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Lantana is less about solving a mystery and more about the ensuing revelation in the light of that recent mystery, however a clever marketing campaign would have you thinking otherwise. Granted, it is easy to bill this 2002 Australian drama as a thriller, but those who expect such a film may be disappointed by a relatively slow-burning plot and moderately paced character study.

The beginning of Lantana is not entirely original. A woman's body is revealed among a shrub, and the metaphor for the menace lurking beneath a relatively unassuming and benign surface is neatly established. We saw this years before with David Lynch's Blue Velvet and so it doesn't feel completely revelatory or engrossing. From this moment, you'd be forgiven for thinking this film will turn into an intricate, tense and gripping edge of your seat thriller. It is still those things, but in a different way. Sydney cop, played brilliantly by Aussie export Anthony LaPaglia, is having an affair with Jane, and deceiving his wife Sonja, whose intuition can sense something is not right with her husband. Jane has left her husband, Pete, and lives with her friend Paula, who has a humble yet satisfying marriage to Nik. Sonja is seeing psychiatrist Valerie Somers, whose marriage is also showing cracks. One of Sonja's other clients is Patrick, who is engaging in his own form of deceit, by sleeping with a married man. Valerie's insecurity with her marriage leads her to believe that the very man Patrick is sleeping with is her own husband. So begins a web of interconnections, masterfully established by Australian director Ray Lawrence. A story with this many closely linked characters could begin to feel chaotic and even messy, but Lawrence has a way of handling these relationships that feels organic and natural. We never lose our focus on who is related to who either, which can be very with ensemble stories of interlocking lives. The success in creating a series of connections brings to mind Robert Altman's Short Cuts and Paul Thomas Anderson's Magnolia.

Perhaps one of the biggest attributions to Lantana's success is the performances. Everyone here is at their best, particularly LaPaglia, whose extramarital affair cannot combat or even alleviate his own personal dissatisfaction and existential crisis. Even in the throes of passion with his lover, he loses his temper after a bout of chest pain. Nothing is enjoyable for this man anymore. Kerry Armstrong, who plays his wife, is equally impressive. She suspects something is wrong, and we see that doubt linger in her eyes every time she's on screen. Even when she comes into contact with her husband's mistress, seemingly oblivious, at a dance club, we get the sense she knows more than she conveys. That's the beauty of acting... a feeling is communicated, without every really being scripted. Armstrong has the ability to read in between the lines and does her character a wonderful justice. The supporting cast, with a surprise appearance from American actress Barbara Hershey, and Australian luminary Geoffrey Rush, do not miss a beat. Hershey's frantic, barely there sanity is almost palpable, and Rush's aloofness is unnerving, suggesting something ulterior.

Lantana reminds me of a great time in Australian cinema, when risks were still being taken and interest in thoughtful indigenous film was still appealing to the Australian film-goer. An emphasis on box office numbers and commerce has diluted the craft of Australian film in recent times, and we get a lot of by-the-numbers "feel good" flicks about animals. This is not a problem, but when it's the only thing that is heavily marketed, people lose sight of real art. Lantana is just that, a complicated and nuanced piece of cinema. This one comes highly recommended.

Wake in Fright is about a part of Australia that seems to have been clean forgotten. It is a snapshot of a history and life that was swept under a rug, largely due to the colonisation of the country. Very few Australians will be familiar with the Outback aside from a vague familiarity, nor will they be aware of the threateningly machismo life portrayed in Wake in Fright, but it is a life that does exist, far beyond the fringes of the city, in the hauntingly beautiful Outback. The narrative is based on a book of the same time, about a schoolteacher from the city who finds himself in rural Australia doing teaching work for money. During his stay, he ends up in a landlocked, isolated town in the barren Australian desert colloquially called the "Yabba". The primitive way of life here initially floors the well-to-do citizen, but the town and strips back his polished city exterior.

The undoing of a polite, cultured gentleman at the hands of derelict desert folk is actually one of the most disturbing aspects of this film. I kept thinking that this man (John is his name) was going to fall victim to a horrible act of violence by the group of eccentric, predominantly wasted townspeople. But instead, the film takes a different route, a far more disturbing one, and places John at the centre of the depravity. He does not fall victim to their behaviour, rather he participates in it until it ravages him almost to the point of no return. The shred of credibility and decency that John has left sees him flee the town. He has had a taste of a more simplistic, animalistic, impulsive existence, but the city life has not allowed him to fully amalgamate himself within this recklessly masculine crowd.

The film is masterfully well made. The scrumptious, beautiful colours and settings of the Outback are so rich and bare that they almost become surreal. Director Ted Kotcheff isn't the first person to see the Outback as a foreboding and menacing place, but he has probably helped solidified this view in one of the most memorable ways. The performances are all excellent and you wouldn't know Donald Pleasance is a British veteran actor, because he has got the role of a grubby small town man down to a tee. In fact, all of the actors who portrayed the inhabitants of the Yabba really do seem like they were plucked off the street, they have a naturalism that compliments the film and makes it all the more frightening. Brian West, the cinematographer, deserves much credit too. The heat of the Australian summer is so palpable and raw that it feels as though you are there, in those ramshackle pubs, with sweat from your forehead dripping into your beer (which is almost never empty thanks to the "hospitable" locals). It is such a visceral, often menacing and gut-wrenching experience.

I highly recommend this film. It really is incomparable to anything I've ever seen. It isn't really a commonplace thriller, but rather a drama about a way of life that has been forgotten, in favour of a more polished existence. Australia is a fascinating country because it is home to both the city and the rural, timeless outback... very contradictory realities. But sometimes when these very alternate ways of existence meet, chaos ensues. The result is intoxicating.