Cast Away (2000)
★★★ / ★★★★
Chuck Noland (Tom Hanks) was very dedicated to his job. As a FedEx engineer, time was very important to him. In fact, we met him while delivering a speech to his workers in Russia. Everything had to be carefully planned because he was on high demand. Even his pager was busy during Christmas, a short amount of time that was supposed to be reserved for his girlfriend, Kelly Frears (Helen Hunt), and her family. But when Chuck’s plane plunged into the ocean, he not only learned what it meant to survive sans technology in an undiscovered island, but how it was like to be enslaved by time, the uncontrollable element that he thought he had control over. “Cast Away,” directed by Robert Zemeckis, was a meditative film because the majority of its running time was dedicated to Chuck attempting to adapt to his new environment. His situation was scary, but there was something amusing with the way he sloppily tried to catch fish, broke coconuts by bashing them against a rock, and foolishly made his way toward a light source with nothing but a paddle and a yellow floatie. Admittedly, by watching him struggle, I had a laugh to myself because I knew I probably wouldn’t survive in an uninhabited island even for a week, let alone four years. What made the film’s core fascinating was Hanks’ layered performance. My favorite scene wasn’t Chuck having conversations with Wilson, his volleyball companion, or the moment he successfully made fire. It was when he learned how to obtain water using a leaf. During that shot, the camera was focused on the plant. But Hanks’ expression was priceless. There was utter joy drawn all over his face, not just in his smile, but down to the wrinkles on his forehead and the excitement contained in his body language. It was like watching a child figuring out how a specific tool worked for the first time. The decision to jump four years into the future was risky but necessary. It was necessary because the subsequent scenes provided a stark contrast between how he was like a few days upon his arrival on the island and how he became an effective hunter, someone who used his hands, not solely his commanding voice and busy pager, to survive. It was risky because Hanks had to look different. I loved that the filmmakers didn’t rely on just Hanks’ hair to convince us that there was a significant passing of time. In the beginning, Chuck looked a bit pudgy. His obvious weight loss after the “Four Years Later” message was surprising. Written by William Broyles Jr., “Cast Away” was not just a story of a man who was stuck in an island. It was moving because of the lessons he learned involving how to live a more meaningful life. Jobs, even careers, come and go. Being laid off or getting fired, we learn to get over such things. But the feeling of losing the people we love is an entirely different matter. The pain, though we learn of ways to hide them, is deeper and permanent.
★★★★ / ★★★★
Brock Lovett (Bill Paxton) and his crew of treasure hunters found a safe under the wreckage of RMS Titanic, the supposedly unsinkable ship that perished, along with about 1,500 people, on April 15, 1912 while on its way to America. They expected the safe contain a diamond known as the Heart of the Ocean, but what they found instead was a drawing of a topless woman wearing the jewel of interest. Rose (Gloria Stuart) saw the drawing on television and called Lovett to inquire about the artifacts. Rose, as it turned out, was one of the survivors of the doomed voyage. Written and directed by James Cameron, “Titanic” was a great achievement because it was able to transport its audience to a time that was and allowed us to experience what could have happened on that ship as the ocean slowly, then quickly, swallowed it whole. One of the most engaging scenes, perhaps only about minute long, was when one of Lovett’s crew explained the physics in terms of how, after hitting an iceberg, the iron giant began to sink and why it broke the way it did. By giving us a picture using images on a computer, we had an idea of what to expect. Yet when it actually started to happen, the suspense and thrill reached an apogee and wouldn’t let go. The manner in which the picture switched from silence, to musicians playing joyful music in order to distract the passengers from reaching total panic, to the angelic hymns of the score made the images of people falling and jumping off the ship, out of fear and desperation, haunting and exhausting. It’s difficult to forget, once the ship was completely submerged, the sounds of people crying, screaming, splashing, and begging the lifeboats, most having plenty of space, to come back turn into complete silence. Cut to sea of corpses floating on freezing water. The heart of the picture was the romance between Jack Dawson (Leonardo DiCaprio) and Rose Bukater (Kate Winslet). Jack won his tickets to Titanic on a last-minute poker game. Along with a friend (Danny Nucci), the two were ecstatic for the epic journey. Rose, on the other hand, was incredibly unhappy because she was to marry Cal (Billy Zane), a pompous, boring, and self-important son of a steel tycoon. While most people tend to blame the romance for being the picture’s Achilles’ heel, I thought DiCaprio and Winslet had a winsome chemistry, benefiting from classic stories of a young man and woman torn by a demarcation of class and disapproving authorities. The dinner scene when Jack was invited to sit with Rose’s rich and snobbish company was a turning point for the two lovers. Despite pointed comments by Rose’s fiancé and mother (Frances Fisher), Jack proved that was comfortable with who he was and what he could offer. Rose looked at him like he was the richest and most desirable man in the room, the way we perhaps tend to do when we’re convinced that a person is exactly right for us. The script needed less cornball lines but they weren’t egregious enough to distract from the collective experience. “Titanic” was very extravagant. From Rose’s stylish clothes to the intricate designs of the ships’ doors and spacious private rooms, one could argue that the lavishness was necessary, even required, in order to highlight the horrors of destruction and lives being taken.
