Snowtown

Australia’s reputation for mateship and the “she’ll-be-right” and “no-worries” attitude is actually at the heart of the international film festivals’ hit, Snowtown, which isn’t to say it’s a jolly Barry MacKenzie movie: quite the opposite, in fact. Behind the facade of the carefree lifestyle of beaches, beer and barbecues is a society whose core is riddled with bigotry, in all its unpleasant shades. Ironically, it is nearly always the areas of perceived peace and tranquility, such as the English country village, that hide the repressed, dark heart, at least if we are to believe the goings on in fictional places such as Cabot Cove or Midsomer. However, the setting for Snowtown is far from those leafy idylls.

The city of Adelaide itself was rather unique in that it was the first Australian capital city set up us a planned city for free settlers, as opposed to the penal colonies of the  east coast. It is renowned for its progressive attitudes and the arts, and cinema in particular, with the South Australian Film Corporation being at the forefront of the Australian cinema renaissance in the 1970s. At the height of the “assisted passages”, Adelaide welcomed thousands of British migrants (the £10 poms) and even built a city north of the capital, named in honour of the Queen, to accommodate them all, and this is the setting for the true story of one of the country’s most brutal serial killers.

If you imagine the worst council estates, such as Manchester’s Moss Side or London’s Broadwater Farm, and put them in an area of bungalows surrounded by gum trees and the ubiquitous corrugated iron fences, this will give you some idea of what it is like. With mass unemployment, the area was somewhat lawless and although it didn’t descend into the gang culture of areas such as Chicago, it was still every man for himself.

In this area, filled with deprivation and abuses of all kinds, lived the disaffected teenager Jamie (portrayed in a stunning debut performance by Lucas Pittaway), with his single mum and his brothers and half-brothers. Into their lives arrives the charismatic John Bunting (Daniel Henshall), who befriends Jamie, offering him something of a mentor role. However, it is soon clear that there is something more sinister to Bunting’s sense of morality and justice as people (mostly addicts, sexual deviants and child abusers) start to leave the area with nothing more than a phone message.

Director Justin Kurzel is a native of the area, as are most of the cast, which gives this true story a naturalness and familiarity that makes it all the more disturbing as the horrors of what is happening are revealed on screen. Although it matches the gritty reality of the estate-based kitchen sink dramas we are used to in British films, it doesn’t have the same grey pallor, although considering it is made in what is known as “the driest state in the driest country”, it did seem to rain a lot. This, along with the chummy mateship, does almost lure you into a false sense of security until we see the brutal reality, with some scenes that may disturb the fainthearted, even if the worst of it is not shown. 

Because of all this, it may well be one of the toughest films you will watch all year, even more so than the heightened fantasy violence of slasher/torture movies such as Saw, simply because it is underplayed, and based on real events. Nevertheless, it is still a superb film that reveals the darker side of humanity that masquerades as morality.