Parky at the Pictures (DVD 2/10/2014)

Italian surgeon Adolphe Menjou rhapsodises to American pal Gary Cooper about the pretty English nurse he has just met. An architect who volunteered to drive ambulances at the front, Cooper is happy to drink and patronise prostitutes, but has no truck with love. However, when he mistakes Helen Hayes for his escort during an air raid, Cooper is instantly smitten and fobs Menjou off with Hayes's friend, Mary Philips when they double date at a soirée supervised by head nurse Blanche Friderici. As they walk in the moonlit garden, Hayes reveals that she entered nursing because her fiancé of eight years had joined up. But she has been alone since his death and, despite having seen colleague Peggy Cunningham being sent home for getting pregnant by a soldier, Hayes allows Cooper to take her virginity as they canoodle beneath a statue.

Eager for Hayes to know that he genuinely loves her, Cooper turns back from an expedition to the front to confess his feelings and Menjou decides to transfer Hayes to Milan to prevent his pal doing anything foolish. Yet, when Cooper is wounded by a stray shell while off duty, Menjou sends him to Hayes's hospital to recuperate and they are married by sympathetic priest Jack La Rue. Superintendent Mary Forbes takes a very dim view of Cooper, however, and arranges for him to be sent back to the line when she finds bottles hidden around his room. Hayes bids him a tearful farewell in the bedsit they had been sharing before taking a train to Brissago in Switzerland to have his child. She writes to him daily, but Menjou intercepts their messages and Cooper becomes so distraught that he deserts in order to find her.

Philips curses him for compromising Hayes when he confronts her in Milan and refuses to reveal her whereabouts. So, he places an advertisement in the newspaper for Hayes to meet him at his hotel, only for Menjou to keep the rendezvous. Feeling remorse for keeping the lovers apart, he tells Cooper where Hayes is staying and he risks being captured by the military police as he makes his way to the Swiss border. He arrives as Hayes comes out of surgery, having lost her baby during an emergency caesarian. She insists on prettifying herself before Cooper is allowed into her room and she allows him to make plans for their future, even though she knows she is going to die. As the locals take to the streets outside to celebrate the signing of the Armistice, Hayes passes away and Cooper picks her up to stand in the sunlight streaming through the windows proclaiming a new dawn.

Stripping away so much of the muscularity that makes Hemingway's prose so distinctive, this is a shamelessly sentimental melodrama that would certainly have struck a chord with audiences who would have lived through the conflict and endured their own share of love and loss. The author supposedly detested it for playing down the battlefield horrors he had witnessed. But, while acknowledging that this merely pays lip service to the source novel and rather lurches between incidents to stress the whirlwind nature of the love affair, there is no denying the brilliance of Borzage's technique, which owes much more to the visual fluidity of the silent era than the staticity of the first five years of the talkies. The standout sequences involve a point-of-view shot showing the ceilings of the Milanese hospital as Cooper is wheeled through the corridors on a gurney and the floating boom shot that picks out the pertinent details in Hayes's shabby room as she fibs in a letter to her beloved about residing in the lap of luxury. But, exceptional though Charles Lang's photography might be (his soft-focus close-ups of Hayes are ravishing), Hans Dreier and Roland Anderson's production design is also exemplary and reinforces Paramount's reputation for being the most European of the Hollywood studios.

The performances are admirable, although Cooper (who would only come into his own under Frank Capra in the middle of the decade) delivers his dialogue with a stiffness that is only partially explained by his character's diffidence. The underrated Menjou (who was recently seen excelling in Stanley Kubrick's Paths of Glory, 1957) particularly excels as the medic who allows jealousy and camaraderie to cloud his judgement, while Hayes is touchingly human as the well-bred lady paying the cruellest price for succumbing to animal passions. The frank discussion of her deflowering and pregnancy is typical of American cinema in the so-called pre-Code period, although Borzage makes much of the bedside wedding to legitimise the stillborn child and make Hayes's demise all the more tragic. It is noticeable how differently Charles Vidor played this aspect of the story in the 1957 colour remake with Jennifer Jones and Rock Hudson.

Released two years later, Frank Capra's It Happened One Night (1934) belongs to another world, even though it also deals with the theme of reckless amour. Yet, such is the acuity of Robert Riskin's screenplays and the altruistic populism of Capra's direction that this pioneering screwball comedy still provides keen insights into human nature.

