Animal Kingdom

As gritty, dysfunctional family, crime-fueled dramas go, Animal Kingdom roars with dark promise.

The most interesting character, or certainly most compelling, is Barkin’s Smurf. She’s a Ma Barker with cleavage, a brownie-baking Gemma Teller (“Sons of Anarchy”). Ultimately, she may be the one to seal the pact here.

They’re not a sympathetic collection of characters, but they can be compelling in their twistedness.

The concerned viewer will of course want him [J] to get as far away from them [the Codys] as possible, somewhere he can do his math homework in peace. At the same time, most every character gives you something to relate to; each has his secrets and cares. Executive producer John Wellsdirected the opening episodes; and the series is expertly made, and subtler than the premise suggests.

It’s a measured portrait of a complicated family that gives some credit to its audience.

It’s too easy to think of this family as sharks. Sharks are much kinder to their young. Animal Kingdom bites hard and doesn’t let up.

As the (unofficially) adopted son, Baz has always had more to prove than his siblings, but that status also motivates him to get out of Smurf’s thrall. Animal Kingdom could similarly hold sway over its audience, as long as it plays to the strengths of its cast.

Lisco and his writers do a good job weaving a compelling narrative, one that’s filled with action, but more significantly defined by the complexity of the individual characters.

Oh my goodness is this one filled with testosterone, reminding me a bit of FX’s “Sons of Anarchy.” ... Watch for Shawn Hatosy (“Southland”). He's creepy good as the whacko son with a mean streak.

A surfboard Sons of Anarchy adapted from an acclaimed 2010 Aussie flick, Animal Kingdom lives at the intersection of Polished Cable Pulp and Who Cares? The performances are good enough to enliven the antihero familiarity.

Animal Kingdom is not exactly a cerebral series. It's a show about guys doing guy things, complete with action sequences. And the characters are intriguing--although a little bit of Barkin goes a long way.

Animal Kingdom has a lot going for it, and its adrenaline-junkie characters benefit from not being weighed down by more dramatic darkness than they warrant. In particular, it’s a joy to watch Barkin sink her teeth into a role as juicy as Smurf.

It’s hard to shake the feeling this is another show without a protagonist; a remnant from the previous decade where antiheroes reigned and genuine do-gooders were passé.

Animal Kingdom is superficial and derivative of countless other films and crime shows, lacking the nihilistic heat of its source material and the transcendently elegant formality of Point Break. But it also decadently relishes in the objectification of both genders with amusing shamelessness.

There’s just enough cliché here to make Animal Kingdom as comfortable as air-conditioning. But Ellen Barkin’s reinvention of the Smurf role, finding new provocations in the already provocatively written role of a grandma crime boss, is a pleasant jolt.

While the two-hour movie was a wild ride, slow the pace down for television and the boys aren’t as much fun to hang with. Barkin is the best reason to watch. Always a restlessly interesting actress, Smurf gives her lots to play with, and she makes the role her own.

Animal Kingdom, based on a 2010 Australian film of the same title, won’t be to everyone’s taste, but fans of dark, family criminal enterprise shows (think: “Sons of Anarchy,” “Outsiders”) might be intrigued.

Animal Kingdom is nowhere near in the same league as The Americans or Fargo or the recently ended Justified. And if it’s trying to be Sons of Anarchy ... well, I think most viewers finally had enough of that, too.

This crowded house becomes a power keg of divided loyalties and jealousies, often playing out in reckless games of chicken that soon grow tiresome. [20-26 Jun 2016, p.16]

Highlighted by a deliciously sleazy turn from Ellen Barkin, Animal Kingdom slowly finds its footing, but it remains to be seen whether the characters’ low-life machinations will produce sufficient drama to justify audiences’ patience.

Take away the heists (and maybe Smurf's more extreme displays of affection), and you're left with a family whose dysfunctions--greed, drugs, mental illness, and the like--aren't so rare, however much they may endanger the species.

Even though Animal Kingdom is at the dark end of the network’s street, the material has been watered down and jazzed up, and characters have been redrawn to fit the larger-than-life requirements of American cable drama. ... For the TV show, [Smurf (Ellen Barkin) has] been turned into a more obvious, less interesting Ma Barker character, pulling the strings for her sons and skimming the profits.

Though the cast is packed with solid actors clearly eager to play morally shady thieves, the characters are not written with the kind of depth and texture that would make the Cody family’s crime sprees, troubled relationships, and simmering arguments worth following.

It’s hard not to root for the Codys to get busted--or worse. And that seems like it could be a big problem for the series going forward.

Great shows don't have to be this eager and this sloppy and this obvious. TNT will need to make Animal Kingdom improve significantly over the next several episodes if the series wants a shot at survival.