Batoru rowaiaru (2000)
★★★ / ★★★★
Japan’s economy had collapsed which thrusted everyone’s lives into uncertainty. Since unemployment rate was at its worst, no one was happy. Some adults even killed themselves and left their children to fend for themselves. Students ceased to attend school which contributed to more violence in the streets. As a solution, the government introduced the Millennium Education Reform Act, also known as Battle Royale (BR) Act, where a high school class was to be randomly selected, kidnapped, and taken to a remote island. Their assignment was kill each other with various weapons. As a reward, the last person standing would be allowed to go home. The high concept of “Batoru rowaiaru,” based on a novel by Koushun Takami, worked best when its biting satire was front and center. The strongest scenes were found in the beginning as the students were forced by their former seventh grade teacher, Kitano (Takeshi Kitano), to watch an instructional video on how to survive in the island. The enthusiasm of the girl on the screen was similar to those late-night infomercials aimed to brainwash that what was being advertised had to be bought. But instead of an object being seen as a valuable commodity that had to be owned, the video convinced the students that the lives around them were commodities that just had to be taken. I wished that the screenplay by Kenta Fukasaku maintained that darkness instead of focusing on the romantic feelings between Shuya (Tatsuya Fujiwara) and Noriko (Aki Maeda). While their superficial interactions provided some heart to the story, they weren’t interesting enough compared to Mitsuko (Kô Shibasaki), a surprisingly ruthless girl who actually thrived on hunting for blood, Chigusa (Chiaki Kuriyama), the long-distance runner who stuck to her rituals despite the unfolding chaos, and Sugimura (Sôsuke Takaoka), desperate to find a specific girl to confess to her his true feelings before it was too late. As Shuya and Noriko unnecessarily promised each other multiple times that they were going to protect each other and find a way out, I found myself hoping that someone would sneak up behind them and put them out of their–and our–misery. Over time, though still watchable because the violence remained shocking and amusing, the film became more predictable. Since most of the scenes were tilted toward one or two groups of survivors, allowing us to warm up to them if they were “good” or getting us riled up if they were “bad,” we knew that they eventually had to face one another. The material failed to offer something special, perhaps a deep exploration of the hungry and vigilant animal in all of us when our lives were at a precipice, in order to overcome the plot’s necessary contrivances. “Battle Royale,” directed by Kinji Fukasaku, was at its best when it forced our eyes not to blink as the teens sliced, shot at, and pounded each other’s flesh like cavemen attempting to put down a lesser animal. At its worst, however, deep insight was set aside for lines like, “I’ve been in love with you for so long.” I sensed William Golding rolling in his grave.
