There are no obnoxious teenagers in “Wolf Creek,” nor are there ghosts,
possessed children, haunted Web sites or supernaturally produced videotapes.
There isn’t even an Asian horror film upon which to base the screenplay.

Instead, there is desolation, real terror and one hell of a villain in
rural Australia in Greg McLean’s energetically gritty bit of low-budget
showmanship, which is basically “The Texas Chainsaw Massacre” or even “Open
Water” in the Outback.

The concept is simple — two girls and guy in their 20s are stranded
while on their way to a camping site and fall into the hands of a serial
killer. Just these four, locked in mortal combat, with countless miles of
desolation separating them from the nearest human beings.

This film struck a chord in Australia, where it ruled the box office for
weeks because it is based on a notorious and controversial true story. It’s
also a darned good — if stomach-churning — movie, sharply filmed (in
high-definition video) and edited.

What’s effective about the film is not what happens but how it goes down.
McLean takes care to flesh out (no pun intended) the characters so that you get
to know them well, and thus, when it comes time for it, you feel every slice.

But we are getting ahead of ourselves.

Ben (Nathan Phillips) is a young Australian surfer with a cheap station
wagon. He and two British tourists — Liz (Cassandra McGrath) and Kristy
(Kestie Morassi) — take a road trip to Wolf Creek, where a huge meteor
crater lends an added loneliness to the desolation.

The three have car trouble (natch) and are happened upon by a redneck
truck driver, Mick (John Jarratt), whose long and distinguished career in
Australian film and television includes Peter Weir’s “Picnic at Hanging Rock”).

Mick offers to fix the car, but he has to tow them back to his small town
to make the repairs. He offers to do it for free. Desperate and broke, the
three travelers agree.

Bad mistake.

Mick doesn’t live in a small town; he lives in an encampment that seems
hundreds of miles from the nearest town. He does have tools. He just doesn’t
use them to fix cars.

Jarratt is mercilessly entertaining in the type of role that normally is
beaten into cliche. No wonder Quentin Tarantino, ever the international genre
plunderer, has declared Jarratt his favorite Australian actor and has cast him
in his next project, “Grind House.”

This is a grim and bloody movie, there’s no doubt about it. But McLean
also directs his actors in a convincingly natural style and gives us landscapes
worthy of “Mad Max” or “Walkabout”; he has a terrific eye for composition.

This is some horror flick.

– Advisory: This film contains violence, profanity and nudity.

E-mail G. Allen Johnson at ajohnson@sfchronicle.com.