There are many approaches to capturing feminine rage on screen, and a handful of ambitious filmmakers have achieved this by going down a path that is animalistic, even supernatural. The metaphor of monstrous feminine transformation is a bold and ever-evolving technique that has been utilized in films like Ginger Snaps, Jennifer’s Body, Blue My Mind, Love Lies Bleeding, and even Disney’s Turning Red. In each of these films, the female leads are faced with extreme forms of metamorphosis resulting from dramatic, sometimes traumatic, circumstances. In Emma Benestan’s latest film Animale, she delicately crafts an entirely new vision of well-earned, feminine ferocity — one that the audience at Fantastic Fest hardly saw coming.
Benestan transports us to Camargue, France — where cowboys and ranchers reside — to offer us a rare peek into the unique world of French bullfighting and bull-running. Within this environment of bulls, blood, and machismo, we’re introduced to Nejma (Oulaya Amamra): the first woman to ever compete in the region’s favorite pastime. Though she is dedicated and talented in every aspect of caring for, herding, and training the bulls, Nejma sticks out like a sore thumb in this traditionally-masculine arena and struggles to gain respect from any of her cowboy comrades, besides her friend Tony (Damien Rebattel). When it’s time for Nejma to prove herself in the ring, she becomes more consumed and transformed by this sport than she ever could have imagined.
The anxiety is palpable in Animale, both in the ring and outside of it. Benestan carefully constructs a paranoid atmosphere where no man or beast seems trustworthy. It’s easy to sympathize with Nejma, who is often the subject of unfair scrutiny and suspicion. Her fellow bull-runners are equally fascinated and titillated by her presence in the locker room, speaking about her as if she cannot understand them — as if she, herself, is one of their bulls. By telling this story from Nejma’s perspective, the film’s sense of danger is all the more tangible and therefore, effective. Every glare feels like a dagger, every expression of uncertainty or doubt aches like an open wound.
Animale isn’t just a fascinating portrait of beastliness or a little slice of hillbilly heritage in France; it is a brutal confrontation of the ways in which we objectify and dehumanize women. Nejma is a woman of color surrounded by white, male peers who see her as nothing more than a novelty or fangirl of the sport. She is disrespected, demeaned, and underestimated—who could blame her for grabbing the bull by the horns and taking control of the situation? Amamra is an incredibly adept actress, and her talent combined with Benestan’s careful direction makes for a combustive viewing experience. Animale features the most striking and memorable cinematography I’ve seen all year, where I often found myself wincing or gasping at the most stunning, subtle shots. It makes perfect sense that Benestan won the award for Best Director at Fantastic Fest, and I’m extremely excited to see where this filmmaker goes next. In a year of contrived creeps from the horror genre, it’s immensely satisfying to witness a film that is so uniquely feral. Though Animale can be a bit intense at times, it might just leave you feeling bullish
