The premise of Thomas M. Wright’s sophomore feature, The Stranger, feels like the delicious setup of a classic thriller or a paperback crime novel. Two men meet in transit, striking up a tentative friendship which evolves into mutual involvement in a criminal enterprise. However, far from the dizzying entertainment of Highsmith and Hitchcock detective yarns, this is a different beast entirely. Prioritising the atmosphere of the slow burn over conventionally propulsive narrative, it’s a neat fit for Un Certain Regard at this year’s Cannes Film Festival. Within a framework of ratcheting suspense, this is a brooding and murky meditation on criminality, the bill coming due, and the impossibility of truly knowing the person sitting opposite you.
In the first instance, it is Henry (Sean Harris) and Paul (Steve Mouzakis), two down-on-their-luck fellas, who become acquainted en route to South Australia. Neither man seems entirely at ease, and it’s not difficult to imagine that either or both are running away from a difficult past elsewhere. Upon relocating, Henry helps Paul out of a tight spot and Paul returns the favour by introducing Henry to Mark (Joel Edgerton), with a view to doing some off-the-books work for him. As Paul recedes into the background, the film trains its sights on the burgeoning relationship between Henry and Mark as they are both revealed to be not quite who they say they are.
“I don’t do violence,” attests Henry when he’s first made aware of the opportunity for work by Paul. Even before he has reiterated the same line to Mark – with almost too much conviction – it’s a denial loaded with suggestion. Delivered in Harris’s familiar half-whisper, this ostensibly innocent claim of pacifism could hardly be more inherently menacing. Of course, Harris is a master of this mode, with an uncanny ability to inject even the most perfunctory dialogue with sinister overtones when the occasion arises. Here, it’s just one signifier of a threat of combustion that underscores the entire film. As Mark and Henry travel back and forth delivering packages and threats for their overlords, they’re completely submerged in a criminal milieu where violence seems liable to erupt at any moment.
The nature of that environment alters across the course of the film, though. Early on, it becomes apparent that Mark is, in fact, an undercover police officer and later on the foundations of the entire underworld they navigate become more ambiguous. Mark’s involved in a lengthy long-con investigation into a crime committed on the other side of the country, for which Henry is apparently the prime suspect. As the two men spend more time together, each exchange is loaded with import; as they become closer, every glance and gesture conveys myriad potential meanings, which both the actors and filmmakers know better than to articulate too overtly. While Harris is operating in territory where audiences know he excels, he is required to remain fairly inscrutable about his true character. Edgerton, on the other hand, must deftly balance conflicting roles as a police officer and father, and a mid-level gangster. He must be Henry’s trusted friend, while also manoeuvring him into a tightening net. It’s through Edgerton’s face that the viewer understands the level of danger in any given scene, and the disquiet only grows as specifics of the crime in question become clearer.
While the blend of heavy atmosphere and glacial pacing might be off-putting for some audiences, perhaps the boldest gambit in Wright’s script is its gradual transformation from crime drama to police procedural. It makes perfect narrative sense – and the transition is steady enough not to jar – but the fact that the beginning and the end of the film can at once feel entirely distinct and yet so comprehensively of a piece is impressive. Wright demonstrates an assured handle on both the aesthetics and tone of the piece, which are consistent even within their variations. The air is thick through much of the more intimate first half – the darkness all-encompassing – and while the unease hardly dissipates, the type of anxiety morphs into something more lingering and corrupting. As the camera adopts a slightly more distanced, dispassionate position, the effect of what has been done – and what has happened, to everyone involved – takes on a deeply haunting quality that is difficult to shake.
Director and screenwriter: Thomas M. Wright
Cast: Joel Edgerton, Sean Harris, Steve Mouzakis, Matthew Sunderland, Jada Alberts
Producers: Joel Edgerton, Iain Canning, Emile Sherman, Rachel Gardner, Kim Hodgert, Kerry Roberts
Cinematography: Sam Chiplin
Editing: Simon Njoo
Music: Oliver Coates
Production design: Leah Popple
Production companies: See-Saw Films (UK), Blue-Tongue Films (Australia), Anonymous Content (US)
In English
120 minutes
