What drew me most in the trailer for We the Animals was the cinematography. The graceful hypnotism of the shots, the documentary-like way they were composed, and the editing of them in that trailer had me from the first time I saw it. It didn’t say much about the movie, but was incredibly compelling based on little more than its use of striking imagery and strong visual conjunction. And it was the perfect advertisement for a movie that tells its character journey mostly through visual means.
Based on the novel by Justin Torres, We the Animals is the feature directorial debut of Jeremiah Zagar. It tells the story of a poor Latin-American family from the point of view of the youngest of three close-knit brothers; and how he comes to view the world and himself in relation to his family as he grows and their fortunes fluctuate.
We the Animals is the latest exercise in what I’m just going to call American Neorealism; movies in that Italian tradition of capturing real life by employing mostly non-actors in stories about the poor and disenfranchised. It’s been done before in movies like Beasts of the Southern Wild and most recently, The Florida Project, but here it seems particularly apparent. Like those films, the family at the centre of this story is financially insecure, at one point petty thievery being required to keep them fed. And bitter truths and traumas are discovered through the hardship. That said, the movie’s not one hundred per cent a stickler to real life. There are times it breaks with truth and takes us into the mind of our movie’s protagonist Jonah, more introverted and reserved than his brothers.
The movie is told from his point-of-view and it’s in this presentation that We the Animals is most brilliant. It puts the audience in the position of subjective observer with Jonah, never showing us anything beyond his comprehension. Thus for instance, we don’t get the story for why Pa (Raúl Costello) disappears for a period and then comes back –though there is heavy inference of domestic violence and certainly verbal abuse. All of it flows in a kind of stream of consciousness; memories and fantasies intermingling with life and relationships. You hardly notice the gradual phasing out of voiceover and the movie becomes quite quiet. Jonah is a fairly quiet kid, and finds solitude, enlightenment, and expression primarily through drawings in his journal -often harsh, virulent, crude sketches reflecting his feelings. This is a movie entirely driven by feeling and emotion rather than a conventional narrative compass; and it’s remarkable how well and how deeply Zagar draws from a childs’ psyche, especially in the darker thoughts and impulses.
Evan Rosado is superb as the subtle Jonah. Child actors really seem to be getting a lot better these days and he’s no exception, brining a surprising degree of nuance to this inquisitive, self-conscious, and troubled protagonist. His relationship with his brothers is essential, and both Isaiah Kristian and Josiah Gabriel are great as Manny and Joel respectively. They could almost be triplets given their closeness in age and how united they are through large parts of the movie. As is often the case with these kinds of movies, they’re directed very naturally and act out like real kids their age. The only experienced actors are Sheila Vand and Raúl Costello as the parents, and both are excellent. Though we never encounter the adults on their own terms, Ma’s vulnerability, weariness, and desperation is unmistakable, impeccably conveyed and feels too real at times. And though Pa is clearly a toxic person who mistreats his wife, the movie depicts him as a wounded figure too with his own strife. There’s some kind of emotional connection between them despite it all, demonstrated in how neither can leave the other. Disillusionment with parental figures is also a theme. The boys idolize their father at first, only for his irresponsible actions to drastically change their perception of him as someone to emanate -in the case of Jonah, permanently. Take one scene for example, shortly after his return, where the parents are fooling around with the kids. Ending up in the living room with Pa on the floor and the boys playfully drumming on his back, it doesn’t take long for one to start hitting him and the others to join in -letting loose the rage for abandoning them and acting so cavalier since coming back.
It’s hard to believe this story was a book given how succinctly visual it is, not reliant on dialogue, exposition, or even narration. The aforementioned scene is marvellously shot and it’s just one of several. There’s a beautiful sequence for instance, of the boys just riding in the back of Pa’s truck on a starry night, with the camera at a low angle to better highlight the stars and streetlights. There are a number of scenes like this that are just about a moment of inspiration, contemplation, or whimsy. And the camera never rises above the children, which is a nice touch. Zak Mulligan’s cinematography on this film needs to be recognized. The animation on Jonah’s drawings, the window into his imagination, is just as chaotic as the drawings themselves, and elsewhere the movie uses wonderful expressive visual metaphor to articulate his feelings.
I’m really impressed by the ending too. It’s unusual in a manner akin to First Reformed, but less ambiguous, and just as nicely shot. And like The Florida Project it concludes in a state of flux that feels right despite its’ extremity. This is all without touching on the more important themes of We the Animals that come about as the movie unravels. While it does this it presents a searingly poetic and mesmerizing, albeit harsh and realistic perspective of one childs’ turbulent coming-of-age.
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