Having fallen out with father Walter Connolly, heiress Claudette Colbert dives off the family yacht and sets out from Miami to marry New York playboy Jameson Thomas. However, she is spotted on Ward Bond's bus by struggling reporter Clark Gable, who informs loyal editor Charles C. Wilson that he's about to land the scoop of a lifetime. Despite being aware that Thomas is a worthless gold-digger, Gable promises to help Colbert cross the country if he can have the exclusive rights to her story.

She reluctantly agrees after he protects her from wolfish salesman Roscoe Karns. But an evening of camaraderie and song improves her mood and she even begins to warm to her escort when a downpour causes them to stop at a wayside motel and Gable rigs up a blanket partition to give her some privacy. However, she quickly becomes disenchanted when they lose their connection and have to hitch a lift with hayseed Alan Hale. But, just as she is about to fall in love with him and ditch Thomas for good, she becomes convinced that Gable has betrayed her for a quick buck and is less than amused when he turns up at Connolly's mansion on her wedding day.

Had anyone tried to produce a movie about the making of It Happened One Night, no one would have believed it. Things started off reasonably enough, with Robert Riskin turning Samuel Hopkins Adams's magazine story, `Night Bus', into a screenplay. But the fanciful began to set in when MGM's Louis B. Mayer offered Columbia chief, Harry Cohn, Clark Gable in compensation for Robert Montgomery's refusal to play the gruffly genial journalist. However, this was no mere act of inter-mogul philanthropy, as Mayer had grown tired of Gable's pay demands and insistence on selecting his own roles. So, he agreed to loan out his fastest-rising star because he considered him `a bad boy and I'd like to spank him'.

Less than amused by his demotion to Poverty Row, Gable reported for his first meeting with the Sicilian-born Capra fighting drunk and racially abusive. However, he eventually accepted his punishment and came to recognise the quality of the script during pre-production. Myrna Loy, Miriam Hopkins, Constance Bennett and Margaret Sullivan, however, failed to share his enthusiasm and they all nixed the project before Claudette Colbert signed up because she had four weeks to spare before her Christmas vacation in Sun Valley. That said, she had little faith in Capra, who had directed her debut, For the Love of Mike (1927), and its failure had temporarily harmed her prospects.

But even though the lure of $50,000 (double her usual salary) assuaged her doubts, Colbert arrived on set intent on playing the prima donna. She refused point blank to disrobe for the famous `Walls of Jericho' sequence (which caused vest sales to plummet on account of Gable's bare torso) and only agreed to reveal her thigh for the hitch-hiking gag when Capra threatened to use a stand-in with better legs. Consequently, she told friends, `I've just finished the worst picture in the world.'

Yet, in spite of the friction, the film became the first to land the Big Five awards at the Academy Awards. But, more importantly, this fresh, fast and funny farce ushered in the screwball comedy, which remains its lasting legacy - although it also supposedly inspired Warners animator Friz Freleng to create Bugs Bunny (Gable), Yosemite Sam (Connolly) and Pepe LePew (Thomas).

By contrast, debuting siblings Zeke and Simon Hawkins struggle to inject much life into the ciphers created by screenwriter Dutch Southern for We Gotta Get Out of This Place. His basic premise is a good one, as it is borrowed from hardboiled crime ace Jim Thompson's contention that while there are 32 ways to tell a story, there is only one plot: things ain't always what they seem. However, unconvincing characterisation and an over-reliance on contrivance means that this Lone Star noir never comes close to recapturing the despair and urgency that Barry Mann and Cynthia Weil put into the 1965 song by The Animals, from which it takes its title.

In the dead of Texan night, Logan Huffman causes a fire in the yard of a Mark Pellegrino's cotton farm in order to distract the nightwatchman so that he can sneak into the office and empty the safe. He also steals Pellegrino's gun for good measure and meets up next morning with girlfriend Mackenzie Davis and best buddy Jeremy Allen White, who are discussing grammar and literary theory over biscuits and gravy in the local diner. They are about to leave their one-horse town for college and White (who has a scarcely concealed secret crush) is worried that Davis will spread her wings and leave him in a dead-end rut.

