Re-watching this again, goes onto consolidate how confronting, humiliating, intense and haunting John Hillcoat's nightmarish prison drama is. The unsparing atmosphere is so clinically cold and you really do feel imprisoned in this confined maximum security prison, as we watch the numbing existence of these prisoners through daily routines (where rules are virtually non-existent) and eventually the mental breakdown that occurs when what they hold close to keeping them sane is taken away by the prison administration. Then you have the prison guards (who are no better themselves) fearing for their own lives, because they sense its only time when the frustration boils over and its taken out on them.
The controversially cerebral material (penned by Gene Conkie, Evan English, John Hillcoat and Nick Cave) is well-developed and profound, holding an unforgettable and gripping edge. It's a frightening, primal and brutal portrait, without over doing it or reverting to bad taste. It's a wicked look at the use of violence, despite those being inside are there for committing it. Even the ending leaves it opened to the true state of the criminal. Healed or not... do we really care? The central industrial prison is located in the middle of nowhere and has been locked down due to the spate of uncontrollable acts of aggressive violence. Soon it flashes back to open up the events that have caused this violent outbreak, and show the truth behind the system's polices and unusual acts to provoke it's prisoners and guards.
The guerrilla style camera-work can become alienating, and Nick Cave's simmering score is sparsely used to put you off balance. Hillcoat's consistently slick direction is visually piercing and tightly constructed, invoking many dark and violent passages. The performances are mainly adapt with a solid central turn by David Field, but it's a blindingly compulsive performance by Nick Cave (who explosively hit's the screen almost a good hour in) as a downright maniac brought in to cause a ruckus.
A powerfully nail-biting, ambitious and uncompromising slice of prison life.
The controversially cerebral material (penned by Gene Conkie, Evan English, John Hillcoat and Nick Cave) is well-developed and profound, holding an unforgettable and gripping edge. It's a frightening, primal and brutal portrait, without over doing it or reverting to bad taste. It's a wicked look at the use of violence, despite those being inside are there for committing it. Even the ending leaves it opened to the true state of the criminal. Healed or not... do we really care? The central industrial prison is located in the middle of nowhere and has been locked down due to the spate of uncontrollable acts of aggressive violence. Soon it flashes back to open up the events that have caused this violent outbreak, and show the truth behind the system's polices and unusual acts to provoke it's prisoners and guards.
The guerrilla style camera-work can become alienating, and Nick Cave's simmering score is sparsely used to put you off balance. Hillcoat's consistently slick direction is visually piercing and tightly constructed, invoking many dark and violent passages. The performances are mainly adapt with a solid central turn by David Field, but it's a blindingly compulsive performance by Nick Cave (who explosively hit's the screen almost a good hour in) as a downright maniac brought in to cause a ruckus.
A powerfully nail-biting, ambitious and uncompromising slice of prison life.