There are passages in this film which are very hard to watch, dealing as it does with the true story of Australia’s worst serial killer and his penchant for torturing his victims. However a quick internet search, whilst clarifying the background, also reveals that there is a considerable amount of grisly detail that the filmmakers held back.  

We are in the north Adelaide suburbs, a desolate stretch of low-rise cheap housing in which the inhabitants appear to have no work and no aspirations. They are the Oz equivalent of trailer trash. Jamie, a withdrawn sixteen year old (played excellently in a tearful, bewildered fashion by Lucas Pittaway) is befriended by John Bunting, a charismatic newcomer with a winning smile and piercing stare. Bunting quickly ingratiates himself into the neighbourhood and assumes the position of rabble-rouser (he overtly voices his disgust of gays and paedophiles) and father figure. During the next seven years he and his depraved cohorts, including Jamie, murder eleven people.

First-time director Justin Kurzel tells this story in a fragmentary, splintered way which at first confuses but cumulatively has its own logic and power. Shot in a naturalistic, observational fashion, it is often not clear in whose home a scene is set, or what the relationships between the principal characters are. Other minor characters abruptly appear and disappear. This style does, however, mirror the transitory nature of shifting alliances between rootless people, and brings home forcefully the power that one focussed and driven individual can exert over others. That Kurzel also composed the thumpingly good music score which underpins many episodes suggests that he is a director completely in control of his material.

As Bunting, Daniel Henshall is compellingly believable. He oozes sadistic intent whilst remaining utterly ordinary. He is clever, sociable and friendly, and at the same time vicious and disengaged. It’s a chilling portrayal.

Some might argue that such nastiness should not end up on the screen, but if one of the tasks of cinema is to reflect the human condition, then the very dark corners at one end of its spectrum should occasionally be addressed.  

With Wolf Creek of 2005, Animal Kingdom of 2010, and now Snowtown, it appears that first-time Australian directors have the knack of serving up compelling horror / crime dramas which examine the nightmare underbelly of    that supposedly friendly and welcoming society. This film lingers long in the mind, and may yet come to be regarded as a classic.