Lacking basic street smarts, Huffman clearly isn't tertiary material. But Davis adores his homespun hunkiness and zest for life and readily agrees when he suggests a night away at the coast. White tags along and is surprised that Huffman has so much money to spend. However, he gets embarrassed when his friend tries to bribe bar girl Ashley Adams to pleasure him and endures some drunken teasing in a hot tub as Huffman jokes that White must be saving himself for a nice college type. Davis also feels abashed by Huffman flashing the cash and showing off, but makes allowances because he has had a tough time since his father committed suicide. She urges him not to dwell on the stuff messing up his head, but resists his attempts to get frisky.

On the way home, Huffman tells White that he stole the money from his boss and they get to the farm to find Pellegrino beating the living daylights out of the Hispanic watchman for stealing the money. Unable to bear such injustice and realising that Huffman isn't going to own up, White tells Pellegrino that he took the cash and is appalled when, irrespectively, he shoots the old man dead. He demands that White returns the $20,000 and, when he says he doesn't have it, Pellegrino insists on knowing who helped him spend it because they will have to help him find the exact same sum, as it was borrowed from cotton gin-owning gangster William Devane, who doesn't accept excuses.

Fortunately, Pellegrino has been giving the matter some thought and he proposes that White hijacks the weekly drop that Devane makes to launder his ill-gotten gains through the gin. He also suggests that Huffman lends a hand because he knows he helped him spend the dough. Intimidated by the barrel of a gun, Huffman blurts out that Davis also spent her share and the pals bicker about getting her involved, as they bury the watchman's corpse. Although aghast at being set up, Davis agrees to do her bit and listens as Huffman outlines his brilliant plan (which is amusingly presented with White and Davis raising their objections in situ). If all goes well, they should be able to slip into the gin wearing stocking masks and carrying toy guns, turn off the CCTV cameras, terrorise the old couple who keep an eye on the place and crack the safe without anyone being any the wiser.

White and Davis are slightly perturbed that Huffman suggests they use baby alarms as walkie-talkies. But they lack the common sense to switch off the one he leaves behind and, consequently, he hears every word as they declare their love for each other and tumble into bed. Storming home, Huffman calls Pellegrino. But while his passions have been inflamed in one way, the lovestruck White decides that discretion is the better part of valour and he goes to see sheriff Jon Gries. Much to his surprise, however, the laconic lawman asks if he is convinced that unburdening his conscience is the best thing to do and cites the fallout from his own confession of an affair with a 19 year-old Mexican stripper as an example of silence being the wisest course.

With Gries's warning to keep his word still ringing in his ears, White heads home. However, Pellegrino insists on offering him a lift home and he explains that he feels like a surrogate father to Huffman and hates seeing him feel so left out because he is the only one not going to college. As they pull into the farm compound, he asks White how Huffman would feel if he knew that Davis had cheated on him and White tries to feign ignorance, as Pellegrino gets far too up close and personal while wielding a sledgehammer.

Suddenly, the barn doors fly open and a bound-and-gagged Davis is pushed into the half-light and asked if she wants to play a game of Name Your Price. White looks on helplessly, as Pellegrino offers Davis money to perform a variety of sexual acts with his henchmen. But White eventually shouts out that he will steal Devane's loot and Pellegrino laughs as he wipes Davis's spittle from his face and cautions her that they will pay a heavy price if they fail. Safe in the sanctuary of Davis's bedroom, White suggests that they grab the cash and keep running. But she refuses to spend the rest of her life looking over her shoulder and they resolve to grit their teeth and get the ordeal over with.

White has a chilly exchange with his cynical mother on arriving home and is further dismayed to find Huffman waiting for him in his room. He says they have something important to discuss. But the camera doesn't linger to eavesdrop. Instead, we cut to Davis getting a phone call from White at work informing her that the drop has been brought forward to midnight. She goes home to shower, only for Huffman to materialise in the bathroom and begin fondling her in full view of White, who just happens to be looking up at Davis's window. Behind the drawn curtains, however, Davis is defending her love of crime novels, while Huffman is insisting that she has never fully appreciated how much they are alike and how foolish it would be if they ever broke up. He tries to force himself upon her, but, even after he holds the baby alarm to her face, she refuses to allow him to scare her.

