"Animal Kingdom" - REVIEW

Somewhere in the second half of David Michod's Animal Kingdom, Janine "Grandma Smurf" Cody (Jacki Weaver) tells dirty cop Randall Roche (Justin Rosniak), "You've done some baaaad thing, sweetie. 'Aven't ya?" What we know about Roche isn't all clear: we know he's helped the Cody family in their criminal exploits, but are there other, even more sinister things he's done? Were those actions just done out of malice or was there justification? We don't know, as is the case with most of the film. This trait, while initially frustrating (especially if you've been misled into thinking that this is the sort of crime drama filled with raids and shoot-outs), in the end works in Animal Kingdom's favor, to create a top shelf slice of Australian cinema (all the more impressive that it's a debut).

As is opens, perpetually sullen teen 'J' Cody (James Frecheville) has just witnessed his mother die from a heroine overdose. Unsure of what to do, he calls and is shortly taken in by Grandma Smurf, the family matriarch. She lives with (or at least spends a lot of time with) her four sons: family man Barry (Joel Edgerton), mama's boy Darren (Luke Ford), increasingly unhinged Craig (Sullivan Stapleton), and creepy eldest son Andrew (Ben Mendelsohn). When it seems like this is going to go down the typical cops vs. robbers story arc, Michod throws a curve-ball: the first act of violence that we see comes out of nowhere, calling into question which side is really more corrupt. Michod's use of violence is sparse and lasts but a few seconds, more akin to A Prophet than Inglourious Basterds, and each time it sends a jolt through your system. And, like a Greek or Shakespearean tragedy, its those brief little jolts of violence that move the plot along towards a finale that's bound to end badly.

Throughout it all, Michod and crew guide the film along with steady (occasionally too steady) pacing. This is a slow-burner of a film all the way through, though there are a few moments that let the flame die out completely due to pacing. Some of this, however, is countered by Antony Partos' ambient music, which keeps pace with the editing, and helps maintain your attention. Like the actual animal kingdom that populates our world, sometimes its those all-but-silent moments, those uneventful bits of calm before the flashes of violence, that are the most compelling. Still, Michod's screenplay keeps you on edge, never divulging more than it has to (and sometimes less than that) in order to keep the story together without playing all of its cards too soon.

The other big highlight (with one exception) is the cast, who have their parts nailed. Mendelsohn is perfectly, unnervingly eerie as the strange ring-leader Andy, and Guy Pearce as Det. Leckie provides a solid turn as a good man working for a police force tainted by corruption (for god's sake, will someone give this man some more lead roles soon?). But in what is otherwise a boy's game, the winner is Weaver's Janine. With a Brenda Blethyn-esque voice, Weaver effortlessly navigates between her character's ambiguities towards her sons and her grandson. The result is a bizarre, unsettling, almost kitten-ish form of concealed malice that really comes through in the film's superior second half. The only weak link is Frecheville. While the character is supposed to be something of a fish out of water, Frecheville comes dangerously close to being a black hole for the film, instead of a compelling center. In some ways it works in the plot's favor, but I can't help but think that someone with more expressive features could have turned scene after scene of downcast, blank staring into a more effective performance.

But by the time Animal Kingdom burns through to its conclusion, even Frecheville's performance seems like a minor complaint. This is skilled film making that (thankfully) manages to avoid taking sides. Both cops and robbers have their singular "good guys" (Leckie and J, respectively), but everyone else is left up to the audience. The Codys are criminals, yes, but how can we know for sure that the cops and justice system aren't just as corrupt? Sometimes, when films leave you talking, it's actually not a good thing; you unearth things that either didn't make sense or didn't satisfy emotionally or narratively. Animal Kingdom, thankfully, is quite the opposite. Discussion simply reveals seemingly out-of-the-blue events to have a genuine purpose, all in the context of a story that never goes exactly where you think it's going to.

Grade: B+/A-