Family can be a funny thing.
It can, at times, be wonderful, warm and welcoming, while at other times it can be frightening, infuriating and difficult. This juxtaposition of familial relations forms the basis of David Michôd’s Animal Kingdom.
The film centers around 17-year-old Joshua “J” Cody (Aussie newcomer James Frecheville), who, after his mother’s sudden death, is thrown into a less-than-perfect living situation with his remaining family, which consists of his three uncles and grandmother.
The difficulty in this arrangement lies in that his uncles — Craig, Darren and Pope — are the heads of a well-known Melbourne crime family in a violent power struggle with the local police. And although the family is welcoming to young J and his girlfriend Nicky (another newcomer, Laura Wheelwright), the tumultuous life of crime is not exactly what he is used to.
Not only do all of the Cody brothers dabble in drugs, ranging from marijuana to heroin, but they also all have unpredictable anger issues. So when business partner and family friend Barry Brown (Joel Edgerton, The Waiting Game), who is seemingly the most level-headed of the group, is killed by police, the brothers vow to enact revenge, throwing the family into even more danger than before.
It is here where the movie’s deep subtleties begin to shine. J is, for all intents and purposes, the narrator of the story, as most of the film is seen from his perspective. But because we see the action unfolding from his viewpoint, we are as new to most of the information as he is, and we share the same skepticism about his uncles and grandmother.
Everyone from his family members to the officers on the Codys’ case, led by Nathan Leckie (Guy Pearce, The Road), seem to be playing a game of deception in which the only objective is maintaining personal well-being. This game is one that J is terribly unprepared for, and as each side intensifies its interest in him, both J and the audience are hesitant to sincerely believe anything said by either side.
Animal Kingdom is a sprawling film that showcases a gritty underworld with gripping reality. There are no elaborate shootouts or outlandish police chases; instead, the film has a very genuine and authentic feel to it — a feel that can, at times, be quite unsettling.
But that’s due to Michôd’s steady hand behind the camera. It feels almost as if Alejandro González Iñárritu’s penchant for extreme drama mixes with a Coen Brothers-esque crime plot to create a very fresh take on a played-out genre. It’s no wonder the film was the winner of the Grand Jury World Cinema prize at this year’s Sundance festival.
But what truly makes the film an astounding watch is how no character can truly be trusted. Each of J’s uncles are criminals in every sense of the word, and their motives are questionable from the start. His grandmother Janine is blindly supportive of her sons, as is the family lawyer, a shifty man who clashes with J from the beginning. The police only try to use J to reach his family, and their honesty is uncertain as well.
Even J becomes an unreliable narrator, as it is impossible to detect with whom he is siding. As the film progresses and the family and police clash with increasing frequency, each group asks more from him. He switches between the two multiple times, keeping the ending very difficult to predict.
Michôd has crafted a terrific story in the film, and he executes it masterfully. While it employs a slow pace, with bursts of intensity sprinkled throughout, there is rarely a lull in the flow of the film.
And beyond the rare lapse in pacing, not much else is wrong as every performance is spot on, especially in the relationship between the understated J and the menacingly psychotic Pope (Ben Mendelsohn, Beautiful Kate).
Animal Kingdom is an unflinching and original look at a modern crime family and the problems that accompany such an existence. As J grows as a character, the audience can’t help but wonder what he would have become if he never moved in with his extended family.
But that’s the thing about family: It either helps you immensely, damages you forever or, sometimes, both.
Rating: 4.5 stars out of 5
klucas@umdbk.com
