Two men meet, by chance, on a bus to anywhere.  Seeking to pass the time, Paul (Steve Mouzakis) strikes up a conversation with Henry (Sean Harris), and when they discover they have both been up against some hard times, Paul introduces Henry to Mark (Joel Edgerton), a colleague of his in a criminal organization that can create a new identity for Henry if the man proves loyal and useful.  Eager to leave his troubled past behind him and start over, Henry accepts and begins running jobs with Mark, but not everyone can be trusted in this shadowy organization.  

The Stranger is a taught thriller that debuted at Cannes before receiving its wide release on Netflix.  Written and directed by Thomas M. Wright, the film is based on the kidnapping and murder of thirteen-year-old Daniel Morcombe, which led to one of the most extensive undercover operations in Australian criminal history.  The film is a slow burn, to say the least, and it is reminiscent of the earlier crime films of David Fincher, Christopher Nolan, and Denis Villeneuve in its tone and layered construction.  From the first frame to the last, there is this overwhelming feeling of dread and the simmering powerhouse performance by both Edgerton and Harris keeps audiences on edge as their precision with their roles never veers into the damaging realm of melodrama. 

The way Wright constructs the film is unsettling at every turn.  There are so many points where editor Simon Njoo cuts the scene just a few frames too early, yet he never disorients his audience.  Rather, this small trick, in addition to the score (by Oliver Coates) and shadowy framing (cinematography by Sam Chiplin), all set the hook, and when he jolts his camera into the next scene, the hook drives deeper and deeper into us.  We never feel totally left in the dark which is a hard line to walk in a thriller that needs to inspire intrigue but cannot be too stingy with doling out information and clues to the mystery.  In the case of The Stranger, that mystery is slowly revealed to be a cat-and-mouse game between Henry and the criminal justice system who initiated an undercover operation to bring Henry in for a the kidnapping and murder charges of which he was accused.  For audiences at home, who have the omnipresent benefit of following a tandem storyline lead by Detective Kate Rylett (Jada Alberts), the mystery for us becomes whether or not Henry is guilty. 

While Edgerton delivers a strong performance, aided by the unease around the presence and introduction of his son (Cormac Wright), Harris really runs away with the film.  His performance is incredibly unsettling and as it slowly unfolds, he is careful not to play his hand too quickly.  Harris navigates the film in such a way that we are never quite sure of when he is telling the truth, and his actions also help to disprove the concurrent police investigation’s findings which builds an uneasy sympathy towards Henry.  Harris makes us feel the danger of Henry, not unlike he threatens Mark in the film though his very existence.  Because we know so much about Henry’s case file, especially at the turn of the second into third act, there is an incredible feeling of fear and dread that washes over us, and not to mention, disgust, too. 

Wright is acutely tuned in to the audience’s expectations of thriller narratives as he sows seeds, allows them to take root, but never lets them fully bloom.  The interesting thing is that this teasing of concepts and plot never feels cheap – there is no resentment from audience to Wright for setting this trap – rather, it all works in favor of the narrative because while we are looking left, he is setting up the next trick just over to the right.  Like a good magician, a good storyteller lays the foundation so organically that their audience is wholly unaware, and therefore unable to track its next moves and Wright proves his prowess over storytelling in this most recent outing.  It is hard to even call his distractions red herrings in the grand scheme of the plot because everything he sets up in regards to the police’s case against Henry comes back into play eventually.  At best, it can be argued that Mark’s son is used as emotional bait and little else, but even that stance tends to waver and collapse when viewed in the larger context of the narrative.  Mark’s son is one of his touchstones back to reality, and when viewed as such, his presence and those cut away scenes to their shared home life become essential to the story as they serve as a barometer for how Mark is handling this ever-darkening case. 

The Stranger is a perfectly executed thriller that is not looking to reinvent the genre, but rather it takes all of the familiar setups and story beats and executes them all with the greatest precision. What results is an incredibly dark and twisted ride through the Australian underground that never reveals itself too early. These undercover stories are so inherently captivating, just look at Mike Newell’s Donnie Brasco (1997) or Martin Scorsese‘s The Departed (2006). The ever-evolving allegiances and the allure of the rewards, and recognition of the risks, of turning to a criminal lifestyle make for an exciting story, but they are not so easy to pull off. The lazy versions feel uninspired, pale imitations to the giants of the genre, and Wright is acutely aware of that trap so he takes his narrative, with the benefit of being based in some truly upsetting and unsettling truth, and turns the story conventions on their head. The familiar elements help to keep audiences oriented as Henry and Mark plumb deep into the darkest corners of the criminal soul, and as Wright continues to twist the screw of tension, he reassures us with Mark’s words of comfort reminding us of the importance of breathing ; of finding a light to guide us home.