WOLF CREEK Reviewed by Harvey S. Karten
The Weinstein Company
Grade: B
Directed by: Greg Mclean
Written by: Greg Mclean
Cast: John Jarratt, Cassandra Magrath, Andy McPhee, Kestie
Morassi, Guy Petersen, Nathan Phillips, Gordon Poole
Screened at: Broadway, NYC, 12/8/05 What could become a doozy of an ad campaign for Cingular mobile phones would be the bane for the Australian Tourist Board. “Wolf Creek,” a surprisingly effective first feature by writer-director Greg Mclean, will not only keep you on the edge of your seat. It could forever stop you from criticizing the hordes of cell phone users who intrude into our private space with their endless, banal chatter. For that matter it will make you feel best when you’re with those same hordes, assured that you have more chance of being splattered by a sociopath on a deserted road in Australia’s boonies than of being pushed onto the tracks of New York’s fast-moving “A” train. Mclean punctuates his film with a scary opening note on the screen. Each year 30,000 Australians go missing. Almost none are found. Heck! I didn’t know there were that many people on the whole antipodean continent. In fact watching this movie you get the impression that there is one person per square mile, since what we see are views of barren wastelands with a highway intersecting, almost ironically. Throughout the film we see only three or four vehicles–except for a brief, concluding look at signs of civilized life in Sydney. “Wolf Creek” is about a sociopathic monster, not the kind that come out of people’s abdomens, thus putting the pic in the slasher sub-genre, akin to films like “The Texas Chainsaw Massacre.” No chain saws this time, but who needs that sort of equipment when you can effectively tie and gag people in their sleep without hearing a peep from the victims until they wake up and lose the gags? The story finds two British tourists in Australia looking for a good time. Sydney resident Ben Mitchell (Nathan Phillips), a surfer, hooks up with Liz Hunter (Cassandra Magrath and Kristy Earl (Kestie Morassi). Liz and Ben are skittish but open to a relationship that goes beyond friendship. In fact the scene that shows the two tentatively kissing, then laughing, kissing again, then laughing, points out the vulnerability of these twenty-somethings--notwithstanding the fact that Ben looks muscular, has tattoos, and dares to curse a boorish Aussie in a tavern. Being young and stupid, Ben buys a crummy used car intending to camp out with the two girls. When the car breaks down (hey, haven’t we seen that situation before in slasher pics?), they are assisted by a Good Samaritan, Mick Taylor (John Jarratt), who is friendly to a fault, offering to tow the lad and lasses to his shack where he will repair the car at no cost. He doesn’t repair the car, and he’s not a Good Samaritan after all. He ties the victims up while they’re sleeping and, in a room whose appearance could not be duplicated even in the worst favela in Rio, he administers his torture, overlooked by a bevy of crucified predecessors. The plot is simple. The surprises are predictable. Yet there’s something here that keeps us in the audience frozen. Because the travelers and dirt-bag are nicely developed, we sympathize with the victims and are repelled by the torturer. Whatever we’ve heard about Abu Gharib, that place is Hotel Intercontinental compared to what we see here. Knives and telescope-equipped rifles come into play; in fact, paying homage to Crocodile Dundee, Mick laughs at one victim who threatens with a small blade. “That’s not a knife; this is a knife.” There’s one scenario that movie-goers must be tired of seeing. When the girls get the drop on the madman, shooting him in the arm and causing him to fall into a faint, instead of making sure he’s dead by bashing him on the head with the rifle, they blithely walk away. Then again, if they didn’t, how could Mclean give us such a welcome, bleak finale? The picture opens not on
Halloween, but on Christmas Day. Go figure. Rated R. 95 minutes © 2005 by Harvey Karten
harveycritic@cs.com Member: NY Film Critics Online | 