The moment he leaves, Davis calls White to warn him that Huffman is on to them. However, he ignores the call and takes the landline off the hook. She goes to his house and holds back the tears as she opts not to knock and find out why he is snubbing her. Thus, the atmosphere is even more highly charged as Huffman picks them up and drives to Devane's cotton gin. He informs them that he will stay outside as lookout and urges them to get a move on. They are taken aback by the discovery that the surveillance system is already down, but Huffman chides them over the baby alarm to stay focused. Nevertheless, Davis has a bad feeling as they pass through the unlocked office door and find the safe empty and the custodian couple lying slumped in a corner whose walls are smeared with blood.

White orders the terrified Davis to leave immediately. But they are greeted outside by Huffman firing a shot into the air with the gun he stole from Pellegrino. He demands to know if they really thought they could get away with deceiving him, but he is as shocked as they are to discover that the old couple are dead and the money is gone. At that moment, Pellegrino sidles into sight and answers Huffman's question by taking credit for the crimes as he shoots him in the stomach. He announces he is also going to murder Davis and White, put the incriminating weapon beside their bodies and call the cops to confess to gunning them down in self-defence. .

However, Davis warns Pellegrino that she has tipped off Devane about the robbery and that he will take a dim view of his underling try to dupe him. He scoffs at her threat and is about to pull the trigger when the wounded Huffman grabs his hand. The pair scurry up a ladder to the gantry above the gin, as Pellegrino blasts Huffman and comes after them declaring how much he enjoys it when people seek to change the rules midway through the game. He quickly traps them and ridicules White for thinking that Davis would be true to a nerd like him. But this serves only to get White's dander up and he charges at Pellegrino and plunges them both to the ground below.

A sobbing Davis rushes down to kiss the comatose White and Pellegrino taunts her for losing two lovers in a single night. However, he gets his comeuppance when Devane walks in and tells Davis to take the revived White and scram, so he can dish out some backwater justice. As they limp towards the door, they hear a shot ring out and White asks her if this was what she meant when she said there were 32 ways to tell a story and she smiles as she gives the credit to Jim Thompson.

Given the recent glut of films set in rural America, it was only a matter of time before the first disappointment arrived. There is nothing intrinsically wrong with the direction of the Hawkins brothers, as they maintain a steady pace and manage to impart a modicum of suspense to a scenario whose outcome was evident from the moment Pellegrino put in an appearance. Cinematographer Jeff Bierman also makes neat contrasts between the wide open spaces and the cavernous unlit interiors. But the characterisation is threadbare, the dialogue overripe and the plot often bereft of logic. Moreover, few of the performances are anything more than adequate.

The siblings might have talked Pellegrino into biting fewer chunks out of Seong-Jin Moon's sets, while Devane and Gries might have passed on a few more tips about doing simmering menace. But White and Davis are hardly worth rooting for, while Huffman is little more than a throwback to the kind of palooka who motivated crime Bs during the studio era. By its very nature, pulp shouldn't be too precious. But it still requires finesse and Zeke and Simon Hawkins will have to learn this if they are to make the transition from amusingly gimmicky shorts to features. However, they have already mastered the tricky art of atmosphere, so they are already well on their way.

A couple of frustrating talents bring the best out of each other in Joe. Since winning his Academy Award for Best Actor in Mike Figgis's Leaving Las Vegas (1995), Nicolas Cage has alternated between undemanding commercial fare and quirky indies that allow him to be an actor rather than a movie star. He has made some perverse choices over the years and hasn't always taken the risks that would have better demonstrated his undoubted talent. Similarly, director David Gordon Green has rather lost his way since making a considerable impact with his debut feature, George Washington (2000). There were signs of a return to form with Prince Avalanche (2013), but this collaboration with Cage on an adaptation of a 1991 novel by retired Oxford, Mississippi firefighter Larry Brown harks back to such underrated earlier outings as Undertow (2004) and Snow Angel (2007), which respectively mined those rich American traditions, the Southern Gothic and the small-town melodrama.

Fifteen year-old Tye Sheridan endures a peripatetic existence with parents Gary Poulter and Brenda Isaacs Booth and his mute younger sister, Anna Niemtschk. Poulter is a vicious, workshy drunk who beats Sheridan at every opportunity. However, the boy is aware of his responsibilities as the breadwinner and lands a job with Nicolas Cage, who manages a gang detailed to poison trees by a lumber company keen to plant sturdier species in the cleared terrain. A short-fused loner who divides his time between bars and Sue Rock's cathouse, Cage dotes on his fierce female bulldog and has a soft spot for hooker Adriene Mishler. But he also has an enemy in Ronnie Gene Blevins, a sozzled wastrel whose face was badly scarred in a juvenile car accident and who picks fights to keep himself amused.

