Animal (2023): A Blood-Soaked Opera of Vengeance, Where Morality Gets Tangoed by Bullets
Sandeep Reddy Vanga's Animal isn't a movie, it's a three-hour adrenaline enema disguised as a gangster epic. It's a hyper-stylized ballet of vengeance, where violence pirouettes with operatic flair and morality gets tangoed by bullets under neon spotlights. Calling it entertaining is like saying the Grand Canyon is "a neat ditch;" it's an experience that pummels your senses, leaving you gasping for air and debating whether to call an ambulance or book a front-row seat for the encore.
Ranbir Kapoor sheds his boyish charm like a cobra molting its skin to embody Jung Bahadur Singh, a man whose love for his gangster father curdles into molten rage after a betrayal that would make Shakespeare jealous. Kapoor is a revelation, his eyes smoldering with manic intensity, every move a predator calculating its next pounce. This isn't your typical hero's journey; Jung is an anti-hero dipped in acid, his righteousness as twisted as a pretzel dipped in cyanide.
Vanga, who also wrote the story, crafts a narrative that's as labyrinthine as a Mobius strip lined with razor blades. Timelines fold and unfold like origami in a hurricane, past and present tangoing on a dance floor slick with betrayal. The story itself isn't exactly groundbreaking - family, betrayal, revenge, the usual mafia bingo - but it's the execution that makes Animal a disco ball in hell. Vanga paints his canvas with a lurid palette of violence, each action sequence a blood-soaked ballet choreographed by Tarantino on his angriest day. Bullets pirouette in slow-motion, arterial spray paints the screen in crimson, and every bone crack resonates with a sickening satisfaction that's oddly poetic.
Yet, amidst the operatic carnage, Vanga throws in unexpected grace notes of tenderness. Jung's relationship with his mother (Rashmika Mandanna) is a heartbreaking counterpoint to his descent into darkness. Her quiet strength and unwavering love offer a glimpse of the man Jung might have been, had fate not dealt him a hand with more aces than a Vegas backroom. These moments, though fleeting, are like finding a rose blooming in a graveyard, offering a much-needed emotional breather before the next shotgun symphony.
Animal is a sensory feast for the brave. Cinematographer Eero Saarinen bathes the Mumbai underworld in neon and smoke, creating a visually intoxicating atmosphere that's equal parts Scorsese and Lynch. The pulsating score by Amit Trivedi is the film's emotional heartbeat, driving the narrative forward with a rhythm that makes your pulse quicken and your feet tap, even as your brain screams "danger zone!" Every element, from the meticulously designed costumes that drip with gangster swagger to the visceral sound design that makes every bullet impact feel like a punch to the gut, works in concert to create a world that is both seductive and utterly unforgiving.
However, Animal isn't for everyone. The unrelenting violence might feel like a Tarantino marathon on fast-forward for some, while the film's operatic tone and melodrama could make even Al Pacino raise an eyebrow. The narrative's complexity can be as tangled as a Mob accountant's spreadsheets, and the three-hour runtime might test the patience of viewers seeking a quick action fix.
But for those willing to surrender to its audacious vision, Animal is a cinematic rollercoaster that leaves you feeling like you just rode a dragon made of pure adrenaline. It's a film that provokes discussion and challenges expectations. It's not perfect, but its flaws are mere brushstrokes on a canvas that pulsates with raw energy and emotional resonance. Vanga has crafted a film that is as unapologetically brutal as it is undeniably entertaining, a modern gangster epic that announces him as a filmmaker unafraid to push boundaries and leave audiences breathless, even if they're gasping for air through a mixture of awe and terror.
So, strap in, grab your metaphorical bulletproof vest, and dive into the blood-soaked opera of Animal. Just be prepared to emerge shaken, stirred, and utterly enthralled by the savage beauty of this cinematic beast.
Ranbir Kapoor sheds his boyish charm like a cobra molting its skin to embody Jung Bahadur Singh, a man whose love for his gangster father curdles into molten rage after a betrayal that would make Shakespeare jealous. Kapoor is a revelation, his eyes smoldering with manic intensity, every move a predator calculating its next pounce. This isn't your typical hero's journey; Jung is an anti-hero dipped in acid, his righteousness as twisted as a pretzel dipped in cyanide.
Vanga, who also wrote the story, crafts a narrative that's as labyrinthine as a Mobius strip lined with razor blades. Timelines fold and unfold like origami in a hurricane, past and present tangoing on a dance floor slick with betrayal. The story itself isn't exactly groundbreaking - family, betrayal, revenge, the usual mafia bingo - but it's the execution that makes Animal a disco ball in hell. Vanga paints his canvas with a lurid palette of violence, each action sequence a blood-soaked ballet choreographed by Tarantino on his angriest day. Bullets pirouette in slow-motion, arterial spray paints the screen in crimson, and every bone crack resonates with a sickening satisfaction that's oddly poetic.
Yet, amidst the operatic carnage, Vanga throws in unexpected grace notes of tenderness. Jung's relationship with his mother (Rashmika Mandanna) is a heartbreaking counterpoint to his descent into darkness. Her quiet strength and unwavering love offer a glimpse of the man Jung might have been, had fate not dealt him a hand with more aces than a Vegas backroom. These moments, though fleeting, are like finding a rose blooming in a graveyard, offering a much-needed emotional breather before the next shotgun symphony.
Animal is a sensory feast for the brave. Cinematographer Eero Saarinen bathes the Mumbai underworld in neon and smoke, creating a visually intoxicating atmosphere that's equal parts Scorsese and Lynch. The pulsating score by Amit Trivedi is the film's emotional heartbeat, driving the narrative forward with a rhythm that makes your pulse quicken and your feet tap, even as your brain screams "danger zone!" Every element, from the meticulously designed costumes that drip with gangster swagger to the visceral sound design that makes every bullet impact feel like a punch to the gut, works in concert to create a world that is both seductive and utterly unforgiving.
However, Animal isn't for everyone. The unrelenting violence might feel like a Tarantino marathon on fast-forward for some, while the film's operatic tone and melodrama could make even Al Pacino raise an eyebrow. The narrative's complexity can be as tangled as a Mob accountant's spreadsheets, and the three-hour runtime might test the patience of viewers seeking a quick action fix.
But for those willing to surrender to its audacious vision, Animal is a cinematic rollercoaster that leaves you feeling like you just rode a dragon made of pure adrenaline. It's a film that provokes discussion and challenges expectations. It's not perfect, but its flaws are mere brushstrokes on a canvas that pulsates with raw energy and emotional resonance. Vanga has crafted a film that is as unapologetically brutal as it is undeniably entertaining, a modern gangster epic that announces him as a filmmaker unafraid to push boundaries and leave audiences breathless, even if they're gasping for air through a mixture of awe and terror.
So, strap in, grab your metaphorical bulletproof vest, and dive into the blood-soaked opera of Animal. Just be prepared to emerge shaken, stirred, and utterly enthralled by the savage beauty of this cinematic beast.
- KaidoOfTheBeasts
- Jan 25, 2024