“Animals of the Land” is a beautifully vicious folk horror that turns biblical myth into a slow-burning hell of sacrifice and human darkness.
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MORBID MINI: Bleak, beautiful, and deeply unnerving, Animals of the Land is a poetic descent into faith, family, and the savage rot at the heart of man.
Give a man the world, and he’ll tear it apart in the unquenchable desire for more. Tempt him to sin, and he’ll scorch the Earth in his desire to avoid accountability.
If you’re a fan of feverish folk horror and allegorical nightmares about the perversion of faith, buckle up for a nasty little excursion to the origin of man and the downfall of humanity. Animals of the Land takes a bloody stab at retelling the Book of Genesis, marinating in the themes of temptation, guilt, betrayal, and the desperate attempts to regain the promise of grace at all costs.
In this version of the Garden of Eden, writer-director Luke Jaden turns the patriarchal fable on its head by reimagining the unspoiled Kingdom as a gift of a benevolent (but not-to-be-trifled-with) Goddess.
(Sidenote: It always struck me as odd that we view nature and the Earth itself as female—the essential life giver—yet the Creator in Judeo-Christian faith is deemed male. He made everything; She is everything.)
In this reimagined utopia, a couple (the pregnant Willow and her husband Clay) live off the pristine land with their two young sons, River and Rye. They worship their Goddess, and the land She’s provided, with cult-like devotion.
This means strictly obeying the rules of their doctrine. It means vowing to never interfere with their Creator’s will, even if they don’t always understand Her ways.
One day, a dangerous intruder threatens their peaceful existence. A violent, potentially sick, boar is eviscerating the livestock. It’s a difficult blow to the family that feels a spiritual connection to the animals of the land.
It soon becomes clear that the boar’s bloodlust will not be easily quelled, and it poses a real threat to the humans as much as the other creatures. This results in an agonizing dilemma over how to handle the danger. Their Goddess forbids them from killing the creature. Even restraining it, as Clay (Jord Knotter) eventually agrees, must be done, is a risky proposition.
When the animal turns up butchered, Clay turns into a madman. He becomes convinced his oldest son betrayed the family by killing the animal. We watch his devastating attempt at cleansing the young boy’s sin through torture before the Goddess can exact an even greater punishment.
A shattered Willow (Andrea Tivadar) tries to intervene in a father’s “tough” love.
Things quickly go from bad to worse as the family must prove what they’re willing to sacrifice to maintain their comfort.
It escalates into a feral, ferocious climax that pulls the rug out from under viewers in a cruel yet deeply satisfying way.
It’s a jaw-dropping, stinging shocker that attempts to explain why we rewrote history to include a vengeful male God and made a woman the scapegoat for all our inherited sin.
Besides a gripping and mean little narrative, Animals of the Land is gorgeously shot. Though, to be fair, it does feature some very dark scenes that can be difficult to decipher. See it with the best lighting and screen resolution possible.
It’s a slow-moving tale that may feel a bit too meandering for less patient viewers.
At times, it’s quite visceral and deeply uncomfortable, but this is ultimately a quiet horror film that seeks to slowly envelop you rather than constantly wallop you.
When it does strike, it lands like a serpent sinking its venomous teeth into unsuspecting skin. It’s both brutal and brilliant.
Focusing on themes of nature, religion, choice and consequences, and the inherent darkness of man, Animals of the Land is staggering and jarring. Another “not for everyone” gem, it’s best enjoyed by lovers of arthouse horror and fans of surreally bleak and beautiful films like Lamb and Midsommar.
Animals of the Land is a film that fearlessly goes to places it shouldn’t go and is all the better for it. It’s a bloody, poetic tome that left me spellbound and speechless.
Overall Rating (Out of 5 Butterflies): 4