Grey, The (2011)
★★★ / ★★★★
Ottway (Liam Neeson) was considering to commit suicide the night before he and a group of oil rig workers were scheduled to take a flight to visit home, but he decided against it after hearing a wolf howl from a distance. When their plane crashed in Alaska, miles from the nearest town or city, Ottway and seven survivors (Frank Grillo, Dallas Roberts, Dermot Mulroney, Joe Anderson, Nonso Anozie, James Badge Dale, and Ben Bray) were systematically hunted and killed by ravenous wolves. As the men dwindled in number, Ottway’s insistence to live became clearer. Conversely, the possibility of Ottway finding refuge turned dimmer. Written by Ian Mackenzie Jeffers and Joe Carnahan, “The Grey” was a cut above us being reduced to passively watching men trying to survive against the cruelty of nature. It forced us to consider difficult questions by immersing us in images that ranged from the grizzly wolf attacks to the chilly landscapes of barren hope. Even though it was difficult to remember the men’s names, the majority of them serving as fodder for the canines, more was revealed about them in the second half of the picture. So when a character, for instance, decided that others should leave him behind because his will to live reached the bottom of the barrel, we felt bad for the character yet we understood where he was coming from. There was no melodrama. The aforementioned scene was especially well-executed. There was no music that served to signal that we should feel a certain way. There was only silence and peace, an acquisition of mental freedom through the act of surrendering. I found beauty in its attitude about death, how it shouldn’t be feared as long as it’s our choice. Notice the contrast between a sweet surrender and a wolf suddenly jumping from behind while the men kept warm around a fire. The title went beyond the color of the wolves that growled from a distance. The adventure was ultimately convincing because the film was essentially about the grey area of life and death. By watching the men march for a seemingly interminable distance, the picture dared us to question how far we think we would be willing to go if we were forced to be in their place. The men were supposed to be “tough” because they were hardened by their time and experiences in prison. Despite their histories and intrepid comportments, we could relate to them because the screenplay gave them a chance to open up and reveal reasons why they wanted to survive. Like them, the majority of us value our families most: we fight for them, to be with them, even if it meant making the ultimate sacrifice. That’s what separates us from other animals like the wolves in the film. They may be able to remember a person who harmed them in some way but they are incapable of loyalty or being connected to their conscience. “The Grey,” directed by Joe Carnahan, also benefited from Neeson’s versatile performance. He was able to keep an interesting balance between being animalistic and humanistic, a requisite for a movie driven by implications about our place in nature. But it wasn’t without a sense of humor. I wondered at some point if barbecued wolf meat was a delicacy somewhere out there.
Thing, The (1982)
★★★ / ★★★★
In the icy landscape of Antarctica, a Siberian Husky attempted to outrun a helicopter because one of the people inside was shooting at it. When the dog arrived in an American research facility, the helicopter landed and came out a man speaking Norwegian. Nobody understood the dialect. He started shooting; Americans shot back. Everyone was baffled with how quickly everything happened and without an apparent reason. When the researchers took the dog to be with its own kind, in the dark, it revealed its true nature: inside it was an alien organism. Based on the story “Who Goes There?” by John W. Campbell Jr. and written by Bill Lancaster, “The Thing” deservingly gained a strong cult following over the years. It took its time in showing us the alien’s abilities and how it was able to survive for so long. It was dangerous because it seemed to have both intelligence and great survival instincts. It was capable of copying an animal in exact detail but in order to do so, it had to absorb its victims’ cells. Although the picture didn’t quite delve into specifics, it made sense because cells house DNA. Humans in a contained area were right for the picking. R.J. MacReady (Kurt Russell) was the helicopter pilot and the eventual leader of the group. Along with Dr. Copper (Richard Dysart), they had to figure out a way to find which of their colleagues were imitations. One of the best scenes involved MacReady and Dr. Cooper visiting the nearby Norwegian facility and finding the place in utter ruins. They saw deformed and charred human bodies as well as a hunk of ice which, from the looks of it, formerly preserved something. The grotesque and mysterious images allowed us to construct a narrative in our minds about what possibly happened. The film successfully captured a paranoid atmosphere. For instance, the camera’s attention shifted from one person to another. Characters were often in different rooms because they had jobs to do, some were on shifts depending on time of day, while others kept to themselves because certain personalities clashed. What happened to Person A when the camera was on Person B? Another element that added to the paranoia was its calculated use of score. It was able to generate so much tension by simply allowing us to hear heartbeat-like notes during key scenes. And it wasn’t only implemented when a person would walk into a dark room in an attempt to investigate something. It was used in broad daylight when danger was right around the corner. Unfortunately, I had serious issues with the film’s pacing, notably with its final thirty minutes. While it managed to maintain a certain level of creativity in terms of the build-up of who was possibly infected, once we knew, the point-and-shoot-the-flamethrower tactic became repetitive. There was nothing inspiring or surprising during the last fifteen minutes. Despite its shortcomings, I couldn’t keep my eyes off the screen. The special, visual effects, and make-up teams should be applauded for creating images found in nightmares. Directed by John Carpenter, “The Thing” is one of the few movies I feel I must watch every year. I’m hypnotized by it each time.
