Then they spike her drink and chain her to a bed. They pick teenager Vicki (Ashleigh Cummings) up off the street, luring her with the prospect of weed. Much of the drama takes place in John (Curry) and Evelyn’s (Booth) suburban home. ‘RIP Dale Kerrigan, you were a sweet kid’: Stephen Curry with Emma Booth in Hounds of Love. Soon we’ll be up close and personal, hankering for distance. In this scene Young is reluctant to reveal the faces of the two sickos waiting in a nearby car. The camera capturing this zips along at a good pace, moving left to right in a tracking shot, meaning one side of the image is in constant motion and the other is almost still: an unusual and highly interesting effect. The opening shot reveals an after school netball match in slow motion so slow it takes a few moments to realise the players are actually moving. But any recommendation to see Hounds of Love needs to come with some caveats it’s not for the weak of stomach or the faint of heart. In sheer head-turning, artery-choking, disbelief-inducing style and chutzpah, this is a debut comparable to Snowtown (for Justin Kurzel) or The Babadook (for Jennifer Kent). I left the cinema clutching the walls and breathing deeply, wondering whether the guy should be locked up or declared some kind of genius. But Young has put a fresh and meaningful spin on a genre often preoccupied with cheap thrills. Hounds of Love is about the subjugation of women and male-inflicted abuse, from brutal violence involving strangers to psychological domination from long-term partners.

Do female murderers kill for a different reason than men? What are the best tools for horror film-makers to explore the psychology of destructive relationships? And, will we ever look at Stephen Curry the same way again? Conversation will naturally gravitate around the film’s horrific elements but the director has serious questions on the mind.

The hounds of love