Cage has a good relationship with foreman Brian Mays and the other African-Americans on his crew, who cut grooves into tree trunks with hatchets before spraying them with poison from their backpacks. Sheridan fetches water on his first day and Elbert Hill III, Milton Fountain and Roderick L. Polk all make him feel welcome. However, Poulter dismisses his efforts with a scowl, as he is only interested in frittering his wages on hooch. Cage also has a night of oblivion planned with Rock, but he is terrified of her guard dog and beats a hasty retreat.

The following morning, Cage drops into blind Lico Reyes's store for provisions and skins a deer for neighbours Kay Epperson and Lazaro Solares. As he leaves their home, however, Cage is shot at by Blevins in revenge for a recent altercation in a bar. Blevins tosses his rifle off a bridge, but he is still in the mood for a barney and confronts Sheridan and Poulter as they head into town. He asks the youth if he has a sister and lunges at him when Sheridan tells him to show more respect. However, Sheridan is quite capable of looking after himself and he pulps Blevins before heading home with his father.

Having removed the bullet from his shoulder and spent a quiet weekend with Mishler, Cage returns to work and ignores the taunts that he is now hiring white trash when Poulter shows with Sheridan. He soon proves lazy, however, and Cage fires the pair after Poulter has a stand-up row with Mays. But, that night, Sheridan comes to beg Cage for his job back and Mishler chides him for not taking Poulter to task for beating his son. Cage feels sorry for Sheridan, but knows that he cannot intervene because his own temper has landed him in trouble in the past and he laments that frontier life isn't what is used to be.

Sheridan buys an alarm clock with the cash that Cage gives him and throws himself into his work. Indeed, when Aaron Spivey-Sorrells complains about the truck that transports them to the woods being old and cramped, Sheridan offers to buy it and Cage is impressed by his eagerness to make good. His father, however, is wandering the streets in a daze and follows wino Elbert Hill, Jr. when he sees him pass with a bottle. Poulter tries to sell the stranger a sob story about his wife being in hospital. But, when he isn't offered a drink, he grabs a metal bolt from the floor and crushes Hill's skull in a frenzied assault. Soothed by a deep swig of cheap wine, Poulter prays over his victim and kisses his forehead before staggering away.

The violence continues that night, when Blevins bumps into Cage in a bar and he smashes a bottle over his head as Blevins cautions him to stop embarrassing him in front of his friends. Livid at losing control of himself, Cage goes to see Rock, only to be chased away by her dog. So, he fetches his own pet and lets her loose in the brothel, while he joins the hostess upstairs. On his way home, however, Cage is pulled over by several pursuing cops and he challenges them to drop their guns and settle the matter with fists. At the station, Sheriff Aj Wilson McPhaul asks Cage why he is so keen to go back inside and warns him that he can't keep turning a blind eye to his antics.

Meanwhile, Poulter has returned home to the shack in which the family are squatting and orders Sheridan to hand over his pay. He refuses and tries to stop Poulter from rummaging in his haversack. But the old man lays him out with a single punch and gives him a kicking to remind him who is boss. Cage is appalled to see the cuts on Sheridan's face next morning and allows him to drive the truck as they go looking for his runaway dog. As they chug beer, Cage explains how he once did 29 months for attacking a cop who was trying to shoot him. He also teaches Sheridan how to smile through pain, as they clamber over some boats that look as though they have been deposited in the middle of nowhere by a flood.

Despite being tipsy, Sheridan realises that the dog will probably be waiting at the spot where Cage was arrested and he is so impressed with the lad's deduction that he gives him his lighter. As he drops him off, Cage promises Sheridan that he will deal with anyone who gives him trouble and threatens to knock Poulter's teeth out when stops to ask him for a light and the coot badmouths his kid. That night, Mishler tells the sleeping Cage that she would love to dress up for dinner with him and wishes that they could make things work. But she knows better than to talk of love or relationships when he is awake.

