Through a car window, the viewer sees a large empty deserted plain. All of the vegetation is clearly dried up, making it feel like a desert. The next image is a closeup profile of a man. He remains still, almost as lifeless and empty as the field in the previous image. Even when a few mosquitoes settle on his nose, he does not budge. After what seems like a few minutes, he gets up and out of the car.

This is how "The Rover," the latest film by director David Michod, opens. The film is set 10 years after what is referred to as "the collapse" that has essentially ended civilization in Australia. There is little information in the film about whether civilization exists outside Australia, but the world contained is one of depravity where morals cease to exist.

At the center of the film is the aforementioned man Eric (an unrecognizable Guy Pearce), a stoic man who seemingly lacks any sort of humanity. As the film starts he gets his car stolen and decides to chase after the perpetrators. He eventually loses sight of them when they attack him, and when he wakes up, he decides to continue the pursuit. Along the way he comes upon Rey (Robert Pattinson), the brother of one of the thieves, and Eric opts to take him along for the ride.

Eric, as he is called in the credits, never actually refers to his real name throughout the film. Instead he remains a mystery man that is more an agent of destruction than he is a real character. He seems to embody the cruelty of the world after the collapse. And Pearce's performance plays to this symbolic nature. Throughout the film, Eric becomes a brilliant piece of mis-en-scene. He symbolizes the static, dead world around him with his lack of movement. This could not be better represented than during a shot late in the film when he gets arrested. He sits in the back of a patrol car, completely frozen in place. Behind him, it is clear that the vehicle is in movement, but his fixed position actually makes the image feel static.

But Pearce's performance delves deeper into the psyche of the character, even though the viewer is never really allowed to know all that much about him. Even if his body movements are minimal to non-existent throughout, his eyes are rich with expression and they slowly break through the outer shell. The emotional release at the climax of the film is absolutely breathtaking as the character unleashes his inner suffering.

What makes Pearce's performance so wondrous is how it contrasts with that of Pattinson in the role of Rey. Where Pearce's character is firm and strong, invincible even, Pattison's is insecure, weak but endlessly loveable. From a physical perspective, Pattinson is also unrecognizable. The actor, known for his glamour in Hollywood, is almost deformed in this film. His teeth are rotted, starvation is visible all over his nimble figure and his natural paleness here makes him look like a ghost of sorts. Pattinson makes Rey a jittery fellow that stutters endlessly. His eyes, unlike those of Pearce's, are always in motion and always filled with a longing and pain. Like Pearce, he struggles to express his inner suffering, though it is clear from Pattinson's unsettling physicality that the character is trying to find an outlet to release his emotions.

One of the most poignant moments in the film features the two characters walking in a field with R&B music playing in the background. It seems like an odd choice for the sound track, especially in that moment, but it allows Michod to emphasize the emptiness of the world in contrast to the energy of music long gone. In doing so, the music itself, a catchy tune that energizes the viewer, comes off as banal and pointless. This idea is furthered in the ensuing shot when the camera shows Rey trying to sing along to the tune. But he can barely follow along, despite his best efforts. He does not fit in that world and that world no longer fits in his.

The pace is unsurprisingly slow, but it helps express the mood of decay. It does take some time to get into, but as the relationship grows, so does the energetic nature as well. The climax is unquestionably riveting and the final images, while seemingly hopeful, speak to the emptiness of healing in a dying world. Is it really possible? And even if people are able to overcome the past in some way, what good is it to a construct a future in a world that has none?

The film is violent, highlighting its nihilistic themes, almost to the point of absurdity. But it does not detract from its purpose and the overall work is a creative masterpiece.

"The Rover" is easily one of the finest films of the last few years and has firmly established Michod as one of the greatest directors of the current generation.