Red Hill

Directed by Patrick Hughes. Starring Ryan Kwanten, Steve Bisley, Claire van der Boom, Tom E Lewis Club, IFI, 95 mins

WILL CITY cop Shane Cooper (True Blood’s Ryan Kwanten) survive the transfer to Aussie outpost Red Hill? The remote one-horse town seemed like a tranquil spot to raise a family with his delicate, heavily pregnant wife.

But the locals sure are gruff. Old Bill (Bisley), the fearsome head honcho, has little time for the suspiciously liberal newcomer and none for modern innovations. “Our forefathers did not sacrifice their blood, sweat and tears so a bunch of fucking wankers could sit and drink Pinot,” he bellows.

The people are grim but the duties are worse. Shane’s first day on the job has already brought him to the site of a disembowelled horse when news of an escaped convict sends law enforcement into a panic. Old Bill and his men were the ones who put the murderer Jimmy Conway (Tom E Lewis) behind bars. An unstoppable Aboriginal killing machine, Conway is armed, dangerous and headed straight for Red Hill.

Director Patrick Hughes’ debut – a cheeky self-conscious art western – finds plenty of fun things to do with the horse opera and the police procedural in contemporary Australia.

Characters talk about the high country, ride around on horseback, wear cowboy hats and speak fluent Peckinpah: “If he rides into this town he’ll be bringing hell with him.”

The playful cross-cultural effects are made doubly entertaining by Red Hill’s buckshot allusions to Tarantino, Kurosawa, Leone and the Coens. Hughes juggles all these references while maintaining a straight face. Tim Hudson’s stylish cinematography, an excellent leading turn from Kwanten and a twanging score by Dmitri Golovko and Charlie Parr ensure we leave the cinema believing that there really might be a spot in the Antipodes where everybody dresses like Yosemite Sam.