My Animal, 2023.
Directed by Jacqueline Castel.
Starring Bobbi Salvör Menuez, Amandla Stenberg, Heidi von Palleske, Stephen McHattie, Cory Lipman, Joe Apollonio, Dean McDermott, Scott Thompson, Gabriel Campoverde, Charles F. Halpenny, Matt Lishman, Rizzo Jeppesen, Harrison W. Halpenny, and Bill MacDonald.
SYNOPSIS:
Heather, an outcast teenage goalie, falls for newcomer Jonny, an alluring but tormented figure skater. As their relationship deepens, Heather’s growing desires clash with her darkest secret, forcing her to control the animal within.
This piece was written during the 2023 WGA and SAG-AFTRA strike. Without the labor of the writers and actors currently on strike, My Animal wouldn’t exist.
Even with a queer coming-of-age romance at the center, the metaphors at play in Jacqueline Castel’s feature-length directorial debut My Animal doesn’t feel refreshing, arguably rendered less effective considering the lack of subtlety on display. Such shortcomings are made up for through riveting performances from leads Bobbi Salvör Menuez and Amandla Stenberg, completely inhabiting their characters and their respective struggles. The latter has regularly popped up in smaller movies, turning in absorbing work (The Hate U Give instantly comes to mind), but the former is a full-on revelation. In the same frame, they elevate familiar material into engaging character work.
Heather (Bobbi Salvör Menuez) is a newly turned adult navigating a lonely, unfulfilling life brought on by several reasons, chief among them being a hereditary curse causing her to turn into a werewolf at night, meaning that she must chain herself up in bed before midnight to prevent an uncontrollable disaster. She also happens to be bullied by her peers, wishing to join an all-boys hockey team in the remote snowy town she is from. Unsurprisingly, sexism comes into play even though Heather regularly pushes her body to the limit, working out and possessing the natural skill to be a goalie regardless of gender.
There is also reason to believe that this rural town, including family members, might not accept Heather’s sexuality should she come out (an early scene sees her masturbating to women’s professional wrestling). However, a chance meeting with figure skater Jonny (Amandla Stenberg), overworked and mistreated by her father and mentally abused by her controlling boyfriend, sparks an attraction. That gravitational pull toward Jonny is further fueled when she suggests Heather cut her hair, presumably to embrace not just a more stereotypical lesbian look but also her sexuality and identity.
Heather also begins disobeying well-meaning advice from her mild-mannered and reasonable father (Stephen McHattie), with her mother (Heidi von Palleske) more stern and verbally aggressive, insisting that something terrible will happen if she continues to stay out late, returning home in the nick of time, and testing the limits of that routine. Dad is more accepting of their condition, often offering sage-like wisdom (sweet and moving scenes), whereas Mom seems to resent it, and understandably so, considering she is clawed and bruised during an opening sequence showing what happens when Heather doesn’t restrain herself before shape-shifting into a werewolf.
Once the true nature of her friendship with Jonny is out in the open, that hatred from her mom and younger brothers stands in as a metaphor for bigotry. That much is obvious. The trajectory of the relationship between Heather and Jonny is also formulaic to a fault and fails to do anything truly bold or provocative with its love story, but it is difficult to deny the grounded, humanistic screenplay from Jae Matthews) and, once again, how lived-in and genuine the performances are conveyed. Rather than fixate on what can or can’t be done with the werewolf transformation aspect, the filmmakers wisely focus on the relatable teenage drama.
There is also some worthwhile directorial flair, usually coming from atmospheric mood lighting during intimate moments, accompanied by a swirling camera mimicking what must be going through the confused minds of these characters. The presence of hockey also adds a layer of uniqueness that fits into this small town and an opportunity to explore gender dynamics alongside the usual werewolf/sexuality metaphors. My Animal doesn’t necessarily present anything new with them, but the execution of tried-and-true darkly beautiful storytelling and themes are impressively crafted here, brought to life with intoxicating star-making performances.
Flickering Myth Rating – Film: ★ ★ ★ / Movie: ★ ★ ★
Robert Kojder is a member of the Chicago Film Critics Association and the Critics Choice Association. He is also the Flickering Myth Reviews Editor. Check here for new reviews, follow my Twitter or Letterboxd, or email me at MetalGearSolid719@gmail.com
