On Delivering Revenge in Nocturnal Animals

It would appear that within the world of men’s fashion there a dark forces at work, deeper than those suggested by Zoolander. For Tom Ford has written and directed his second feature, a tale of revenge that delves deep into the corners of the ugliness that man is capable of.

Employing the story within a story trope, Nocturnal Animals plays out part 90s noirish thriller, with a Basic Instinct (1992) aesthetic and part western. Amy Adams is a curator, the wife of a philandering banker and ex wife of Jake Gyllenhaal’s university lecturer/writer. A character we see in flashback and as Adams’ projection of him as the protagonist of his own novel he sent to her as a gift. A book entitled, rather ominously, Nocturnal Animals, the name he gave her when they were together. What you think you see in this film is not necessarily what has happened. 

Revenge is order of the day here and it is delivered in two different, equally impressive ways. The book within the film is one of revenge, the type that is suspenseful enough to get the heart racing and uncomfortably realistic in its portrayal of an everyman whose wife and child are taken in an act of deliberate road rage. As this plays out, at night, on an isolated road, you can’t help but ask yourself, what you would do in a similar situation when faced with savage men (the other nocturnal animals of the narrative). The moral of this disturbing tale of a man who loses everything is not lost on Adams as she reads. We find out in flashback that not only did she leave her ex husband but she aborted a child they would have; he lost his wife and child and now he is expressing the same in a novel. This revenge is scary, yet fictional, and we know that. Ford handles it with the steady hand of a seasoned director, but it is his management of the second form of revenge, the one that catches us off guard that really impresses. 

The slow, steady revenge of the whole narrative, the one that is playing out in well distributed flashbacks and only reveals itself in a final frame is quietly devastating. It is the equivalent of the jump scare of the cat in Alien (1979) versus the slow decline of the actual Alien in the background. The ex husband, who Adams arranges to meet for dinner on finishing the book represents more than just a catch up; for Adams he represents hope, the possibility of repairing damage and a new start for her as her current relationship collapses and she questions her own decisions. The stakes are high as she waits in the restaurant. And waits. For the ex husband never shows; his revenge is delivered cold. He has not forgotten and he has not forgiven and the novel was not a gift, but a punishment. The bow on top - his absence. 

Ford’s script and direction are intelligent and beautiful. It is a film that is hard to forget, and not just for the kidnapping, but more for the lingering shot of Adams sat in a restaurant alone, being punished for decisions she made twenty years ago.