𝐖𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐀𝐧𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐬 (𝟐𝟎𝟏𝟖)

We the Animals (2018) is a lyrical and intimate coming-of-age drama that follows three young brothers growing up in a working-class family in upstate New York. The film is told through the eyes of Jonah, the youngest, who sees the world with wonder, fear, and a deep sensitivity that sets him apart from his older siblings. Their parents, a passionate but volatile couple, love their children but struggle with their own inner demons. The family dynamic is raw and tender, marked by financial hardship, emotional unpredictability, and moments of wild joy. At the center of it all is Jonah, quietly absorbing everything and trying to make sense of who he is.

While the boys run through woods, swim in lakes, and roam their neighborhood like a pack of untamed animals, Jonah begins to realize that he’s different—not just from his brothers, but from what’s expected of him. He finds solace in drawing and writing, using his journal as a private world where he can express his fears and longings. The film captures his inner life through dreamlike animation and poetic narration, blurring the line between memory and imagination. Jonah’s creativity becomes a form of escape, a way to process the chaos around him and to begin shaping his own identity.

Tensions rise as the boys’ father, unpredictable and sometimes violent, drifts in and out of their lives. Their mother, emotionally worn down, tries to hold the family together, but the strain is visible. Jonah watches as his parents’ love flickers between passion and resentment, and he begins to understand the fragility of adult relationships. These moments are not explained through exposition—they’re felt, through body language, through silence, and through the haunting gaze of a child seeing things he doesn't yet have the words for.

As Jonah’s self-awareness deepens, he starts to explore feelings that separate him even further from his brothers. His budding queerness, portrayed with honesty and vulnerability, becomes a quiet current in the story, never sensationalized but deeply significant. He doesn’t speak about it—he observes, he draws, he imagines. This silent discovery of identity is one of the film’s most powerful threads, handled with restraint and compassion. Jonah’s journey is not just about growing up—it’s about breaking away, about the painful but necessary process of becoming oneself.

In the end, We the Animals is a film less about plot and more about emotion, memory, and transformation. It’s about what it feels like to be a child—sensitive, wild, confused, and yearning. Through its dreamlike visuals, tender performances, and poetic narration, the film captures the strange beauty of growing up when the world around you feels too loud, too messy, and too uncertain. It’s a quiet, aching portrait of difference and discovery, and of the moments that push us from who we were into who we are meant to become.