#26. Rogue (2007, McLean)
By Eivind Langdal
1st December 2009

Those of you with a memory (or the ability to read the index to the left) might know that the first film I reviewed for this merry column was Greg McLean’s Wolf Creek, a film that acted as an anti-advertisement for the Australian tourism industry. McLean’s sophomore effort, Rogue, seems to be built on the principle that the country should dispose of tourists altogether. Like his debut, the director opens the film with a long build-up consisting of a lot of beautiful shots of the Australian wilderness, but soon enough, the film’s main characters (almost all of them tourists) find themselves battling a foe that doesn’t care how much awe they are of the country’s nature life, as it’s out for blood.

In Wolf Creek, the villain was a lone drifter who was like a mix of psychopath and Crocodile Dundee. This time, the “Dundee” has gone AWOL (whatever that means). If I need to spell it out for you, the villain is a crocodile this time around. Now, some of you might back off a bit when hearing that bit, seeing as few films revolving around crocodiles are what you’d call masterpieces. Rogue is not a masterpiece either, but it is a lot better than what you might expect. Hell, if you’re in the right mood, it might be quite a good film. That it isn’t quite a good film in any mood is because McLean still hasn’t gotten rid of some of the weaknesses that plagued Wolf Creek.

In fact, it you take a closer look at the film, it is at times so identical to Wolf Creek that one might wonder if McLean just rewrote the script by inserting a few new characters and another villain and hoped no one would notice. There is, for instance, the aforementioned long build-up of beautiful shots of nature (things doesn’t really start happening for at least 30 minutes). There is also the false alarm as the main characters almost get themselves in a fight with the locals but miraculously manage to talk their way out of it. Then, there is a vehicle breaking down that turns the previously beautiful nature into a prison with no walls (but with a lot of kilometers separating the characters and any form of civilization). Oh yeah, and there’s a bloody carnage at the end.

But for some reason, it works. These similarities become apparent only in retrospect, and not while watching the film (unless you are reading this review before seeing it, which means this is a perfect opportunity for me to apologize to you for spoiling some of the fun). While McLean might be guilty of repeating his bad habits once too often, he is luckily guilty of repeating his good ones too. Once again, he refuses to write characters that are basic horror characters. The people in this film are ordinary people. When they get themselves in danger, you are always on their side (well, save for that part where one of them does something incredibly stupid, which I won’t give away here, because you’ll notice it yourself when you see the film).

What happens is this: a group of tourists have embarked on a river journey to see the wildlife. Guiding them is a young woman who teaches them a few helpful facts about crocodiles (they can swim up to 20 miles an hour underwater without making a single ripple, and will learn the habits of its prey and then use them for its advantage). On the way back, they suddenly see a flash in the distance. After some discussion, they decide to go back and check it out, but before they know it, they have stranded on a small island. In the water is a gigantic crocodile that will devour them alive if they don’t get into safety fast enough. The problem is, the tide is slowly doing some devouring of its own, as by nighttime the island will be completely flooded, and the tourists will be sitting ducks for their amphibious antagonist.

McLean creates much tension as the water slowly makes its way up the sand. The characters get more and more nervous (quite understandable) and as hope starts to flicker away, they become desperate for solutions that can help them. What could be expected here would be for McLean to unleash some unnecessary deus ex machinas, but he never gives us the dissatisfaction. He is cruel to his characters and plays with them, but has given them so much intelligence so that when they come up with solutions to their ever-growing problem, it never feels false or constructed.

If you have been thinking of Jaws at least once while reading this review, you do indeed know your way around movie similarity. It’s nearly impossible not to think of Steven Spielberg’s masterpiece while watching Rogue. Sure, they are different films, but a film like Jaws is so defining in its genre that directors who make films with underwater animal villains simply has to deal with that the fact that what they make is going to compared to it. McLean is no Spielberg, and Rogue is no Jaws, but then again, who and what the hell is?