Early white Australian history shares many similarities with that of the American West.

There's a distinctively inhospitable landscape and lawless frontier, a race of people attacked and displaced by colonial settlers, and newfound land owners, unsuited to their new home.

It seems odd then that the Western genre is one that has thus far been noticeably absent from Australian Cinema.

Films such as Ned Kelly or The Man From Snowy River have touched on some of these themes, but it is only here that they have finally been embraced.

It takes place in an unnamed settlement on the Australian frontier, where a vicious rape and murder has just taken place.

Captain Stanley, an English Police Officer, is charged with the task of bringing those responsible to justice and the film opens with his apprehension of brothers Charlie and Mike Burns, played by Guy Pearce and Richard Wilson.

Suspecting that it is really the older brother Arthur who is responsible for these horrific acts, Stanley offers Charlie a Proposition: capture Arthur and both he and Mike will be granted a pardon.

Reluctantly, Charlie accepts, and begins the journey that will ultimately lead to the betrayal of his brother.

The Proposition's story is deceptively simple, but it allows director John Hillcoat the opportunity to fully explore a very disparate group of characters.

Working from famed Australian musician Nick Cave's script, none of the actors strike a false note. Ray Winstone, playing against type as the quiet and dignified Captain Stanley, really allows the audience to empathise with his struggle to both maintain order and do the right thing.

Guy Pearce is his usual quiet and intense self, Danny Huston full of evil and menace as the older brother Arthur, whilst Emily Watson seems to struggle at first as Stanley's wife, before it becomes clear that this struggle is merely a reflection of her difficulty in adapting to her surroundings and her troubled husband.

This is a violent and intense film, but an important one for Australian Cinema. Its portrayal of the Aboriginal people for once feels natural and crucial to the story, without political agenda, but still enormously relevant to a modern audience.

The widescreen vistas capture both the beauty and menace of the landscape that confronted these settlers, whilst Cave's whispering music perfectly complements the dark events that unfold.

At 100 minutes, the film's unremitting bleakness might make you glad when its over, but there's little doubt it packs an emotional punch.

Nick Forward