Animale
by Hope Madden
For most of cinematic history, the werewolf has been the territory of men. The Wolf Man and all that. Not always, though. Feminist classic Ginger Snaps was among the first films to see the metaphorical possibilities of a monthly curse, and plenty of films since have tossed aside the idea that the furry shapeshifter has to be a dude.
With Animale, co-writer/director Emma Benestan throws out the idea that the shape for shifting has to be a wolf.
Nejma (Oulaya Amamra) is the lone woman working a bull ranch in Camargue, France and training to bullfight. Her first fight doesn’t go as well as she’d hoped, but still she’s invited to tag along with the others for a post-fight party out in the pasture.
Nothing is quite the same after. She wakes with little memory of the night, but a bad gash from a bull attack. As she feels herself undergo changes—nightmares, acute senses, physical changes—a rogue bull seems to be targeting the ranch workers, killing them night after night.
Benestan’s talented cast favors understated realism, which sometimes feels slightly out of step with the supernatural tale being spun. But each carves out an authentic individual. Vivien Rodriguez is especially impressive, finding layers where others may not have.
Amamra mines her character for vulnerability and confidence in ways that not only feel authentic but make the transformation more believable. When another bull is targeted as the killer, the performance takes on a passion that’s charged, disturbing, and right for the film.
The scene that kicks off Act 3 is as potent and disturbing as anything in recent horror cinema memory. It cements the film’s underlying metaphor with heartbreaking relevance. This is a film about acceptable cruelty, which makes it a difficult watch, although Benestan does what she can to transport you someplace quite amazing.
Investment in metaphor over monster mythology robs the final scene of some of its potential, but not a lot. Animale sees parallels you may not want to see, but once you’ve watched it, it can’t be unseen. There’s no question that’s a good thing.
