Animus

All I can think about in the wake of watching writer-director Chad St. John’s Animus is how much I love David Lynch and how much this film reminds me of him. The film stars Lydia Bottom as Beth, a woman who wanders into a coffee shop just after five in the morning. Iris (Hannah Ford) is the girl behind the counter who recognizes Beth as a recurring customer and thus greets her with the warmth of familiarity.

Beth proclaims she is going to be dining in instead of taking away today. Iris directs her toward any table in the house she chooses. There’s no one else there. Beth seems hesitant, lost in thought, images coming to her of a mysterious man, who we eventually learn is her fiancé. Iris breaks her chain of daydreaming and again offers her a seat. In inquiring what Beth would like to order, the peculiar breakfast choice of cheesecake seems to break the professional ice and redirects the dialogue toward a more personal angle. It’s here where things get interesting.

“Beth proclaims she is going to be dining in instead of taking away today.”

Like everything that was glorious about the poetic rendering of the dark underbelly that exists beneath what outwardly seems wholesome, best encapsulated in one of Lynch’s opus works, Twin Peaks, Animus brilliantly conjures a Lynchian presence as the conversation between clerk and client unfolds, going from casual to dark.

Master filmmakers like Scorsese and Bogdanovich have frequently made comment in the past regarding one of the greatest strengths in the director’s arsenal, that being their ability to limit or not show at all, possibly vital plot information, but by withholding it, making we the audience use our imagination to fill in the blanks.

Animus stands as evidence that Chad St. John is well equipped with this command of the cinematic language. We never know what Beth’s fiancé (Corey Wallace) said that offended her so badly that she had herself a ticket on the first bus out of town. That’s until she leaves Iris with more than a tip, leaving this reviewer flabbergasted, wondering, “Okay, that just happened!”

Indeed, that is the look on Ford’s face as her kindly clerk character has a bombshell dropped all over her early and eerie start to the day. Though I wish, perhaps in the climax’s aftermath, there had been some more darkness, as opposed to the breeze that comes in, carries a little Angelo Badalamenti-like music along with it. Animus is a fine short overall, though.