The next day, Cage asks Sheridan why he doesn't strike out on his own and he explains about the need to protect his sister. They go to the showroom for Cage to pick up his new truck and he tells Sheridan to keep the $900 they had agreed for the sale to cover his insurance. As he drives through town, Cage pulls up at the traffic lights alongside Mishler and a client and, so, when an overzealous cop pulls him over and tries to breathalyse him, he flips out and punches him for what he considers to be harassment. Arriving home, Cage finds McPhaul waiting on his driveway and, as they chat, he tells Cage that he has become a grandfather. He receives the news phlegmatically and promises McPhaul to try and keep himself in check.

However, Blevins has talked Wade into prostituting Niemtschk and they bundle her into the back of Sheridan's stolen truck. Desperate to rescue his sister, the badly beaten Sheridan asks Cage if he can borrow his vehicle. But he insists on accompanying the teen and takes a gun from a drawer. They find the truck parked at the side of a quiet road and Cage fires into the air to scare off the masked john. He tells Sheridan to help Niemtschk while he taunts Blevins with a few near misses before shooting him dead. However, Cage has been wounded in the stomach and can barely reach the bridge where Poulter is preparing to throw himself off. McPhaul drives up with his roof lights blurring in the darkness and Sheridan clings to Cage as he slips away. But, as the film ends, he has rescued his friend's dog and uses his name to make a fresh start in a nursery for saplings.

Making evocative use of his Texan locations and largely non-professional cast, Green generates a seething sense of debased masculinity and small-town ennui. He is superbly served by Cage, who reins in his tendency to excess in order to achieve a potent mix of wry geniality, pent-up rage and wounded vulnerability. He also displays a good deal of reckless courage, as he did the scene in which he grabs the venomous snake bothering his workforce without protection. But Green avoids anti-heroes and villains by giving the vituperative Poulter (a first-timer who would sadly die soon after shooting wrapped) the odd moment to suggest that he might have been a half-decent man before he succumbed to his addiction. Building on his solid displays in Terrence Malick's The Tree of Life (2011) and Jeff Nichols's Mud (2012), Tye Sheridan poignantly conveys pugnacity and innocence in trying to be the man of the house, but Green rather clutters the scenario with minor characters and fails to create any women who are not battleaxes or whores.

Gary Hawkins, who directed the 2002 documentary, The Rough South of Larry Brown, must share the blame here. But he still deserves great credit for a fine screenplay, while cinematographer Tim Orr and production designer Chris L. Spellman conspire unobtrusively to contrast the desolate landscape with the shabby interiors. The use of light in Cage's home and Rock's establishment is particularly striking, as is the way in which Jeff McIlwain and David Wingo's ominous score counterpoints the shifts in Cage's emotional equilibrium. Yet, for all the clues scattered around the scenario, we get no closer to understanding what makes Cage tick and what might have happened in his past to make each day such a struggle to stay on the rails

Although he is a disciple of the Malick School, Green resists the temptation to romanticise country living and, consequently, succeeds in his bid to cast Joe as Prince Avalanche's `dark, nasty, older brother'. The violence may not be as excruciating as it was in Jeremy Saulnier's Blue Ruin, but it still causes the odd flinch and one wonders how much more powerful John Ford and Howard Hawks's studies of men doing what they had to do might have been if the Production Code had allowed for more realistic brutality. Indeed, this feels as though it could have been made in the New Hollywood era when film-makers first had the freedom to present life as it was lived and it will be fascinating to see how Green fares with Al Pacino (who cut his screen teeth in the early 1970s) in Manglehorn, the forthcoming tale of a Texan ex-con striving to go straight.

Another outsider tries to redeem himself in Ivan Sen's Mystery Road, a slow-burning thriller that casts a noirish pall on a Bush Western that is not afraid to address the racial issues that fester below the unruffled surface of Australian society. Acting as his own writer, cinematographer, editor and composer, Sen reinforces the reputation established with Beneath Clouds (2002) and Toomelah (2011), which also explored the contemporary experience of the Aboriginal peoples. But this also slots neatly into the crime wave that has been reviving Aussie cinema, thanks to such strong titles as Nash Edgerton's The Square (2008) and Felony (2014), Justin Kurzel's Snowtown (2011), David Michod's Animal Kingdom (2010), Kieran Darcy-Smith's Wish You Were Here (2012) and Tony Ayres's Cut Snake (2014).

