Film Review--Dust Devil (1993)

It’s not a secret that I actively seek out foreign genre movies. I am particularly fond of international westerns and horror, though for different reasons. Because the western is really native to the US, international entries often carry bizarre interpretations of the American West that directly comment on our society and our own (I still have yet to see the East German westerns Erik spoke of a while ago, but I will). Horror is different, though. There is a history of spirits, boogeymen, and animal monsters in cultures all over the world. The details vary by place and time, but there is always something in a story parents tell that keeps children from sleeping at night. Moreover, these ideas manifest themselves in the fetishes of the culture to make wildly different horror concoctions. Whether it’s the themes of ancestor worship in Japanese film, the operatic excesses in Italian film, or the obscene celebrity-worship of human monsters in American film, each culture has something to offer the genre, I eat these details up. South African director Richard Stanley’s 1993 Dust Devil has the interesting distinction of offering aspects of both westerns and horror, along with a flooring cinematographic vision.

The dust devil (played by Robert Burke, who’s biggest credits include such greats as Lambada and Robocop 3) is a spirit from the other side, manifested on Earth and stuck with one desire: to return to the spirit world. The only way he can build strength, though, is to absorb the spirits of the living and, finally, when he has enough, he will return and his shadow will no longer cast itself over our world. Until that time comes, though, there will be quite a lot of blood spilled in profoundly ritualistic fashion. The dust devil prefers the ease of prey in the depressed and downtrodden; those at their emotional limits will quickly find that things can get much, much worse for them. His latest target is Wendy (Chelsea Field, who’s own illustrious work includes Harley Davidson and the Marlboro Man and Flipper…oooh), a lost soul who recently left her husband and is on the verge of suicide (not because she left her husband, though). She is driving out of South Africa to the Skeleton Coast in Namibia where she will start a new life. She picks up a hitchhiker along the way though who, typically, seems nice at first, but will let his colors show soon enough. The story is of the basic “chase and escape” style and works efficiently through this while the subplot of a recently deposed police chief who is trying to solve a series of murders plaguing the coastal town of Bethanie converges on the cat-and-mouse game to fight a battle of the spirit.

I suppose that, if I understood more about Southwestern African shamanism, the plot details would make more sense. As is stands, I don’t know what many of the symbols represent, but that does not obscure their clear intent. A clear understanding aside, the main icon used is the spiral, which is used everywhere; designs drawn on walls, formations on walls, a car driving away from a burning building, even the tracking sequences are shot in spirals. This rare consistency of vision gives the film its power, which could never be achieved through the story or performances alone. Stanley’s vision becomes even more evident in the way the film is photographed in general. The vast desert shots hypnotize the viewer in a deliberate way, and the utterly slow track through the landscape only intensifies the effect. Then, just when his spell takes hold, he unleashes a shot of immense visual power. It is almost hard to believe that such visions exist on this planet. The strongest example comes in a scene in which the Dust Devil takes Wendy, before she realizes his monstrosity, to a place of great spirituality to the indigenous people, a canyon. Feeling the romantic power of the spot, Wendy grabs him and kisses him, at which time the camera spirals out from the pair and into the sky to reveal Fish River Canyon, the second largest canyon on Earth in jaw-dropping splendor. This truly unbelievable shot hammers home the fact that the vision in the cinematography is no accident; that everything is here for a purpose, no matter how obscure the reference may be. These references are vast, culling pop culture, spiritual beliefs, and political issues from America, Europe, and Africa. The titular character, itself is best described by Stanley as “…a synthesis of Leone’s Man with No Name, the bushman “Nagtloper” and the devil himself, portrayed in the script as an incubus, a demon lover from the id who exists only to lead Ben [the former chief] and Wendy to their deaths.” Dust Devil, both in character and in film, is of a broad swath of cultures but evokes very specific ideas which are, in turn, very well realized both by Burke’s strange and stilted performance and Stanley’s determined focus.

I’d heard a few very mixed things about Dust Devil over the years, but had never seen it. It was recently re-released on Subversive Cinema DVD in the “Final Cut,” which adds around twenty minutes of footage previously cut from the original and, apparently, incomprehensible, American release. I may not have picked it up at all, though, if it hadn’t been packaged in a “limited edition” five disc set that I will happily say is one of the finest DVD releases I have ever seen. Included with the film is a longer working print of the film (which gives additional political and character background), a thoroughly entertaining, if highly unbelievable, production diary that chonicles the cursed shoot and tragic aftermath of the release of the film, the phenomenal score from Simon Boswell on CD, and three unrelated documentaries (Secret Glory, about Otto Rahn, the SS officer who’s sole drive in life was to find the Holy Grail; Voice of the Moon, originally made for UNICEF, on the events leading up to and just following the Soviet occupation of Afghanistan; The White Darkness, describing Haitian voodou ritual and the real spirituality of a very old, often thought evil, religion, all of which I may discuss later). Dust Devil: The Final Cut truly is a fantastic release that gives very deep views into the anthropological and spiritual world of Richard Stanley. Bravo to Subversive for breathing new life into an almost forgotten film.