★★★★ / ★★★★
Donna (Dee Wallace), along with her son (Danny Pintauro), drove the barely functional family car to be fixed, but the mechanic (Ed Lauter) and his family weren’t around. The only thing waiting for them was a rabid St. Bernard that attacked when a loud noise was present. Stuck in the car for a couple of days, Donna had to go to great measures to prevent her son from death due to a lack of food and water. Based on the novel by Stephen King, “Cujo” was particularly impressive because the story was rooted in drama. The Trenton household was on the verge of collapse because Donna informed her husband (Daniel Hugh Kelly) that she had been having an affair with one of their friends (Christopher Stone). On top of that, their comfortable way of life was threatened when the husband’s business was marred by bad publicity. The strain in their marriage, though much of it was undiscussed, affected the child in such a way that Tad was convinced there was a monster, equipped with a long snout and yellow eyes, in his closet. The horror aspect was quite clever. Aside from the first scene which involved the child preparing himself to turn off the light, race across the room, and land on his bed, which I often did as a child because I loved to watch scary movies, the horror elements were temporarily pushed to the side. From the moment Cujo attacked the mother and son, we realized that the dog symbolized the invisible monster in the room whenever the husband and wife shared the same space. They could barely look at each other, let alone carry a meaningful conversation. After the dog’s initial attack, I was floored when the child screamed and hysterically asked his mother how the monster got out of his closet. The connection between the child’s fantasy and the reality of a potentially broken marriage took the form of a beast so ferocious, we ultimately didn’t care about Donna’s transgressions. At least I didn’t. It became a matter of survival of an unhappy woman and her innocent son. The scenes inside the car were very involving. Under the sweltering sun, I felt like I was in there with them as they sweat and suffered the shortage of basic necessities. When Tad eventually had trouble breathing, Wallace’s performance was front and center. Her desperation, and eventual determination to save her son, swept me away. I wanted to help her. It made me consider what I would have done for my child if I was placed in a similar situation. “Cujo,” directed by Lewis Teague, was efficient, smart, and thrilling. I admired it most for its details and how the meanings we placed in them pulsated with rabid energy.
Evil Dead, The (1981)
★★ / ★★★★
Five friends (Bruce Campbell, Betsy Baker, Richard DeManincor, Ellen Sandweiss, Theresa Tilly) decided to drive up to a cabin in the mountains for some fun and relaxation. But when they played a recording of a man claiming that his wife had been possessed by evil and continued to listen until the man read an incantation off the Book of the Dead, spirits in the forest woke up from their slumber. Written and directed by Sam Raimi, “The Evil Dead” was only successful in tiny little pieces. I didn’t think it was effective as a whole because its straight-faced horror approach paled in comparison to the accidental comedy. I understood that the picture had a low budget and inexperienced actors. The script was hilariously one-dimensional. Those elements were not the problem. In fact, those were the reasons why I kept watching. Despite its setbacks, I loved Raimi’s unwavering confidence in delivering a movie that was close or, quite possibly, matched his vision. He wasn’t afraid to move the camera even though it looked silly. Sometimes the aggressive camera movements worked especially when something would pop out of a dark corner (or cellar). In its goriest form, I couldn’t help but wear a smile on my face because it was so obvious that the flesh being torn apart was a prop. The blood looked very fake and the voices of the demons sounded like women with a very bad case of the flu and attempting to sound like a burly men. The claymation was inspired and I wondered, when the zombies met their doom, what the solid green substance was supposed to be. I’m familiar with the human body and I still don’t know what it was. While it was enjoyable to watch, I found the material repetitive. Ash (Campbell), our protagonist, spent too much time confronting and dismembering his possessed friends. They just wouldn’t die. By the third time a friend turned back to life, it was still somewhat amusing. But by the fifth time, the joke had outgrown its welcome. The problem was we didn’t know anything about the forest. Why were the spirits so angry? Why did the so-called Book of the Dead end up in the cabin in the middle of nowhere? What happened to the man and his wife in the recording? There were too many unanswered questions. If the director had taken off a scene or two of Ash trying to get his head around the fact that his friends were dead and provided some background information about the horrific happenings, “The Evil Dead” would have felt more balanced. Campbell was wonderful as Ash. His facial expressions when looking at something horrific were absolutely priceless, but I felt a smidgen of sensitivity during his more quiet moments. Maybe being green is not so bad.
