise in maximalism. The series it has spawned is as vast and empty as the country it explores. Size isn’t everything.