A sentimental and heart wrenching story of a fathers enduring love for his sons, The Water Diviner is also a risky endeavour for director and star Russell Crowe, whose attempt to level the “Gallipoli legend” playing field proving to be both divisive and irksome.

When reflecting upon The Water Diviner, this critic cannot help but compare the behind the scenes and narrative themes to Dances with Wolves, a film directed by a superstar actor (Kevin Costner) in which after a great war its main protagonist befriends those who were once his enemies.

But that is where the comparisons end. While The Water Diviner is well meaning to a fault and features moments of brilliance, star and director Russell Crowe just cannot boost his passion project through the sludge of liberal guilt that consumes the film whole.

Written by Andrew Knight and Andrew Anastasios, The Water Diviner is set in the aftermath of the 1915 Battle of Gallipoli, in which allied forces failed to invade the Ottoman Empire (Turkey), with mass casualties on both sides. Among them are the three sons of widowed Australian farmer Connor (Russell Crowe), who travels to Gallipoli on a quest to find the remains of his sons and give them a proper burial.

With a career filled with tough guy roles and a notorious reputation that precedes him, there is a certain expectation when it comes to Russell Crowe. Yet much like Clint Eastwood before him, Crowe shows a softer side to his personality through his filmmaking that is surprising and welcome, yet at times irksome.

What is delivered upon expectation is Crowe’s handling of the war scenes, told in flashbacks that startle with their savagery, tragedy and heartbreak. A scene where Connor’s three sons (Ryan Corr, James Fraser and Ben O’Toole) lay fatally wounded in mourning defeat on the bloody ground where thousands were cut down before them, will be remembered as one of the most confronting and gut wrenching in the rich annals of war movies.

It’s the moments in The Water Diviner that depicts an anguished father who will stop at nothing to find his slain children that shine the most. Yet it’s also the moments where Crowe’s bleeding heart leads his narrative into overtly sensitive territory that neuters the films overall effect.

Where similar movies such as the previously mentioned Dances with Wolves and Edward Zwick’s The Last Samurai expertly and methodically portrayed the integration of a man into the bosom of his nation’s enemy, Crowe’s attempts to do the same is done so with the subtlety of a sledgehammer.

This is especially true in Crowe’s enamoured take on his Turkish characters, who are depicted in almost majestic light when compared to others. Where Turkish soldiers are portrayed only as honourable men of almost mystic quality, Crowe switches tactics in his representation of Greek soldiers as grubby bandits of little morals. A visit by Connor to Istanbul’s famed Mosque is given lavish clout, yet the one depiction of a Christian clergyman is in the form of a hypocritical, twitching, sneering Catholic priest (Damon Herriman) in a plain as vanilla church.

Then there is the prospective romance between Connor and Alyshe (Olga Kurylenko), a widowed mother who befriends Connor during his quest, in an absurd plot development suited to a Hollywood production.

Crowe does give it the good ol’ go in The Water Diviner. No doubt influenced by his frequent collaborations with Ridley Scott and Ron Howard (fine filmmakers with grand visions), Crowe brings to the Australian cinema the type of large scale, old school movie making that is not seen enough, while also providing a quiet strength in the form of a heartbreaking lead performance that grounds the film.

Yet increasingly silly scenarios and contrived depictions of certain characters see’s The Water Diviner lose its place and throw away its potential to be a great film, instead of the good yet could have been better work that was delivered. Hopefully when Crowe decides to give directing another shot, he will decide not to bring with him that stinking distraction of political correctness.