The Proposition review

Pop stars and the movies have always had an uneasy relationship. When a crooner decides to get in front of the camera for a turn at acting the result is usually greeted by mass derision. The Australian singer Nick Cave neatly sidesteps this problem with his first debut feature by not appearing in his work, but the large writer's credit that appears so significantly makes it hard for him to escape without blame. If ever there was a reason for a ban on musicians doing something other than writing the score of a film, then this is it.

Set in late 19th century Australia, this is a deadly serious tale of the law taking on the criminal world with one of them ending up with more than a bloody nose. Ray Winstone is the law, an English enforcer recently arrived in the country with his wife (Emily Watson). 'What fresh hell is this', he asks, a question that audiences may well sympathise with as turgid scene after scene unrolls. Winstone's Captain Stanley targets the Burns brothers, a motley family of criminals of Irish descent, and it is their cat and dog relationship that forms the basis of the plot.

Guy Pearce is Charlie Burns, the most reasonable of the three brothers, who has to seek out his older and wilder sibling (Danny Wilding) in Australia's vast nowhere in order to placate Stanley. But even when he does so, Stanley may or may not keep his word. A tale of broken promises (slowly) unfolds, as Stanley tries to capture his evasive foe in the most difficult of physical conditions.

While there are undoubtedly some who may find this an absorbing and thrilling affair (Nick Cave fans mainly, and possibly members of his family), most viewers are likely to feel that they themselves have flown to Australia and back by the time it has finished. It's an incredibly slow-moving film, steeped in deep pretensions. Scene after scene seems content to focus on the arid nature of the desert and the harsh conditions of the landscape with (worst of all) whispering voices flooding the soundtrack and becoming more and more tiresome. The script has a film school feel to it.

This has obviously escaped the attention of director John Hillcoat, who seems delighted to be working with one of Oz's biggest exports, and he grants Cave's script far too much respect. After all, it is a story that has been told many times before, but never quite as self-indulgently. John Hurt puzzlingly turns up as a loon who helps Pearce, and his appearance sums up the whole film: pointless, confusing and something of a waste of time for all concerned.

Paul Hurley