Animal Kingdom

Editorial

Securing the finest talent that this country has is no mean feat for any filmmaker, let alone one who's patiently waited nigh on a decade to make his debut feature. But such is the supreme quality of David Michod's breathtaking first-time outing, it's no surprise that his A-grade cast jumped at the opportunity.

Animal Kingdom essentially tracks one family's spiralling descent into drug-fuelled, crime-riddled chaos from the point of view of nephew Josh Cody (Frecheville) — known as "J" — who's been shielded from his violent uncles until his mother suddenly dies. To complicate matters, Josh not only tries in vain to remain on the sidelines of his family's life of crime, but also has a supposedly benevolent cop (Pearce) offering him salvation.

What appears to be a straightforward tale of a family in free fall is anything but. At no point can we be sure about what these characters are really after. Even Pearce's cool, calm, collected officer Leckie's agenda is clear as mud. Does he really intend to safeguard J's future, if he dobs in his uncles? Many questions are never answered, which only adds to the cloud of uncertainty that hangs over these people throughout the film.

Similarly, Smurf Cody (veteran Weaver) is impossible to pin down. She's as sweet as pie one minute, as equally chilling the next. As if this brilliantly murky world wasn't unsettling enough, there's that uniquely Australian sense of menace which permeates throughout. No-one is more than an inch away from sudden death. Sweat-inducing, nail-biting stuff and, incredibly, it's set against the seemingly banal backdrop of everyday, kitchen-sink-type drama

Animal Kingdom is, by a mile, the finest piece of cinema to come out of Australia — or any other country, for that matter — for a very long time indeed.

Ed Gibbs

Read our interviews with:

Ben Mendelsohn 

Sullivan Stapleton and James Frecheville