Sharks Bite, but it’s the Human Predator to be Wary of in Dangerous Animals
Surfer Zephyr (Hassie Harrison) is a loner who lives out of her van. The American ex-pat is in Australia running away from a past she refuses to talk about, and even when she allows herself to get close to someone — like the young, handsome, and selflessly kind Moses (Josh Heuston) — it’s only for a one-night stand (if that long).
When Zephyr wakes up handcuffed to a bed across from British tourist Heather (Ella Newton) below decks of a sportfishing boat captained by the psychotic Bruce Tucker (Jai Courtney), the young woman is going to wish she’d made a few lasting personal connections. Her abductor is a secretive serial killer who literally feeds his victims to the sharks, records the moment of death, and then watches how they futilely fight back against one of the natural world’s most terrifying, lethal, and diabolically beautiful predators later on at his leisure.
It’s been far too long since director Sean Byrne — a full decade, to be exact — has stepped behind the camera, and it’s great to have him back. While Dangerous Animals writer Nick Lepard has crafted an ingenious thriller premise where the sharks are treated with respect and it’s the human element that needs to be feared, Byrne’s emotionally eviscerating, character-driven imprint is still clearly felt. Even as his latest embraces its inherent silliness, there remains a visceral, anything-goes nastiness to the gruesome plight Zephyr is in, and that has the effect of augmenting the overall horror of the character’s situation considerably.
Not that this one is anywhere near as brilliantly bleak as the director’s previous efforts, 2015’s The Devil’s Candy and 2009’s The Loved Ones. Events get plenty dark, and Byrne is unflinching as ever in his depictions of violence. Blood is spilled, limbs are severed, and even those least deserving of meeting a grisly fate nonetheless still find themselves on a carnivore’s dinner menu. But there is an underlying conventionality, and even a moderate playfulness, to the proceedings that do soften some of its more crushingly nihilistic aspects. This causes a noticeable tonal imbalance that unfortunately can be distracting.
But thankfully never so much that my interest ever waned. This life-or-death struggle is a visceral nightmare and, because of that, I was wholly invested in discovering how Zephyr was going to bring the fight to Tucker. Their interactions, while not exactly reminiscent of Dr. Hannibal Lecter versus Clarice Starling, do crackle with a hardscrabble intensity that got under my skin. The line between hunter and prey frequently blurs, and I loved how hard Tucker pushed to try and prove to Zephyr that the two of them aren’t nearly as different in temperament as she vehemently proclaims.
Harrison, best known for her roles on the television series Yellowstone and Tacoma FD, gives a determinedly haunted performance as the abducted surfer. The character’s internalized wounds are readily apparent and do not need much in the way of extraneous expository embellishment to clarify why she is living such a nomadically secluded life. Yet Harrison’s eyes contain fiery multitudes, and Zephyr’s mounting resilience to do whatever it takes to survive grows in physically tortured magnitude the closer she gets to becoming chum for an underwater beast.
As for Courtney, this is as villainously titanic a portrait of abhorrently narcissistic venality as any I’ve witnessed in quite some time. While this is a suitably larger-than-life performance full of sadistically eccentric quirks, the actor refuses to take things over the top or transform Tucker into a mustache-twirling cartoon. Instead, Courtney plays him with an animalistic tenacity that’s bone-chilling. He’s an all-too-human (if still almost supernaturally muscular) behemoth, the actor bringing an authentically craven depravity to the role that caught me by surprise.
If some of the more crowd-pleasing aspects don’t entirely work, thanks to a combination of the film’s technical precision (composer Michael Yezerski, cinematographer Shelley Farthing-Dawe, and especially editor Kasra Rassoulzadegan all deserve top marks) and Harrison’s dynamism, I can’t say this bothered me. Byrne keeps the tension level high, and even as the climax grew increasingly convoluted, he never lost sight of narrative-driven subtleties that make even the most absurd plot twist feel believable. Dangerous Animals has sharp teeth. Even better, it knows how to use them.
Film Rating: 3 (out of 4)
