THE STORY: Martin David (Willem Defoe) is a mercenary for hire, very good at his job, and sought after by those with large sums of money needing to solve discreet situations. He’s approached by a company called Red Leaf, in the business of biotech military applications. They have an unusual request, find and extract DNA samples from an animal called the thylacine, better known as the Tasmanian tiger. Problem is, the creature is classified as extinct though recent sighting suggest otherwise. The larger problem is, Martin’s ordered to find and eliminate the animal, ensuring its extinction, ensuring no competitors could duplicate Red Leaf’s seemingly nefarious use of the specimen.
Appearing cold-hearted and ruthlessly diligent, Martin seems perfect for the job, and as such, traveling under the guise of a university biologist, books a room in the countryside home of Lucy Armstrong (Frances O’Connor) and her two young children Katie (Morgan Davies) and Jamie (Finn Woodlock). He discovers that Lucy is nearly catatonic, taking medications that keep her mostly bedridden though medication, overwhelmingly grief-stricken after the disappearance of her husband, an environmentalist who went into the forests nearby and never came back. But while initially, Martin has no interest by any of this, and is indeed frustrated by the complications, the further into the forests he goes in search of his prey, the further he becomes involved in the story of the Armstrong’s and their relationship with the fabled Tasmanian tiger.
REVIEW: The Hunter is, despite its aggressive title, a solemn and quiet film, lingering on slow, silent moments of an isolated man–in nearly every sense of the word–working his way toward discovery. Defoe is perfectly cast, a thing I hate writing, but is in fact, true here, his expressive face speaking volumes to his authority of the role. It’s the smaller things that make him so good to watch, in movies like Antichrist, The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou, and The Lighthouse, to name just a few where he becomes magnetic, our eyes unable to peel away, almost magically drawn to his face. As Martin David, he carries on his back the weight of deep cover, the need to be unseen, his walls so thick around him he seems made of concrete. But this is only a facade.
That’s what makes director and co-writer Daniel Nettheim‘s film so riveting, his use of sparsity of dialogue and setting, allowing Defoe and the wilderness he explores to seize us with mystery and emotion. We watch as Martin meticulously examines the soil and trees, the very air itself, searching for a thing that in all probability doesn’t exist. But we know it does. We know it because the clues to Lucy’s husband’s loss tells us so. We know because the local loggers and a group of ‘greenie’ environmentalists are in conflict, and we know this because a man name Jack Mindy (Sam Neill) is an ever troubling presence at the Armstrong home.
While the film may not meet the expectations of a viewer wanting a fast-paced eco-thriller, The Hunter is nonetheless gripping, simply because it avoids those expectations, crafting a non-conventional story that puts a lot of the effort on those watching. Answers two questions come visually, nothing spelled out, so we deduce why Lucy is being drugged, learn why her children are drawn to Martin, and understand the role Lucy’s husband had in why Martin is even in the story. It’s a chilling, dark, and tragic tale that is often beautiful and ethereal in leading us to its end.
A GREAT MOMENT: Much of the film takes place in the dense forests of Tasmania, Martin trekking about in day’s-long jaunts, setting traps and marking territories. He returns to the Armstrong’s each time, and each time he grows closer to the family. At one point, while he is actually helping to prepare a meal with them, an obvious familial connection binding them, a phone call interrupts, instructing him to stay focused and leave behind the Armstrong’s, implying that Red Leaf has eyes on his progress. So he does, he packs up immediately, planning to venture out one more time, even at the protest of Lucy, who become angered with his obsession, leading to a shot of him in the car leaving, looking up as Lucy and Katie on the raised deck, holding each other at the house, watching him go, and then down the road, Martin meeting Jamie on this little bike, the boy stopping but saying nothing as Martin appears to contemplate his choices before driving off.
The implication of these two moments don’t really resonate until the end of the film when it all has much greater meaning, and upon reflecting, realizing exactly what the story is saying in these goodbyes. I won’t spoil what that is, because it is essential to the message behind everything Martin is doing and at what cost it carries.
FINAL THOUGHTS: Beautifully photographed by cinematographer Robert Humphreys, The Hunter is a unique experience, that many not work for those taken in by more of the current explosive action of popular movies, but is one I recommend either way. It’s rare to find a film that says so much with so little, and it is Defoe’s delivery of an obsession, sacrifice, and evolution that makes this what to watch.