●●●●○

In an armrest-gripping space of two hours, Bart Layton’s American Animals allows us to take part in the moronic heist carried out by four idiots in the Transylvania University. Irish viewers may be enticed by the presence of Barry Keoghan, whose compelling performance in The Killing of a Sacred Deer is echoed here in the plantivity of Spencer. Keoghan outshines the others, though the performance of Evan Peters as Warren, best known for his roles in American Horror Story, is notable in its painful accuracy.

The adult selves of the four participants tell the tale from the future, anticipating and reflecting on different actions. The mockumentary style lends itself well to both humour and regret, the event has shaped the lives of the (still) young men, and their narrative lingers over the exciting events, helping to accentuate the arrogance of their youth.

Warren and Spencer’s adult selves blame each other for the emergence of the plan, the scene that best captures its genesis seeing Spencer and Warren seated in a car in a parking lot on one of their bored excursions. Spencer expresses without irony – while watching teenagers spin a burning trolly around the lot – the sense of waiting for something to happen in his life. The sense of being in the twilight of one’s adolescence and the disappointment of the move into the monogamy and “unspecialness” of early adult life is something most of Gen-Z will probably feel on a spiritual level.

Warren appears to drive the heist via this notion of “unspecialness”, stating that, “You’re taught your entire life that what you do matters and that you’re special.” But we are not special. However it is the privilege of the young men that starts to distance us from this sentiment. Wealth and familial support have afforded them opportunities that they toy with.

We all know a Warren, a Spencer, a Chas and an Eric. The stereotypical dynamics illustrate the overconfidence and conviction that specifically possesses the middle class, frustrated, white American male. Only that privilege can account for what escalates into harmful, fruitless actions. In an assessment of the American Dream, the animalistic, ill-calculated behaviour of the manchildren ascends from their boredom.

The film is brilliant in its articulation of maleness and searing commentary on middle class America. The heist itself, as well as the action scenes, keep the film at pace. The film, however, does try to keep them endearing. One can’t help but wonder if non-white, non-middle class criminals would have had their escapade glamorised or forgiven in this way. Perhaps that makes the film all the more thought provoking, or perhaps it’s a sign of a continuing problem. The film doesn’t do that reflexive work.