Written & Directed by: Greg McLean
Cast: John Jarratt, Cassandra Magrath, Kestie Morassi, & Nathan Phillips
Runtime: 104 min.
Rating: Unrated
Trailer

Continuing the tradition of gruesome horror disguised as popcorn entertainment, Greg McLean’s debut film, Wolf Creek, picks up the horror baton left behind by the likes of Audition, The Hills Have Eyes, The Devil’s Rejects, Hostel, and of course, the ubiquitous Texas Chainsaw Massacre (the original and the remake). What it lacks in originality and subtlety, Wolf Creek makes up for in its twisted sense of gratuitous indifference, as a group of young friends take an ill-fated road trip through the Australian Outback and stumble across the path of a psychotic, murderous outdoorsman. Was there a more disturbing horror film released in 2005 than this one? Hostel has nothing on it, if only because Hostel’s self-reflexive winking at the camera tamed its overall impact. With Wolf Creek, however, the response to the characters’ jeopardy is immediate, thanks in part to the hand-held digital photography creating an organic, believable world, like watching home video tapes of some long lost vacation just uncovered. Liz Hunter (Cassandra Magrath) and her friend Kristy Earl (Kestie Morassi), two young Brits on vacation in Australia, meet up with Ben Mitchell, a kind-hearted jock, and setoff on a road trip through the bush. During the setup, which is long by conventional horror standards, McLean takes his time establishing the quirks, personalities, and relationship between all three. Kristy, it seems, has a crush on Ben, but she does not say it outright, her batting eyelashes and infectious grin send the signals. Typically, in the slasher genre, Kristy and Ben would have been naked in a swimming pool faster than you can say, “Look out behind you!”, but here, McLean stages the consummation in a large asteroid crater during a quiet rainstorm, where Kristy and Ben simply exchange quick glances at each other and awkwardly kiss each other for the first time. The smiles and satisfaction on their faces at the end of the kiss makes it hard not to root for them. It is not all rose petals and romance for our plucky young group, though; McLean’s insistence on cutting back to shots of an idyllic beach, a setting sun buried behind an ever-growing number of mountain ranges, and, of all things, a lunar eclipse, constantly reminds the viewer on the ominous, isolated setting. When their watches curiously fail to keep time and their car fails to start, stranding them at Wolf Creek crater, appearing out of a black night like some foreign entity from deep space, arrives Mick Taylor (John Jarratt), an Australian bushman and hunter, who tows the car back to an abandoned mine and makeshift campsite. When Kristy suddenly wakes to find that she is bloody and locked in a shack, Wolf Creek’s masquerade as a simple road-trip movie is eviscerated and left for dead. The torture scenes, with Liz and Mick specifically, are especially disturbing and hard to watch when captured through a voyeuristic camera, peaking and scuttling around window frames and oil drums trying to offer up the best view possible. More disturbing than it is scary, the film succumbs to conventional horror standards during its last half when it relies on some old standbys: a chase sequence with an armed, crazed killer nearby; the frantic delay in getting a car started; the narrow escapes and false getaways. Regardless of the film’s origin, which is reportedly based on a true story, there is only so much misery tolerable before it all becomes tedious.

Richard X
© Cinephile Magazine, 2006