Vanishing on 7th Street (2010)
★ / ★★★★
Paul (John Leguizamo), a movie theater employee with a big brain, found himself alone in the cinema after the lights mysteriously went out. The busy buzzing of movie-goers instantly turned to silence. As he explored the building, clothes were everywhere but there seemed to be no sign of people who were there just a split-second ago. It seemed too elaborate to be a prank. Rosemary (Thandie Newton), a mother with a missing baby, James (Jacob Latimore), desperate to find his mother, and Luke (Hayden Christensen), a news reporter, experienced a similar event. Written by Anthonu Jaswinski and directed by Brad Anderson, “Vanishing on 7th Street” started off with a chilling premise but the execution lacked energy because there wasn’t enough information about the weird events to get us to look beyond the images presented on screen. We, as well as the characters, learned that the shadow-like figures were afraid of the light. If touched by the creatures, they would vanish out of thin air. When the four characters got together in a bar owned by James’ mother, instead of finding creative ways to survive, they became laughably philosophical. They thought maybe they were in hell and being caught by the shadows was a way to get into heaven. Maybe there was some kind of an insidious biological warfare. Someone even brought up that maybe there was an alien invasion. Regardless of the reason, what made them so special (or not special) that they were left behind? Far too much time was dedicated on asking questions than seeking answers. With a running time of only ninety minutes, they couldn’t afford to stand around and wait for a light bulb to go off in their heads. Another issue I had with the picture was it took itself too seriously. The tone never changed. The formula involving someone’s light suddenly going off so conveniently just when he or she entered a pitch black room became predictable. It would have been more interesting if the film had found a way to laugh at itself to release some of the stagnant tension. For instance, when I saw clothes of random people just lying in the middle of the road and continued as far as the eyes could see, I laughed to myself. It was creepy but it was also somewhat amusing. As it went on, I was convinced “Vanishing on 7th Street” would have worked better as a short film. It just didn’t offer enough information. Where did the shadow figures come from? Where did everyone disappeared to? Why was the time of day growing shorter at such a rapid rate? We just didn’t know. There’s a mystery in not knowing certain things if and only if the material is already rich. That wasn’t the case here. Not giving away any answer to some of the biggest questions is, in my opinion, cheating the audiences.
Eden Lake (2008)
★★★ / ★★★★
Written and directed by James Watkins, Steven (Michael Fassbender) and Jenny (Kelly Reilly) decided to retreat to the country for a weekend of relaxation. Steven chose the place because his last visit gave him fond memories of stunning landscape and invaluable peace. But nothing was like as he remembered it. There were now gates that surrounded the area to keep people away and sociopathic teenagers scoured the vicinity. When the hoodlums, led by Brett (Jack O’Connell), stole the couple’s car, a prank turned toward a deadly route. “Eden Lake” drained every bit of energy I had because I was so desperate for the couple to escape and find their way home. Although the picture was realistic in terms of its violence, it did not glorify it. We were meant to be sickened by the teenagers’ increasingly bad decisions and maddened by the fact that none of them voiced out that what they were doing was immoral. When some of them decided to stand up to Brett, they quivered and their resistance didn’t last for long. Although a one-dimensional character, O’Connell did a wonderful job in portraying a very troubled individual. Rash and incredibly ruthless, we rooted for the moments where he made mistakes and wished that one of his errors would lead to his downfall. We didn’t need to know his life at home or if he was bulled in the past. What mattered was the decisions he made that changed the lives of those around him. It was compelling because not only was the kids’ and the couple’s situation scary, it was also very sad. Jenny, a nursery school teacher, was essentially put into a situation where she had to reevaluate her connection with the young. We left to wonder what we would do if we were in the same situation. Personally, if someone is trying to kill me, good luck to them because gender and age become irrelevant. However, there were some pieces that bothered me. For instance, when Steven, prior to being captured, told Jenny to ask for help: What did she decide to do? She hid in the bushes, slept it off, and didn’t even look for help until morning arrived. In a life or death situation, I am convinced that no one will be able to sleep. It may be dark and the person may be tired but if I was in her shoes, I would have ran until I saw civilization. Even then I wouldn’t trust the people who decided to help because the kids had to live somewhere nearby. Despite the material’s occasional lack of common sense, I enjoyed it because it was successful in generating tension and holding onto it until the payoff. “Eden Lake” knew the difference between suspense and thrill. It was suspenseful when we were left squirming in our seats and wondering if our protagonists were going to get caught. It was thrilling when Character A was running from Character B and the latter knew exactly which direction the former was heading. The best scenes were the ones where I felt chill running up and down my spine.
