Mr. Wrong

In some of the best and brightest New Zealand documentaries, Gaylene Preston has exhibited a flair for demonstrating that things are not always as we commonly perceive them, so it’s not surprising that her first fiction feature may sound like a contradiction in terms; a thriller with very little in the way of explicit blood-letting or special effects. Heather Bolton is perfectly cast as Meg, a nice gal from the country who moves to the city and declares her autonomy by buying herself a lovely large Jag. Gradually she is forced to acknowledge that this car is making some most uncarlike noises and that it’s making her the object of the attentions of a thoroughly unpleasant young man who seems to materialise out of thin air. It would be more than unusually unfair to reveal much more of the engrossing plot which is divulged in true thriller/ghost story fashion and makes ample use of its many red herrings, each of which has a neat ideological kickback. Thriller expectations are juxtaposed and interplayed with the expectations and fears of everyday life with which Preston displays a genial, perceptive familiarity. As the mystery thickens, Mr. Wrong builds up into a funny, nervy funk. What our heroine’s most scared of is paranoia and we’re given every reason to identify with her every inch of the way as she refuses to become anybody’s victim. Preston kids along the thriller conventions she clearly enjoys, springing twists in them and interrogating the genre for its inbuilt sexism all the while treating her audience to a thoroughly spooky good time. —New Zealand Film Festival