"Dust Devil"

by Sean McTiernan

Horror movies are rarely beautiful. The gore can be impressive, the atmosphere can be expertly created, the cinematography but the movies are rarely allowed to be beautiful. Dust Devil is beautiful. And not just because they shot it in a desert. It’s a great piece of horror, a great western and a great piece of cinematic achievement all at once. Not bad for a demon in a cowboy hat.

Look no further than the opening scene. It manages to set up the movie both expressively and economically, in a fashion reminiscent of noir classic Murder By Contract. A woman is driving in the South African desert. She picks up a mysterious hitchhiker. She brings him back to her house. As they are having sex, he snaps her neck. The next morning we see the murder was only the beginning. The stranger has covered the house in occult symbols painted with the woman’s blood and viciously disfigured her corpse. Then he calmly drives away as the camera pulls back revealing the house in flames. He’s done this before.

Dust Devil is the story of a demon who wanders the South African bush, finding miserable people on the verge of the abyss and delivering them the ecstasy of being pushed in. It is also about the man who pursues him. All of this happens in a way that is so ethereal and strange you’ll swear you’ve dreamt it.

There is a lot going on in this movie. Some have said there is, in fact, a little too much going on. And to be fair, the movie does seem to be undecided as to whether it’s a commentary on South African politics, a meditation on despair or an exploration of spirituality. This makes it sound like a thematic car crash of Southland Tales proportion. It’s not. Because of its mesmeric, hypnotic pacing and aesthetic, these elements play off each other. Though war is mentioned throughout the film, it is never an overtly political movie. The emphasis is always on the misery of conflict.

Dust Devil initially seems completely random and more concerned with delivering a mood than a cogent story. Then the third act comes and everything, everything that seemed insignificant or even like filler, starts paying off. Not only does the film have its own logic, the logic works. It’s a movie that you want to watch several times. Fortunately, it’s a movie that is also a pleasure to watch.

The Dust Devil himself is enigmatic character. He’s not a lovable pun-merchant or a faceless, violent shape. When he first appears, you have the sinking feeling he’s going to be a wise-cracking cowboy. He’s not. He just kills miserable people and acts appropriately. He’s a frighteningly bullish and efficient killer and exudes a palpable sense of danger. The sinister calm with which he approaches his vocation is almost Beiber-like in its inhuman creepiness. His savagery is uncompromising.

If Dust Devil were a song, it’d be “Mind Playing Tricks On Me” by the Geto Boys. Both are understated, beautiful meditations on loneliness which use pure brutality and gallows humor to make their point heard. Both exist in genres rarely taken seriously but neither could be bested by any so-called “great works” in their efforts to convey the sad, soul-emptying sensation of being in a environment of violence and risk. And both give you exactly the amount of space you need to pour yourself into them and feel the same sort of creeping dread the as their characters.

This is the last fictional movie director Richard Stanley made. Between this and Hardware, he has created a cinematic legacy far greater than many who have had more chances to be bold and make a mark. Although the 17 year gap makes it seem unlikely, let’s hope he does get the opportunity to make another feature. Movies as rare, blood-thirsty and beautiful as Hardware and Dust Devil are in short supply.

Sean McTiernan has a blog and a Twitter. So does everyone though. He also has a podcast on which he has a nervous breakdown once an episode, minimum. In other words: it’s great for the gym.