The best horror movies expertly prey upon primal fears, and in the process, dissuade us from wanting to do things wed otherwise normally love to do. Like go swimming in the ocean (Jaws). Or attend sleepaway camp (Friday the 13th). Or go to bed (A Nightmare on Elm Street). Or, as any gore-hound knows, spend a weekend escaping civilization (i.e. the cultured city or suburbs) for the seclusion and tranquility of the great rural outdoors. In classics such as The Old Dark House, The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, The Hills Have Eyes, Eaten Alive, Motel Hell, Tourist Trap, Wrong Turn, Calvaire and Wolf Creeknot to mention more straightforward thrillers like Straw Dogs, Misery, Breakdown, and A Perfect Getawaytheres no place on Earth more deadly for a modern man or woman than the middle of nowhere, where the rule of law is replaced by a survival-of-the-fittest ethos, and where animalistic savages assert their dominion in the most ghastly ways imaginable. <\/p>\n
Theyre paranoid liberal fantasies about the degenerate horrors that lurk off the beaten path, and the latest nail-biting member of that club is Australian writer\/director Damien Powers debut feature Killing Ground (in theaters Friday, July 21), which follows in the footsteps of its homelands Wolf Creek and, coming on the heels of Ben Youngs Hounds of Love, suggests that theres a horror renaissance burgeoning Down Under. <\/p>\n
Powers film is indebted to innumerable predecessors, and in terms of its basic plot outline, does little to radically reinvent the subgenre to which it belongs. Nonetheless, as far as cannily orchestrated cat-and-mouse nightmares go, it works ones nerves over with skill, jumbling up its storys chronology in disorienting ways, and delivering a survivalist saga whose unnerving impact stems in large part from its refusal to shy away from the suddennessand uglinessof violence. <\/p>\n
With a title like Killing Ground, an atmosphere of disaster naturally hangs over the peaceful opening moments of Powers tale, which finds couple Ian (Ian Meadows) and Sam (Harriet Dyer) taking a drive out to Gungilee Falls, where they plan to spend some quality time together hanging out in the wild. As they motor down a two-lane road, they jokingly sing-song about human skeletal structuresince Ian is a doctorand, upon realizing that theyve forgotten the champagne, stop at a local liquor store to procure some booze. Its the sort of offhand decision that comes back to doom pretty young people in movies such as this, and sure enough, after Sam is startled by a dog in a nearby car, Ian makes the classic mistake of asking that canines owner, scraggly-bearded German (Aaron Pedersen), for directionsthus informing the local hillbilly that he and his out-of-towner wife will be stranding themselves in the deep, dark forest for the foreseeable future. <\/p>\n
After panicking over the thought that German is following themleading to an automotive spin-out that will only compound problems laterthey arrive at their destination. There, they discover an SUV parked at the entrance to the hiking trail, and an abandoned campsite on the beach at which theyre setting up temporary residence. Puzzled but hardly perturbed, they pitch their tent, and then out of the blue, get engageda decision that comes courtesy of Sams spontaneous proposal. Sam then attempts to call her sister to report the good news, only to discover that she has no cell service (a detail thats now a de facto requirement for any horror movie intent on keeping its characters in isolated peril). <\/p>\n
Cut to a young teenage girl named Em (Tiarnie Coupland), who as it turns out, is one of the peoplealong with her dad (Julian Garner), mom (Maya Stange), and baby brother Ollie (Riley and Liam Parkes)who established that now-deserted riverside tent, where they all shared fireside tales of massacres and, later that evening, suffered traumatic bad dreams. Powers thus unexpectedly sets up concurrent narratives, one past and one present, that only dovetail after hes spent considerable time providing background on all his would-be victims, as well as the duo destined to cause them so much harm. That would be German and his barking-mad buddy Chook (Aaron Glenane), two deviants who live together in a ramshackle one-story abode with Germans hungry dog Banjo, and who have a fondness for taking advantage of any unwise souls who think they can use their untamed backyard as a playgrounda fact that becomes clear when, shortly after first running into Ian and Sam, German returns home to find a note left by Chook on the kitchen counter that reads Gone Hunting. <\/p>\n
Killing Grounds fractured narrative strands progress at a leisurely pace, the better to create trepidation for inevitable calamity. Even though its obvious that nothing good is going to come of this scenario, however, the way in which brutality and bloodshed emerge remains surprising thanks to Powers shrewd understanding that it often arrives without warning. Thats most true of a particular encounter between Chook, Sam and Ollie that epitomizes the films realistic approach to cruelty and carnagerealistic in that, for all of the horror-movie flourishes utilized here, the unimaginable manifests itself with a swiftness and thudding bluntness thats far from dramatic. The materials most wrenching moments are amplified by their severe matter-of-factness, which helps to create a level of awful unpredictability that carries through to the far-from-heartening conclusion. <\/p>\n
Powers direction is assured without being overly showy, such that he stages a few prolonged single-take sequences that are at once formally graceful and yet reasonably understated, refusing to call direct attention to themselves. Be it a gorgeous shot in which the presence of an unnoticed, stumbling background figure creates intense anxiety and anticipation, or the many compositions in which claustrophobic darkness threatens to snuff out any faint flickers of light, the filmmaker infuses his somewhat routine setup with both polish and gut-punching dread. An us-vs.-them cautionary tale about enlightened people thinking they can master the dog-eat-dog wildernessas a weekend-getaway pastime, no lessits a B-movie in the best sense of the term: rugged, no-nonsense, slyly unconventional, and fully aware that sometimes, imprudent decisions and bad luck conspire to beget unthinkable tragedies. <\/p>\n
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A Paranoid Liberal Nightmare About Rural Horrors - The Daily Beast - Daily Beast<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" The best horror movies expertly prey upon primal fears, and in the process, dissuade us from wanting to do things wed otherwise normally love to do. Like go swimming in the ocean (Jaws) Continue reading