All My Rowdy Friends Have Settled Down

Let's see how long we can have a go at this for...I'm gonna give it my all to keep up.  What better way to kick off the new blog than with two brutal Australian horror/thrillers from this year.

Hounds of Love (Young, 2017): There's undeniable talent here, but couldn't help but feel like a slog to get through.  I'm more than a little weary of suburban underbelly exposes like this; the idyllic community facade belying a deplorable evil behind the picket fence isn't an incisive observation at this point.  I'd say it's fairly clear to most people that evil can harbor anywhere; the true crime craze has probably killed any remnant of shock value the culture has for middle-class decay.   I did enjoy a few scenes: Vicki's decision to get into the couple's car - peppered with enough subtle detail to make the predatory pickup plausible - and a scene involving some mail where Vicki realizes her plan of escape my have fallen just short; its anxiety and heartbreak is palpable.  Also, surprisingly, I did appreciate the ending, not only because of the inclusion of Joy Division, but for actually granting us a cathartic moment without the need for a rote revenge fantasy coda.  Still, a majority of the film is devoid of mystery or insight, and once the kidnapping occurs, we are not discovering a narrative anymore but are merely left waiting to be dragged through the rape, torture, and cruelty we know will come.

Killing Ground (Power, 2017):  I found this one to be far superior to Hounds of Love, although I'd readily conceded that the latter has better formal craftsmanship.  Killing Ground isn't perfect - it makes some unnecessary missteps late on - and it's easily more brutal and violent than Hounds of Love, but it's never tasteless or gratuitous.  A particularly harsh scene, for instance, is mostly held at a removed wide shot after the worst of the abuse has occurred, leaving us to reflect on the horror without hauling us through its every grimy detail (a majority of the film's supposed brutality is left to the imagination like this).  The disjointed time contrivance is also a nice touch, as it effortlessly builds dread, mystery, and a sense of discovery - qualities I enjoy in horror movies and found lacking in Hounds of Love.  But what I liked best about Killing Ground is that it left me chewing on some of its meatier (or veggier in my case) questions.  At the heart of the film is a moral and ethical imperative towards the well-being of a child, and how each of the characters choose to react to this imperative will come to define them.  I don't think it's fair to say the film bullies its characters or emasculates them for cowardice.  But I do think it challenges them to make a moral choice under extreme duress and to face its consequences.  Who will survive and what will be left of his or her soul?