Similar to France’s New Extremity, Australia experienced its own significant genre resurgence in the 2000s. Most agree the Land Down Under’s golden days of filmmaking began in the ’70s and then drew to a close around the late ‘80s. This period, better known as the Australian New Wave, soared to new heights after the government issued substantial support for the arts. After a steep decline in the ‘90s, though, homegrown horror made a slow but noticeable comeback in the early 21st century. And no other movie from that era is more responsible for bringing Australia back into the conversation than 2005’s bleak and stylish Wolf Creek.
It wouldn’t be a mid-2000s horror movie without the practically mandatory and hyperbolic “based on true events” promotion. In this case, though, Wolf Creek is indeed inspired by a ripped-from-the-headlines true crime. Several, in fact. Ivan Milat, who died in 2019 after being sentenced to life in prison in 1996, was dubbed the Backpack Murderer by the media. As his nickname suggests, Milat targeted backpackers. To be more specific, he was responsible for the deaths of seven young travelers.
Greg McLean’s directorial debut, however, isn’t a direct adaptation; this is a story reminiscent of the truth. Of course, many Australians would be lying if they didn’t pick up on the similarities as they watched John Jarratt’s character gruesomely dispose of three unsuspecting backpackers.
If not for an ominous foreword placed at the outset — 30,000 people are reported missing in Australia every year, 90% are found within a month, some are never seen again — Wolf Creek might have come across as a travelogue in that first act. On the contrary, McLean wants the audience to forget what they just read and to see Ben, Liz and Kristy (Nathan Phillips, Cassandra Magrath, Kestie Morassi) as they should be remembered. They were people, not just victims, looking for fun, love and adventure. These three friends were on their way to see a famous meteor crater in Western Australia when they were marked by a sadistic killer.
Those first thirty-something minutes of Wolf Creek don’t offer much in the way of excitement or intrigue. Aussie Ben and his two English pals are merely shown driving around in a rust bucket, partying whenever possible, and occasionally hooking up with one another. This approach is so undecorated and bordering on dullness, yet the slice-of-life approach gives the movie an air of credibility. The main characters feel like real flesh-and-blood people. Which is maybe why viewers found the inevitable outcome so hard to watch.
The protagonists don’t fit into the standard character roles so popular in horror. As all on-screen evidence would suggest, Ben is the most extroverted and easygoing of the trio. Unlike so many men his age in the genre, though, his outgoing nature and occasional boldness aren’t offensive. There is no arrogance detected in Phillips’ performance. And acting sociable hardly makes Ben and his friends deserving of their fates. Also, when two people are as close as Liz and Kristy, it makes sense for their personalities to blend. This isn’t like in other movies where audiences ask themselves, “How are these characters friends?” The sheer level of unaffected bonding among these three is so quickly authentic that the movie ultimately wouldn’t work without this foundation. It’s as easy as it is painful to care about these characters.
Wolf Creek doesn’t immediately go from a story of carefree innocence and road-trip romance to a tale of backwoods fright. That deliberate buildup isn’t for everyone — fans of gradually building tension à la The Texas Chain Saw Massacre should be more content than others — but it does make the inescapable reveal more persuasive. Before everything goes to hell, McLean does try to stray audiences from the path placed before them; the characters’ car and watches simultaneously malfunctioning once they reach the meteor site is an obvious red herring in retrospect. That supernatural misdirect is even more transparent as soon as Jarratt finally shows his face.
Oncoming headlights being momentarily mistaken for something like Min Min lights add to the movie’s unearthly quality prior to Mick Taylor’s introduction. However, Jarratt’s suspicious behavior eventually belies the benign nature of that certain local phenomenon. At first Mick comes off as accommodating despite his outdoorsy gruff and exterior. Jarratt’s reputation for playing non-villains, such as the lovable Terry Dodge in the TV drama McLeod’s Daughters, afforded him the benefit of the doubt. Once the mask comes off (and lands with a thud), Wolf Creek more than earns its infamy as a brutal helping of Ozploitation.
McLean didn’t reinvent anything a seasoned horror fan hadn’t seen before, but he did make everything feel fresh by simply not doing too much. The director and writer neither overthought everything nor took a self-aware swipe at his own movie. It’s Wolf Creek’s blunt but straight delivery that made it stand out at the time. After all, mainstream Hollywood had only begun to get into the splatter game when this indie movie premiered in its homeland. Back then, there was nothing quite comparable in a local and contemporary sense. Although, Australian Horror has always had an almost unmatched ferocity when it came to characters stepping foot in the continent’s rural parts.
When a place assembles its own gothic identity over time, more often than not the home is included in that individual definition. Meanwhile, Australia’s own gothic persona has long been associated with the outdoors. Taking that even further is what many call the Outback Gothic. To experience or demonstrate the Outback Gothic on film, a survival story tends to be set in the open air or, in some cases, a domicile found in a rustic area. Another important facet is the recognition of Australia’s darker parts (modern and historical), which involve colonialism and clashing cultures. Wolf Creek checks off multiple boxes: most glaringly Mick Taylor’s xenophobic motivation to kill and the Outback as an eerie and unforgiving landscape.
Wolf Creek seems tame when contrasted with more recent horrors. This includes its own sequel and a spinoff TV series. Nevertheless, the moment this movie’s evilness comes into sight, it doesn’t let up until the very end. The unapologetic McLean showed every ounce of pain coming to these wretched characters. Looking back, Wolf Creek had the pleasure of causing walkouts and repulsing film critics left and right, and it had the audacity to be released on Christmas Day in North America. Many still agree to disagree about the actual value of this movie, but there is no denying its impact during a time of horror distinguished by sheer unrest and an alarming degree of violence.
Horrors Elsewhere is a recurring column that spotlights a variety of movies from all around the globe, particularly those not from the United States. Fears may not be universal, but one thing is for sure — a scream is understood, always and everywhere.
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