The Road Trip To Hell.
At the end of the credits there was the usual disclaimer that "any resemblance to characters or events is strictly coincidental" blah blah blah. But the brief on-screen notes book-ending the movie would have you believe otherwise. This is unnecessarily deceitful - it's bad enough that we have the Aussie accents, the not unfamiliar concept of Brit tourists trekking across the country in a bomb, the scorched earth and the blazing sky synonymous with Outback Australia. For me the movie is scary because it is so close to home; your typical Hollywood horror movie (not that I would necessarily watch them) occurs in a land an ocean away.
Sure, it's still thousands of kilometres from Fox Studios to Halls Creek. But to put such horror into a landscape that I find incredibly beautiful just makes it worse. And what pans out is thoroughly disturbing. I don't want to give too much away but I guess the experience of it is something that I just can't convey. It even SOUNDS bad, especially the "head on a stick" scene. And then to juxtapose that with a sunset of such rich and vibrant and beautiful colours is to emphasise the horror even more.
I held on tightly to JPB's hand like the wussy little girl I can be. Later on that night, the memory of the sound of the knife penetrating the flesh kept me up into the early hours.
Tags: Wolf Creek, Movie.
