Sydney 2011 Review: HOBO WITH A SHOTGUN

rating: 4

Hobo With A Shotgun has all the hallmarks of an unapologetically sleazy vigilante thriller that is akin to the likes of Street Trash and Death Wish. But instead of Vic Noto or Charles Bronson at the helm we have cult favourite nutcase Rutger Hauer. The esteemed Dutchman has had an interesting, if somewhat unfulfilled, career giving nevertheless memorably menacing performances in the likes of Blade Runner and The Hitcher, not forgetting early credits which harkens back to pre-Hollywood Paul Verhoeven (Turkish Delight, Soldier of Orange) and forward to appearances in big budget blockbuster fare such as Batman Begins and Sin City. In the lead role of a homeless grunt with a grudge to bare, Hauer is splendidly re-affirmed - riding into Hope Town on a freight train, his weather-beaten features dominating the Technicolor widescreen in close up as he chomps on a harmonica and manically screws his face up, while 70s style titles and music punctuate his arrival. It's clear from the outset what debutant director Jason Eisner has in store: a mythical love letter to those seedy Grindhouse films of yesteryear dressed up as a quasi-spaghetti western. Hobo evolved from a phoney trailer included on the (Canadian only) release of Tarantino's Grindhouse (the second to do so following last year's disappointing Machete) and Eisner certainly doesn't skimp on the blood-drenched heritage of that era. In fact he surpasses them; from aloof decapitations, to showgirls dancing in blood showers and leg crossing dismemberment, Hobo has more than enough to make torture porn pioneer Eli Roth blush with envy. Colourful, broadly painted antagonists populate the scenery from a maniacal underworld crime family to a detestable thoroughly corrupt police force - this is Skid Row at its most debauched - a thieving, corrupt hellhole where crazed sadist loonies get off on filming tramps undertake self-harming acts of torture for money and girls bask in the gory blood-soaked violence. Hobo has had enough of it all and instead of using his fistful of dimes on a prized lawnmower he purchases a shotgun with the intent of cleaning up the lawless hellhole. The oddball tone is one of the joys of Hobo as is the purposely bad dialogue which is kept deliciously deadpan. The way Hauer chews on his words and spits them out prior to his vigilante onslaught is also one of the pleasures, as is the brutality of the titillating carnage on offer. But it isn't all bloody mayhem (well it is mostly) - a surprisingly potent and touching bond is established between Hauer's nameless hobo and the gutsy whore (Molly Dunsworth) with a heart he warms to. Scenes between them are warm and strangely captivating, yet peppered with gloriously fun nuance - none so hilarious than when Hauer teases her childhood admiration for cuddly 'teddy' bears with a tongue-in-cheek bedtime horror rendition that gets down to the deadly nature of the beast. In its reckless brutality Eisner does exactly what he sets out to do - delivering a no-holds bare pastiche of the exploitation era with giddy over the top panache, a sterling central performance, a Technicolor scheme that borders on kaleidoscopic along with characters that are splendidly excessive. How can you possibly criticise a film that admits to having no pretences and shamelessly does exactly what it sets out to do? Self-indulgence nonsense? For sure. But what fun self-indulgent nonsense all the same. Last month, we interviewed Hobo With A Shotgun director Jason Eisener. Oliver Pfeiffer, our man in Oz attending the Sydney Film Festival. Check out all his reviews HERE.