James Cameron’s name is plastered all over the advertising material for Sanctum (he acted as executive producer) but precious few of the filmmaker’s signature touches have made it into this Australian adventure thriller. There’s no sci-fi, no strong female characters, and little in the way of dependable dialogue. Even the script could have done with CamBam’s workmanlike groove to sort out its deficiencies.
Sanctum is very much an Australian film, albeit an Australian film made for foreign markets. By this I mean there are plenty of cringe-inducing, wooden ockerisms thrown about as Frank McGuire (Richard Roxburgh) and his hardy crew of can-do larrikins go about exploring a massive cave system hollowed into the side of a Papa New Guinean mountain. Frank is convinced that the cave runs under the mountain and into the sea, and he’s determined to find the route.
Of course, for every salt of the earth, hard working Aussie there’s a blowhard moneyman in control of the operation. In Sanctum it’s Carl (Horatio Hornblower Ioan Gruffudd, swimming upstream against an appalling American accent), a glory-seeking adventurer who is funding Frank’s research. Carl has a grudging respect for Frank and his achievements, but is much closer to Frank’s son, Josh (Rhys Wakefield).
Carl and Josh join Frank’s subterranean expedition right when a storm is blowing in. Of course, the characters make all sorts of underestimations and poorly reasoned judgement calls, leading them to become stranded underground just as the storm turns into a cyclone and the cave begins to flood. It won’t be long before people start dying and the survivors bicker with each other over what to do next.
Watching Sanctum is initially a groan-worthy experience. The early dialogue dealt to the players is abysmal, and the performers struggle as a result. On top of this, the clichés are quickly ordered and stacked: Josh and Frank don’t get along, Carl and Frank don’t get along, Carl’s risk-taking jeopardises the crew, Frank’s grouchiness alienates the crew. Making things worse are some rudimentary special effects highlighted by Sanctum’s 3D viewing experience.
I think I’ve done my dash with 3D: the hit in brightness is bad enough in a normal film, but is particularly frustrating when taking on the darker hues of Sanctum. Perhaps it added to the claustrophobia, but I’d have to watch it again without glasses to know, and I suspect that the film would have been better without the technology.
Still, when the talking stops, the action starts and you no longer have the time to decipher some of the ropier special effects, Sanctum improves considerably. It’s a solid high-concept idea for a film, and director Alister Grierson and his crew nail many of the set pieces. Screenwriters Andrew Wight and John Garvin weren’t afraid to up the bodycount either, which is refreshing by modern standards, and helps Sanctum avoid the ‘Goonies on Steroids’ tag (with Dan Wyllie as Chunk) it was in danger of earning.
Roxburgh too is much more convincing as a leading man once the action starts: it may be Josh’s story, but it’s the hardened figure of Frank who makes most of the decisions. Wakefield does a decent job of playing the younger central character and Wyllie is an engaging presence as Frank’s trusted number two, although Gruffudd remains woeful throughout as Carl you can’t really blame him, given what he has to work with. The rest of the cast hardly rate a mention, the ladies in particular being given precious little to do.
Things drag quite a bit towards the end of Sanctum, and the order of demise could have been fine-tuned for the sake of raising the stakes, but by and large this is a solid genre film. Despite its by the numbers nature and appalling dialogue, the script is a work of art compared to some of the screenwriting Australia produces. Take some earplugs for the first 20 minutes and don’t be afraid to mentally check out before the end, but Sanctum deserves to do decent business.
I say:
If the action scenes weren’t up to snuff I’d remember a lot more of the bad, but Sanctum is worth seeing, particularly if you enjoy exploring the outer limits of your claustrophobia.
See it for:
Hornblower’s battle cry.
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