Director Ray Lawrence doesn’t so much make films as cultivate cinematic onions. His award-winning splashdown, Lantana, was such a movie - one that required plenty of peeling before we got to the heart of things. Along the way, many tears were shed. Jindabyne is a similar film, one that again uses death as a rock on which personal, familial and community relationships founder. After a group of fisherman discover a body, layers are stripped back and shockwaves ring through a small, regional town. That the anglers didn’t immediately report their finding is the first of many revelations. Was the murder work of a local madman? Why does the incident pull one couple apart, and push another together? Why did the men behave so irresponsibly? And what of the monstrous children, or the monster-in-law, who force themselves into this story. Lawrence slowly plays his hand.

Winning performances by Linney and Byrne are central to the story of secrets hidden and lies told. There’s an echo of Mike Leigh yet this is essential Lawrence as everyone gets their moment of truth. His commanding cinematography and a sparing score are at once seductive and repellent. There’s an edginess to the story that is at odds with the open, sunny landscape. Likewise his characters’ behaviour that sits uncomfortably in the easy, laidback setting. As he brings the weight of mental instability and cultural divides to bear, the recognized standards begin to crumble. Jindabyne is an enthralling film about redemption that refuses to be contained. Lawrence knows his psychological onions, and will have you on the edge of your seat. It’s a slow burn that rewards patience. It’s iconic filmmaking.

// COLIN FRASER