The Wound

Mr. Trengove shoots the film in intimate wide-screen, getting in close to the performers as their characters tamp down explosive feelings, often letting the spectacular landscapes behind them break down into soft-focus abstractions. His direction is perfectly judged up to and including the shudder-inducing ending.

The result is a dark and stirring variation on the standard coming-of-age narrative that, much like its central characters, does not follow the path one might expect.

It’s a strange mix: the posturing of the younger boys is funny, but behind their literal dick measuring is the threat of violence.

The Wound is rich in such small, observational details.

The plot ends in a place that feels honest and true, but it gets lost in a kind of narrative no-man’s land on its way there.

Against the backdrop of a coming-of-age ritual, The Wound finds its greatest insights in contrasts between tradition and modernity.

The writing in The Wound can be conventional and overly explanatory, but this doesn’t matter because the subject is so fresh.