When trucker Hayden Spencer finds the rotting corpse of an Aboriginal woman in a culvert outside the remote Queensland settlement of Massacre Creek, police sergeant Tony Barry assigns the case to detective Aaron Pedersen, as it concerns his people. He has been away in the `Big Smoke' for a while and has clearly alienated his erstwhile colleagues by getting ideas above his station. However, coroner Bruce Spence remains civil, as he deduces that the body has been moved while showing Pedersen the dingo bites on the torso, as well as the fatal knife wound. He also finds a wild grass seed in the girl's ear and wishes Pedersen luck in solving the case alone, as bigoted deputy Robert Mammone claims he's too busy to help.

Driving into the nearby township, Pedersen breaks the news to the victim's family and learns from old boy Jack Charles that she had been prostituting herself to truck drivers to pay for her drug habit. The following day, Pedersen realises he is being observed from a distance as he revisits the crime scene and he calls on cattle rancher David Field to ask what he knows about the roadside trade. Asking sneeringly if Pedersen is a proper cop or a black traitor, Field complains about dingoes killing calves and looks on impassively as son Ryan Kwanten goes out kangaroo hunting with a pack of dogs.

Back at the station, Barry tells Pedersen that he doesn't have the manpower or the resources to devote to the case and goes into a conspiratorial meeting in his office with drug cop Hugo Weaving. Accustomed to being marginalised, Pedersen quizzes gun shop owner Daniel Roberts about the sale of hunting knives, only to learn that he doesn't keep records for cash sales. However, as Pedersen searches for the dead girl's friend, Jarrah Louise Bundle, a young boy on a bicycle offers to give him the mobile that he found lying on the ground in return for a reward and hold of Pedersen's gun.

Dismayed to find daughter Tricia Whitton's number on the phone, Pedersen pays her a visit and exchanges cool pleasantries with ex-wife Tasma Walton, who bears the bruises of another run-in with her new partner. Pedersen offers to find Whitton a job away from her drunken mother, but she feels he has neglected her and wants nothing to do with his concern or charity. Unable to sleep that night, Pedersen goes through the photographs on the phone and finds a picture of Whitton posing beside a truck on the highway. He drives out there in the dark and sees two figures carrying cases from a truck. Dimming his lights, Pedersen follows one of the vehicles back to Field's ranch. But, as he heads home, he is pulled over by Weaving, who insinuates that he would not be best pleased if the hard hours he has put in on a major case were wasted by someone prying where they weren't wanted.

Remaining unmoved as Weaving asks if he would kill somebody if he knew he could get away with it, Pedersen seeks out Barry at his sprawling property. As the son of a stockman, Pedersen recognises the quality of the horse in the enclosure and is intrigued to learn that Weaving was transferred from the north after getting into a scrape. They go to the pub and Barry urges Pedersen not to rattle too many cages. He bumps into Walton playing the slots and asks why she is letting Whitton hang out with undesirables. She dismisses his holier than thou attitude by reminding him that he used to have a serious drinking problem and mocks him for trying to make a difference to people who don't want his help.

While having some target practice with his father's old Winchester rifle, Pedersen finds a poisoned dingo and returns to base to check the files on wild dog attacks. He unearths a report about loner Jack Thompson's claim to have seen a canine with a human bone in its mouth and drives out to see him. However, the old man's memory is fading and he can only recall his beloved pet Chihuahuas being savaged by mongrels. Yet, while lamenting that time passes so quickly and that not even dreams can bring back what has been lost, he cautions Pedersen to check the missing person files.

Having rummaged through the archives, Pedersen returns to the township to make inquiries about another missing teenager. Charles confides that a lot of families are moving away because of the drink and drunk problems and points Pedersen towards Angela Swan and her mother Lillian Crombie. Swan reveals that the lost girl used to procure drugs from a white dealer at the Dusk Till Dawn hotel, but she claims to know nothing about Whitton's involvement with the local bad girls. Receptionist Zoe Carides flirts with Pedersen, but she recalls one regular who drove a white utility hunting truck and this prompts him to question Kwanten, who owns a similar vehicle. Scarcely concealing his prejudice, he informs Pedersen that he knows nothing about truckers or tricks and not only warns him that he will need a warrant, but also reminds him that he has a right to defend his land if anyone tries to trespass.

Spence calls Pedersen to say that he has found fibres from a car seat under the first victim's fingernails and suggests she was in agony when she died. He also concedes that he has been unable to match the saliva sample from the dog bites with any known species. But Pedersen is more interested in finding out about a colleague who was killed on duty a few years earlier. Widow Samara Weaving recalls him being very secretive about the case he was working on, but she is convinced that the police were somehow involved in his murder and that the truth has been covered up.