★★ / ★★★★
Lake Victoria was the place where college students gathered to spend their Spring Break. But when an earthquake caused a rift on the lake floor, a subterranean lake was revealed which happened to house the original piranhas once thought to be extinct, it was up to Sheriff Julie Forester (Elisabeth Shue), Deputy Fallon (Ving Rhames), and a seismologist (Adam Scott) to warn the party-goers to get out of the water before they became fish food. Alexandre Aja’s “Piranha,” an out and proud B-movie, is difficult not enjoy because it embraced bad horror movie elements with open arms while paying genuine homage to movies like Steven Spielberg’s “Jaws” and Joe Dante’s original “Piranha.” I was particularly impressed with the film’s climax involving a school of piranhas attacking hundreds of barely clothed college students. When panic finally set in, I enjoyed that human error (or desperation) was taken into account. Like the piranhas that ate each other for millions of years to ensure the survival of the species, if a person was desperate enough to live, he wouldn’t think twice of putting someone else in harm’s way. It’s instinctual. The film’s self-awareness worked to its advantage; it knew it wanted to attract mostly heterosexual males so it delivered big breasts and long legs. It even had an extended scene of naked women making out underwater. As I watched with incredulity, I couldn’t help but laugh at what I was seeing. It was like watching two seals making love on Discovery Channel. More amusing was the fact that all the guys were far from attractive. Just when I thought it had no more surprises under its sleeve, a male organ was bitten off. Moreover, its over-the-top nature was enjoyable due to its exaggeration of how college kids spend their Spring Break. (When probably only about 5% celebrated this way.) Enter Jake (Steven R. McQueen), the sheriff’s son, who was somewhat of a social outcast because he listened to music like The Ramones and The Pixies. According to the movie’s logic, people who listen to that type of music were just not cool. But Jake wanted to belong. He wanted to party at the lake, drink alcohol, and maybe even win over a girl (Jessica Szohr) he was obviously attracted to. Instead, he was stuck babysitting his younger brother and sister. Perhaps the lesson Jake learned at the end of the day was underage drinking led to death. At least there’s some truth in that. “Piranha” had some suspenseful moments but I wish the writers, Pete Goldfinger and Josh Stolberg, had spent less time making fun of college culture and more time on the science behind the piranhas’ survival mechanisms. And was it too much to ask to have at least one smart and resourceful teenager? Jake had potential but he didn’t primarily think with his brain.
Animal Kingdom (2010)
★★★ / ★★★★
J (James Frecheville) passively watched his mother die from heroin overdose. He didn’t know what to pay attention to: the program being broadcast on television or his mother’s last attempts for air. Still under eighteen years old, he felt like he had no choice but to contact his grandmother Janine (Jackie Weaver) because he didn’t know what to with his mother’s corpse. J was reluctant to seek help because his mother did not want anything to do with her siblings (Ben Mendelsohn, Sullivan Stapleton, Luke Ford) because she knew of their criminal activities. “Animal Kingdom” was an involving thriller because we were asked to empathize with a minor who had no idea what he was getting himself into. A family is supposed to be a group of people that we can go to and seek comfort but his family is not like our families. They sold drugs for a living and whoever got in the way had to die. Holding a gun to someone’s head was as familiar as offering a helping hand. J living in the Cody household was an uncomfortable experience at best. His uncles had an almost incestuous relationship with their mother. When J’s girlfriend was over, one of the uncles eyed her up and down like a vulture, waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike. J acknowledged that fear was always in the air but he didn’t know what everyone was afraid of. Were they afraid to get caught by the police? Were they afraid of each other? Perhaps it was both. There was no room for laughter or a harmless joke because the uncles had such volatile personalities. The audiences were like a person tied to a chair and we just waited for them to explode. As the innocent and the guilty dropped like flies, sometimes for no good reason, desperation challenged the characters to reevaluate their loyalties. Enter Detective Leckie (Guy Pearce), a cop who saw J as an innocent. He believed J could be saved by putting his family behind bars. Leckie convinced J that he could offer protection but the promise didn’t last for long. Someone had deep connections in the force. Written and directed by David Michôd, “Animal Kingdom” was an Australian thriller of the highest caliber because it was able to draw us in and play with our expectations. Just like animals, especially those that lived in the deepest oceans, the harmless-looking characters ended up the most venomous. Stripped of gangster glamour and incendiary Tarantino-esque dialogue, Michôd made an argument that when crime is added in the equation, like animals in the jungle, people will do absolutely anything to survive. Is there crime in that?