Ken Loach's Fatal Attraction is a good description of Rupert Glasson’s psycho-drama, despite the title promising wild rock n’ roll horror.
Glasson scores in the earlier scenes, establishing the coastal town of Coffin Rock and its salty fishermen and sketching out Taylor and Chappell's central relationship, even if the script finally dumps the character drama in favour of kidnappings and dead kangaroos.
He is assisted by Chappell’s mature performance, in both age and ability, as a woman yearning for a family, managing her husband’s feelings of inadequacy and aversion to IVF, and becoming terrified by her stalker’s omnipresence.
Taylor assuredly shifts from a frustrated wannabe dad to tender father-to-be to wounded avenging hubby, and Parsonson's promising calling card turn allows him to turn his loony-dial up all the way up and affect a solid Irish accent.
A better movie would have maintained the tension and kept Parsonson’s Evan on a simmer, but Glasson and those Wolf Creek moneymen clearly wants the film seen by large audiences. Ramping up the thriller elements, Glasson has Parsonson watching TV in the rain, yabbering into dead telephones, chewing raw fish in half, and cutting a violent swathe through the townsfolk toward the vulnerable Jess.
Hamstrung by its commitment to ticking off these stalker clichés, but recommended for its earlier, subtler scenes, great location photography, and Chappell's film-carrying charisma.