Pedersen also suspects that something is going on at headquarters and he spies on Hugo Weaving as he rendezvous with Damian Walshe-Howling, who turns out to be a small-time thug with a lengthy record. He scarpers when Pedersen knocks on his door and claims he had mistaken him for someone else when he plays the innocent under interrogation. However, he sneers when Pedersen mentions the dead girls and declares that they got what they deserved because they were only interested in having a good time. He hints that Whitton is no angel and Pedersen is about to grab him by the throat when Weaving bursts in and demands to know why he is hassling his best informer.

Stung by Walshe-Howling's accusation that he has betrayed his race, Pedersen scours the town rubbish tip. He is looking for a white Mercedes, but stumbles upon the body of the missing teen and Barry wonders if it's really worth starting a turf feud over a couple of black kids. Pedersen avers that they already live in a war zone, as he leaves to find Whitton. However, she has disappeared and Walton is upset because her house has been vandalised. Driving to Field's ranch, Pedersen is surprised to see someone in a hazmat suit open the barn doors for a speeding brown car, which he proceeds to pursue. Using the telescopic sight on his rifle, Pedersen watches as Walshe-Howling is taken out of the vehicle and bundled into a waiting car.

As he follows, Pedersen is flagged down by Weaving, who suggests they go for a bite to eat. He asks Pedersen if he really believes in his messianic mission, but throws up at the mention of the fallen cop. Weaving warns Pedersen that he is taking reckless risks and suggests that he concentrates on keeping his own daughter on the straight and narrow rather than stomping his boots in places they don't belong. But Pedersen senses he is on to something big and returns to the township. He finds a sizeable stash in the back of the television in a smashed-up house and looks through the door to see innocent kids playing with a piñata and knows it is up to him to ensure they have a worthwhile future.

Calling Weaving, he arranges to hand over the drugs at Slaughter Hill off Mystery Road. Loading up a pistol and the Winchester, Pedersen watches as the brown car drives up and a man in a hockey mask gets out and sits on the bonnet. Weaving also shows up and Pedersen gets out of his vehicle to hand the drugs to the masked stranger. But, as he nods and turns, Pedersen spots a hunting truck on the brow of a neighbouring peak and rushes for cover as gunshots ring out. Realising his assailant is Kwanten, Pedersen fires back, as Weaving shoots the man in the mask. Pedersen takes out the driver of the brown car as he tries to make a getaway. Kwanten aims at Weaving, as Pedersen grabs the Winchester and fires at the retreating utility truck. It grinds to a halt and Kwanten jumps out narrowly to miss Pedersen as he hides behind a tree. However, with his last bullet, Pedersen kills Kwanten and looks through his rangefinder to see Weaving slumped in his hiding place.

Pulling off the hockey mask, Pedersen is hardly surprised to find Mammone. He peers into the brown car and sees Field pinned to a seat whose upholstery bears scratch marks. Reaching in, he finds a necklace belonging to the first victim. As he drives away, he hears wild dogs howling in the distance. He tours the township at dusk and stops to pick up Walton and Whitton, as they wait beside the highway.

There will be those who will be frustrated by both the deliberate pacing of this simmering procedural and the ambiguities strewn across its the ending. But any noir worth its salt should leave the audience perplexed and Sen certainly likes to keep the cards close to his chest as he litters the action with hard facts, half-clues and red herrings. There is even room for a MacGuffin. His photography is every bit as meticulous as his direction and he makes wonderful use throughout the picture of aerial shots showing Pedersen's car traversing the dusty red landscape and the township's winding streets. He also combines well with production designer Matthew Putland and sound supervisor Lawrence Horne to capture the sights and sounds of this tension-racked outpost.

The all-star cast is superb, with Pedersen excelling as the hard-boiled cop in a white Stetson, who is despised by rival cultures in spite of his struggle to recover the decency and dignity he lost during his wild days. Weaving overdoes some of his speech mannerism, but he also conveys the difficulty of doing the right thing in a backwater where the law is merely an option. But what most impresses here is the trust that Sen places in old-fashioned, foot-slogging detection, as Pedersen plods around a hometown he no longer recognises and is determined to deliver from its corroding moral malaise.