A gaunt, grizzled Simon Baker stalks an arid, haunted alien wasteland in Ivan Sen's immense yet decidedly inward Limbo, an eerie, sorrowful Australian police procedural drama that unfolds in stark black and white against the unearthly backdrop of an opal mining town. Twenty years ago a teenage indigenous girl was murdered here, the killer never found. Baker is the cop called in to reevaluate the cold case, a man who has a past so troubling he takes heroin just to cope with the day to day. The locals initially seem less than willing to help given the neglect and indifference of the police overall in this forgotten region, but eventually the brother (Rob Collins) and sister (Natasha Wanganeen in one of the year's best performances so far) warm up to him and express long buried desire to find some closure. Closure doesn't exist in such an open, vast, lonely corner of the world though and the bizarre stone structures and desert dwellings seem to hold secrets in steadfast silence. Baker stays at a motel that is literally carved into a mineral structure underground, his room akin to being on the moon in terms of tone and atmosphere. He resembles someone like Bryan Cranston here, I'm so used to him as the glib clairvoyant dude on The Mentalist, to see him in such a quietly despairing, resolutely rugged characterization is jarring, but in a good way. He has clearly sacrificed a piece of his humanity for the work, and his journey through this hushed desolation almost beckons him to regain some of it by finding a few long hidden answers. Almost. It's a quiet, hypnotic tale unlike many other cop/killer mysteries, where meaning and significance are found in the wavering pauses between words and all the collective pain and confusion that ripples out from a crime like that can be seen in Wanganeen's ghostly, impossibly wide eyes as she, a relative unknown to me, gives some career best work in a fantastic film.
