Brooding and atmospheric, the Aussie crime saga Animal Kingdom is an incredibly well-composed feature debut from director David Michôd.
It immediately ranks with the best of Australian crime movies, which include Chopper and Romper Stomper; but unlike those graphic, in-your-face cult classics, Animal Kingdom is a surprisingly mannered and introspective film that plays out like a Shakespearian tragedy.
From the opening frames, the film grabs hold and doesn’t let go: young highschooler Joshua ‘J’ Cody (James Frecheville) sits on a couch next to his motionless mother, watching a game show on TV. Paramedics show up.
“What’s she on?” “Heroin.” His mother is dead, and probably has been for a while, but you wouldn’t know it from Joshua’s emotionless eyes, which keep drifting back to the television.
Unsure how to proceed, Joshua phones up his grandmother Janine ‘Smurf’ (Jacki Weaver), who he hasn’t seen in years. There’s a good reason for that (even if the actual reason is a disagreement over the rules of a card game): granny is the Ma Barker-like matriarch of a family of outlaws, which include brothers Darren (Luke Ford), Craig (Sullivan Stapleton) and Andrew ‘Pope’ Cody (Ben Mendelsohn), and friend Barry Brown (Joel Edgerton).
Without many options, Joshua is thrust into this family’s life of crime; Craig is a drug dealer, and Pope and Barry are armed robbers. They’re currently laying low, with Pope in hiding following a successful job.
The other side of the law isn’t much better: the first time we see the police they gun down an unarmed man inside of his car. Soon, a friendly detective (Guy Pearce) shows up to provide a potential out for Joshua: will he adapt to a life of crime, or turn against his family?
Animal Kingdom is a startlingly sparse and matter-of-fact film that frequently reminded me of Michael Mann’s Public Enemies.
Director Michôd’s greatest strength, like his main character, is an emotional detachment from the events in the film that allows him to precisely document his characters and their situation without getting caught up in melodrama. The finale, in particular, is chilling and effective.
The cast is exceptional: young Frecheville carries the film with a quiet and affecting performance as the youth torn between right and wrong. Mendelsohn and (especially) Weaver are downright frightening in their roles; Weaver has a particularly unsettling scene late in the film where she explains the logic behind a startling decision.
An uneasy tension builds throughout Animal Kingdom, and it lingers even after the credits have rolled. Michôd manages to draw creepy vibes from the most mundane things, even Air Supply’s I’m All Out of Love. The film isn’t for everyone, but it won’t be easily forgotten.
One Response