Animol review: Ashley Walters tense and tender feature debut shines light on young offenders
The last place a 15-year-old wants to find himself is in a young offenders institution, where Animol shines its light.
In his feature directorial debut, acclaimed Top Boy star, recording artist, director, writer, and producer Ashley Walters explores the constant tension, threat, and camaraderie of boys whose lives have taken a serious turn. Co-written by Walters and Nick Love (Marching Powder) based on their experiences with such institutions, Animol boasts a talented young cast buoyed by an outstanding Tut Nyuot (The Long Walk), and supported by a characteristically brilliant Stephen Graham (Adolescence).
With superb cinematography and production design, commendably interior performances from an impeccable young cast, and unflinching authenticity in its detail, Animol presents an experience of young offenders, where being real feels impossible and redemption’s just a glimmer.
Animol takes you inside a young offenders institution with grit and humanity
Credit: SLNDA
Awaiting incarceration in a young offenders institution, British teenager Troy prepares himself for the worst. Cast into a seriously adult situation, the 15-year-old instantly bonds with Polish boy Krystiyan (Ukrainian actor Vladyslav Baliuk). In the same breath, he’s extorted into smuggling a burner phone by power player Dion (Boarders star Sekou Diaby). “You’re stepping into my world now,” Dion declares, and Troy soon finds out he’s dead right. As soon as he moves in with mercurial cellmate Mason (The Jetty‘s Ryan Dean), Troy finds himself in a dangerous position between Dion and Mason, two very different ticking time bombs.
Trying to find his place while watching his back, Troy walks a knife’s edge between security and exposure, with open assaults in the mess hall a regular occurrence and the idea of being his authentic self a laughable idea. However, in the midst of this constant suspicion, violence, and insomnia, Troy’s tender bond with Krystiyan becomes a place of solace, of peace, of a yearning he’s suppressed in himself.
Overseen by well-meaning welfare officer Claypole (Graham), Troy takes it day-by-day inside. Animol presents Troy’s experience as one of constant self-doubt, isolation, hopelessness, and survival. His lifeline beyond the walls is his mother Joy (an impeccable Sharon Duncan Brewster), with their relationship strained under her struggle with addiction and sobriety. Over the course of the film, Troy and his fellow inmates grapple with a sense of identity behind bars, struggling to discern between friendship and manipulation, toxic masculine bravado and vulnerability, and the inability to communicate.
Animol uses unflinching cinematography to showcase a talented young cast
Credit: SLNDA
With Walters an actor’s director, his connection with the cast is clear, allowing each to flourish in long close-up takes. Each scene of Animol, particularly Nyuot’s intensely interior performance, is intimately shot by director of photography Tasha Back (In Camera) and edited by Danielle Palmer (Steve). The film allows silences to sit, unspoken words between characters to be amplified — a scene in which Diaby’s Dion silently scrutinises Troy is an unsettling example. Nyuot finds balance between moments of adult survival and adolescent vulnerability, making tender scenes with Krystiyan a precious rarity, and scenes in which he’s forced into brutality an anguish to watch. Troy holds so much, with no outlet safe.
As the two kings of the yard in Animol, Diaby and Dean bring contrasting approaches to Dion and Mason, hardened boys leaning into adult criminality and extreme violence to survive and dominate. Diaby’s chilling veneer of composure and Dean’s serpentine calculation make for formidable opposing forces, each a unique tinderbox for Troy.
Though seldom onscreen, it’s a delight to see Graham reconnected with Walters, having worked together on A Thousand Blows and Adolescence. Drawing from his mother’s experience as a social worker, Graham presents Claypole as a man not beaten by the system but finding humanity within it. An Animol highlight sees the empathetic welfare officer encouraging the boys to ditch their inhibitions and be themselves through unconventional action, a radically vulnerable scene in an institution where masks are key.
Notably, Animol doesn’t sensationalise Troy’s experience in the young offenders institute, with Swindle’s sparing, impactful score and production designer Gini Godwin (Queenie, Champion) creating a world of state-run despair within dilapidated walls. Marks of previously incarcerated boys adorn the walls, reading “You are not animol,” and giving the film its title. Sound designer Roland Heap builds a haunting, unsettling world around Troy, as Back’s cinematography holds fast on his face night after night in his cell, enduring the taunts and rattles of the institution in his spartan bunk.
Ultimately, Walters crafts a compelling, harrowing, complex picture of life for young offenders, thrust into extreme survival mode in a place where toxic masculinity and homophobia run rife alongside loyalty and rare glimmers of friendship. What goes unsaid in Animol is its true power, with Walters allowing his talented cast to thrive in interior emotion and subtle action.
Animol was reviewed out of BFI London Film Festival and will be released in UK cinemas Oct. 30
