I’ve been down that road before: the long stretch of emptiness blanketed in darkness. The only sounds to soothe the soul being the rustling of leaves in the wind, the chirping of crickets, and/or the passengers in the car making conversation. The longer the drive, the more the sense of foreboding dread overcomes the senses. The mere sight of another car sends shivers down the spine, as the driver could be a maniac with an axe to grind. Nobody is around for miles, so if and when tragedy strikes, there will be no help. One begins to make monsters out of nothing.
Tony Hastings (Jake Gyllenhaal) isn’t making monsters out of nothing. His monsters are real, lurking in that long stretch of emptiness. They target him and his family: his wife, Laura (Isla Fisher), and daughter, India (Ellie Bamber). Led by Ray Marcus (Aaron Taylor-Johnson), the gang of mysterious hoodlums drive the family off the road in the middle of the desert, taking the women hostage. Tony is led on a wild goose chase by underling Lou (Karl Glusman), one that eventually leads to his escape. By the time he returns with the local sheriff, Bobby Andes (Michael Shannon), his loved ones had been raped and murdered.
This is the story of “Nocturnal Animals” the novel, which plays opposite the film. It is a manuscript by Edward Sheffield (Jake Gyllenhaal) gifted to his ex-wife, Susan Morrow (Amy Adams). It is dedicated to her, the title a callback to his playful nickname for her. This act, coupled with the raw revenge fable contained within, has her teetering on the verge of a mental breakdown. Why that is being a mystery stacked atop the mystery of the novel’s story.
It is a tricky task juggling two mysteries at once, one that Tom Ford is up to the challenge for. He seamlessly interconnects the two stories, the vengeance of Tony Hastings taking the bulk of the screen time. It needs to in order to complement Susan’s descent into madness. We are introduced to her as a sad soul purveying over her abnormal art show (featuring the human body at its most vulnerable, which garnered chuckles from my screening’s audience). She is stuck in a seemingly loveless marriage to workaholic Hutton (Armie Hammer). Thoughts of her ex-husband have been creeping up as of late, the unannounced arrival of his manuscript eerily timed.
From the second Susan puts the book down following the capture of Tony’s family, it’s clear something’s up. Is this a fictional account of true events she suffered during her marriage to Edward? Laura bears a striking resemblance to her, especially in the shadows. Is that a result of Edward’s writing or Susan’s mind manifesting what she wants out of the character? And what of the daughter? She too bears a striking resemblance to Susan’s daughter, Samantha (India Menuez), whom she calls to confirm her safety. Is “Nocturnal Animals” a secret confession?
Through well-placed flashbacks, we see the rise and fall of Edward and Susan’s marriage. Their adorable first date in New York City to their eventual engagement leading all the way to their separation. Throughout it all, Edward is seen as caring but meek, which Susan’s callous mother, Anne (Laura Linney), warns her about. She despises the idea of turning out like her mother, an observation that Edward picks up on. She shares the same sad eyes as her mother and begrudgingly agrees with her that her husband is weak.
Tony is the carbon copy of Edward, straight down to the tractability. When Ray and his goons corner him and his family, Tony cowers into the shadows. Fits of rage briefly overcome him, but he is unable to act upon them. Even when the opportunity arises, he doesn’t lunge to his family’s defense. The mere moment he does, he is taken down with ease. The intimidation is done without any guns; just the bravado and brute force of the gang. All Lou has to do to get Tony to drive about aimlessly through the desert is ask. We see this submissive behavior in Edward and wonder if this book is more a disturbed memoir than pulp fiction.
The beauty of “Nocturnal Animals” is in how gripping the novel within the film is. It could be a standalone feature and still stand tall. While it’s a simple revenge tale of Tony teaming with Sheriff Andes in search of justice, it is so intense that it draws the viewer in. The tension in the abduction is palpable that it lingered with me as it did with Tony. I felt a bond with his despair, my emotions as shot as his.
Had the novel of “Nocturnal Animals” been its own entity, it would’ve stumbled in a few places. There are a few instances of questionable validity, such as a police lineup taking place directly in front of Tony instead of behind a one-sided mirror. Sheriff Andes, as engaging as he is, is a little too over the top at times. His interrogation methods would surely get him in hot water, such as foregoing the Miranda rights and straight-up abducting suspects. It’s all presented with tenacity as to make the flaws easy to brush off, but they would be bothersome had they been submitted as an individual unit.
Why none of that is a negative is because it is brilliantly implemented into the film as a whole! It makes sense for the novel to showboat a bit, as it reflects the tendencies of Edward as an author. One flashback details a criticism from Susan that his writing is too focused on himself, slightly losing her attention. The exaggerated tropes act as a response to that criticism.
Also helping the novel’s tension is the festering dread throughout both stories. There is something odd in Susan’s demeanor ever since she opened the manuscript. There is more fear in her eyes than sadness, hints of regret surfacing from time to time. Her deteriorating psychosis matches that of Toby’s, leading me to believe the two stories were going to collide head-on at one point. They begin to intertwine as Susan sees visions of Ray at one point in what could possibly be the best jump scare in cinematic history! Only “The Exorcist III” has it beat and that’s debatable.
The ambiguity on display will leave some viewers cold. The couple in front of me seemed turned off at points, wanting answers that weren’t provided. As for myself, the dubiety only heightened the suspense and aided in keeping the film in my brain long after it was viewed. Ever since I walked out of the theater, I’ve been rattling my brain over the implications. What did the ending mean? What did some of the flashbacks represent? Are my theories lining up with Tom Ford’s vision, or is his vision that of uncertainty? The suspense comes from the broken mental state, the ambiguity a representative of that.
While I have my reservations on some of the ambiguity, they’re not enough to tarnish my overall experience. If anything, those reservations only enhance the experience in the long run. “Nocturnal Animals” is a near-flawless thriller with tension that never lets up! Almost every frame has stuck with me as the hours have passed from my screening. They’ll no doubt stick with me for months to come.
Final Rating: A