Werewolves on film have always been an intriguing prospect for viewers. The duality of man and beast has kept generations of audiences fascinated. For many years the werewolf movie purely explored the male experience, though the last couple of decades have seen a shift in focus. Ginger Snaps proved that the female experience was an equally good conduit for the monster. In recent years the bulk of werewolf stories to be released have had a feminine angle. The latest of these is Jacqueline Castel’s feature debut, My Animal.
Set in a nondescript snowy town that could be either Canada or America, during what appears to be the eighties, My Animal is focused on outcast Heather (Bobbi Salvör Menuez). Heather and her family live on the outskirts of town and primarily keep themselves to themselves. Kept out of the school system, Heather has always struggled to form connections with her peers, then one day, figure-skater Jonny (Amandla Stenberg) waltzes into the rink that Heather frequents. There is instant chemistry between the two, but eighties bigotry and Heather’s family secret stand in their way.
The plot of My Animal is kept loose and simple: a story of two women coming of age, learning to be comfortable in their own skin and with one another. The narrative points are kept light and formulaic; Heather has an overprotective family, Jonny an aggressive boyfriend. Outside of this there is little to see outside of these two female characters connecting with one another. A film which runs on ‘vibes’ more than anything else, My Animal is an indie movie through and through. Its chances of making it with the mainstream masses are slim, but the indie crowd will find something to appreciate.
With little narrative structure to hook the viewer, Castel relies on her technical elements to sell My Animal. The look of the film is gorgeous. Bryn McCashin’s cinematography is full of snowy vistas, dark night skies, and brooding glimpses of the moon. Alongside these are some wonderful red neons that seductively coat everything. Augustus Muller’s synth heavy score marries McCashin’s camerawork beautifully. The inclusion of Boy Harsher (who also provided music on last year’s Halloween Ends) on the soundtrack rounds off the audio / visual journey perfectly. Castel is not afraid to get weird with what she commits to the screen, which pushes the visual intrigue further still. One scene, which can only be described as an eggy sex dream that is simultaneously mesmerising (thanks to the score), and repulsive (due to the framing), is particularly hard to shift.
The standout sequence of My Animal though involves Jonny and Heather in an intimate setting that is stunningly lit in red. There is a deep sensuality to the scene, one that rises above base-level titillation. Castel masks their nude bodies, the focus on the soft lighting and movements. Edits blur into each other and the music floods through, drowning the ears with sumptuous synth notes. The scene is so evocative and enticing that it leaves the viewer awestruck to the point where it’s almost sad when it ends.
The werewolf elements are kept implicit rather than explicit. It is quickly clear what fate Heather and her family live through via a wave of chatter about the size of the moon in relation to Heather being unable to leave the house. My Animal is more focussed on the burgeoning relationship and sexual awakening between the two women than its werewolf moments. They do eventually come into play, but My Animal is much more a thriller first, werewolf story second. This direction is one that will disappoint some, but Castel’s decision is what is best for My Animal both in terms of story and budget. A sapphic story of lycanthropy, identity, and young love, My Animal is a feast for the eyes and ears, and bittersweet food for the soul.
My Animal
Summary
An eighties aesthetic, pulsating synth score, and sapphic lycanthropy love story set in a backwater town make My Animal an enticing proposition.
My Animal was reviewed at Sundance Film Festival 2023.
