“On Saturday 14th February 1900, a party of schoolgirls from Appleyard College picnicked at Hanging Rock near Mt. Macedon in the state of Victoria. During the afternoon, several members of the party disappeared without trace.”

“This we do for pleasure, so that we may shortly be at the mercy of venomous snakes and poisonous ants. How foolish can human creatures be.”

– Miss McCraw

It's not possible to be in nature, one can only be absorbed by it.

“The vicinity is reknowned for its venomous snakes and poisonous ants of various species. It is, however, a geological marvel.”

– Mrs. Appleyard

Short in gorgeous Technicolor, Muloorina tells about a small, arid town in Australia that one day finds itself on the world's stage. Kati Thanda–Lake Eyre, a local salt lake that hasn't seen a drop of rain in nine years, is the perfect spot for a landspeed record attempt by British daredevil Donald Campbell and his Bluebird.

 

A play of contrasts. The supersonic blue machine on the ancient white riverbed and the slowness of the eternal landscape versus something faster than should be possible. And meanwhile, the locals care for their land and animals, and wait for rain.

John Hillcoat's deeply unpleasant debut is based on In the Belly of the Beast (1981), a collection of excerpts of letters between prisoner Jack Henry Abbott and author Norman Mailer. True to the book's format, Ghosts consists of disjointed vignettes of monologues, #CCTV footage, title cards, and prisoners' phone calls.

 

For the last 37 months, these filters inform the observer, the hypermodern #supermax Central Industrial Prison has been in permanent lockdown. The cast, a mix of professional actors and ex-cons, and the location, a clean factory-style hangar in the middle of the Australian desert, underscore the underlying raw brutality of the unfolding events.

 

“Officer, come here. I wanna spit in your fucking eye!”

– Maynard

The #industrial soundtrack is by Bad Seed Nick Cave (co-writer and starring as Maynard), Mick Harvey, and Blixa Bargeld from when they were still closer to being birthday boys than morose crooners.