When Zephyr, a savvy and free-spirited surfer, is abducted by a shark-obsessed serial killer and held captive on his boat, she must figure out how to escape before he carries out a ritualistic feeding to the sharks below.
In the ever-expanding sea of horror-thrillers, Dangerous Animals swims into view with teeth bared and a wicked grin. Directed by Sean Byrne and penned by Nick Lepard, this Australian-set survival shocker is a lean, mean genre hybrid that fuses the claustrophobic dread of captivity thrillers with the primal terror of shark-infested waters. It’s a film that knows exactly what it is, and leans into its madness with gleeful abandon.
At its core is Zephyr (Hassie Harrison), an American surfer drifting through Australia in search of peace and perhaps a fresh start. Her brief but tender connection with Moses (Josh Heuston), a fellow surfer with a kind heart, offers a glimmer of hope. But that hope is violently ripped away when she’s abducted by Bruce Tucker (Jai Courtney), a local fisherman with a warped sense of environmental duty. Tucker believes he’s restoring balance to nature by feeding tourists to sharks; and he documents each gruesome act with a voyeuristic obsession.
What follows is a taut, 100-minute descent into terror, as Zephyr finds herself trapped on Tucker’s boat, surrounded by open ocean and circling predators. But this isn’t a story about a helpless victim. Harrison’s Zephyr is a fighter; clever, determined, and unwilling to go down without a fight. Her performance is the film’s emotional anchor, grounding the chaos with grit and humanity. She brings nuance to a role that could have easily slipped into cliché, portraying Zephyr as both vulnerable and fiercely capable.
Jai Courtney, meanwhile, delivers what might be the most unhinged and magnetic performance of his career. As Tucker, he’s a blend of sadistic showman and cold-blooded killer. One moment he’s dancing in a kimono with a glass of wine, the next he’s watching snuff-like footage of his victims with chilling detachment. It’s a performance that recalls the theatrical menace of villains like Jigsaw from the Saw franchise; where the horror isn’t just in the violence, but in the twisted ideology behind it. Like Saw, Dangerous Animals gives its antagonist room to breathe, to monologue, to disturb us not just with actions but with intent.
The film’s greatest strength lies in its simplicity. With a small cast and a confined setting, Byrne crafts a relentless atmosphere of dread. The boat becomes a floating prison, and the beautiful yet merciless ocean serves as both backdrop and threat. Cinematographer Shelley Farthing-Dawe captures the eerie stillness of the sea and the claustrophobia of the ship’s interior with equal skill. The underwater sequences, in particular, are haunting, with sharks glide silently beneath the surface; a constant reminder of the danger lurking just out of sight.
Sound design by David White and a tense, pulsing score by Michael Yezerski elevate the experience further. The creak of metal, the crash of waves, the distant roar of the sea, it all combines to create an immersive soundscape that keeps the audience on edge. Every moment feels precarious, every silence loaded with potential violence.
Despite its modest budget, Dangerous Animals punches well above its weight. The practical effects are gruesomely effective, and the film doesn’t shy away from bloodshed. The opening scene involves a brutal, unflinching murder, and sets the tone immediately: this is not a film for the faint of heart. Yet, for all its gore, there’s a streak of black humor running through the narrative, a self-awareness that keeps it from tipping into gratuitousness.
The screenplay wisely avoids overcomplicating things. It’s a minimalist horror in the best sense; focused, efficient, and unrelenting. The plot revolves around a single, high-stakes situation, and while it occasionally flirts with repetition (the classic capture-escape-repeat rhythm), it never loses momentum. If anything, the cyclical nature of Zephyr’s attempts to escape only heightens the tension, making each new confrontation with Tucker more fraught than the last.
There are moments when the film gestures toward deeper themes, such as Tucker’s warped environmentalism, his childhood trauma and twisted Stockholm Syndrome, or the voyeuristic thrill of violence, but it never lingers long enough to bog down the pacing. This is a film more interested in sensation than subtext, and that’s not a criticism. It knows its audience and delivers exactly what it promises: a wild, bloody ride with a heroine worth rooting for and a villain you can’t look away from.
The chemistry between Harrison and Heuston, though only briefly explored, adds a welcome emotional layer. Their early scenes together are tender and believable, giving Zephyr’s ordeal greater weight. You want her to survive not just because she’s the protagonist, but because she’s been given just enough backstory and heart to make you care.
In many ways, Dangerous Animals feels like a spiritual cousin to the Saw series; not in its structure, but in its willingness to explore the psychology of its villain. Tucker isn’t just a faceless killer; he’s a man with a warped worldview, a self-appointed executioner who believes he’s doing the right thing. That complexity, paired with Courtney’s committed performance, elevates the film beyond standard slasher fare.
Ultimately, Dangerous Animals is a triumph of genre filmmaking on a shoestring budget. It’s bloody, claustrophobic, and unrelentingly tense, but it’s also stylish, smartly acted, and surprisingly character-driven. For fans of survival horror, aquatic terror, or just good old-fashioned grindhouse thrills, it’s a must-watch.
Dangerous Animals was released in NZ cinemas on June 12, 2025, and is now available of Prime Video.