Though I love a twisted horror tale as much as the next child of the ’80s who grew up haunting the aisles of his local video store, I’ve never been able to commit fully to the niche market of the body horror genre. Still, from films like The Fly (both the 1958 original and David Cronenberg’s brilliant 1986 remake) to fringe offerings such as 2009’s Splice, the idea of bodily metamorphosis has captivated a large section of horror audiences with its blend of shock and intrigue.

With a clever historical nod to our cumulative fascination with mutation narratives, director Thomas Cailley’s The Animal Kingdom is a futuristic take on the theme that transcends the ordinary. Blending boundaries between man and beast with a captivating ambiguity, it’s a fascinating specimen, especially in a landscape increasingly infected with predictable beats and reheated plot summaries.

A mysterious mutation is gradually transforming humans all over the world into animals. It’s unclear what has triggered this evolution or who is susceptible, but those affected gradually lose the traits that make them identifiably human and unleash whatever beast is springing forth. That poses a threat to those closest to them, and so many are in confinement, waiting to be moved to areas designed to keep them secure…and the rest of the country safe until a cure can be found.

François (Romain Duris, Final Cut) finds himself in the middle of an evolving catastrophe after an accident during an otherwise routine transportation frees a horde of creatures into a forest. His wife, one of the afflicted, was on the bus and vanished into the depths of the woods.  Along with his 16-year-old-son Émile (Paul Kircher), François attempts to locate his wife before she flees further away or is caught by the local authorities, led by Julia (Adèle Exarchopoulos, Passages).  However, Émile starts to befriend other creatures he meets during his search, complicating the public perception of this strange species and altering his own destiny in the process.

A poignant exploration of love, sacrifice, and the extreme lengths to which we’ll go to protect those closest to us, The Animal Kingdom (or, Le Règne animal, as it premiered back in May at the Cannes Film Festival) is a film that has universal resonance. With its international cast and crew, the film takes elements from various cinematic and societal prickly points (stereotypes, racism, elitism, etc.). It transcends the expected to become a surprisingly moving work that engages your mind while it raises your pulse. It knows when to apply pressure and draw out tension, but it’s not out to scare audiences as much as it wants to speak to how frightening it can be when the fabric of your identity is inexplicably ebbing away.

As the father and son stalled in their period of adjustment to a new normal by a series of abnormal events, Duris and Kircher are well cast and sell what could have been unbelievable occurrences. For the sake of his family and sanity, the father, played by Duris, had accepted his wife’s condition long before the movie began. Still, Kircher’s character has genuine reservations that are gradually teased out in Cailley and Pauline Munier’s slick screenplay. I find Exarchopoulos a mesmerizing presence on film, and while she doesn’t have as much to do here when she is on screen, you wish the film had more time to follow her around. This is a creature feature at heart, though, and Cailley isn’t afraid to show the scales, feathers, and fur when they are called for.

I’m unsure if the film was released in time to qualify for the 2023 Oscars or if it is eligible for 2024, but the artistry in transforming humans into creatures is incredibly impressive, fully enhancing the visual hold the film has on the viewer. While the digital effects aren’t as successful (several flying sequences are amateur hour), the overall spectacle remains rather awe-inspiring. They go together with the world-building happening in the screenplay and from the respectful attention to nature paid by cinematographer David Cailley (the director’s brother).  A score by Andrea Laszlo De Simone echoes the haunting emotional journeys the characters embark on.

Standing tall as a fantastical sci-fi tale, The Animal Kingdom weaves tension and emotion into a memorably tight knot. The filmmakers have taken a big swing and connected for a line drive that consistently defies your expectations. With groundbreaking make-up detailing the kind of squirmy body horror even a semi-chicken like me could withstand, it’s a unique experience that backs up its stunning visuals with a thought-provoking story of relatable humanity.