Dangerous Animals (2025)

Sean Byrne disappeared for a decade after The Devil’s Candy. Dangerous Animals feels like he spent those years studying what makes people squirm. The premise sounds ridiculous on paper: American surfer gets kidnapped by eco-warrior serial killer who thinks feeding tourists to sharks counts as environmental activism. Somehow, Byrne makes it work.

Hassie Harrison plays Zephyr, a drifter who washes up on Australia’s Gold Coast looking for something she can’t quite name. She meets Moses (Josh Heuston), a local real estate agent who surfs when he’s not showing beach houses to retirees. Their romance develops naturally—none of that meet-cute nonsense you’d expect. These feel like actual people having actual conversations. Which makes what happens next hit harder.

Enter Tucker, Jai Courtney’s shark tour operator with some very specific ideas about marine conservation. After years of wooden performances in franchise films, Courtney finally gets material worthy of his talents. Tucker runs these cage diving expeditions, all charming patter and local knowledge, until he starts explaining his philosophy about apex predators and food chains. The man’s completely barking mad, but Courtney sells every word with such conviction you almost buy into his twisted logic.

The first third takes its time establishing these relationships. Some might call it slow; I’d argue it’s necessary. Horror only works when you care about who’s being terrorised. Byrne understands this. He lets you get comfortable with these characters before yanking the rug out. The Gold Coast looks gorgeous in these early scenes—all that sunshine and surf culture that makes Australia such an appealing destination. Right up until it becomes a nightmare.

Once Tucker reveals his true nature, the film shifts into survival mode. Zephyr finds herself trapped on his boat, surrounded by water and circling sharks, trying to outwit someone who’s had years to perfect his method. Harrison handles the transition well. Her Zephyr isn’t some action hero; she’s terrified and improvising, which makes her resourcefulness feel earned rather than convenient.

Byrne’s direction stays controlled throughout. He knows when to show violence and when to let your imagination fill the gaps. The score, all ominous strings and sudden stingers, does heavy lifting in building tension. Even the shark sequences, clearly working with limited resources, manage to feel threatening. It’s not about the effects; it’s about the situation.

The film does stumble in places. That careful character building occasionally drags, and the ending throws too many last-minute reversals at you. Just when you think it’s over, another twist surfaces. Some land effectively; others feel like Byrne couldn’t decide how to wrap things up. After building such effective tension, knowing when to release it becomes crucial.

Tucker’s environmental angle adds unexpected layers to standard slasher material. He genuinely believes he’s helping the ocean by removing human interference. It’s absurd and terrifying in equal measure—a villain who considers himself a conservationist. Very Australian, really. We’ve always had a complicated relationship with our environment.

This reminded me of Razorback, Russell Mulcahy’s 1984 creature feature that mixed outback menace with horror elements. Both films understand that Australian landscapes can be characters themselves—beautiful and hostile simultaneously. Byrne updates this approach for contemporary environmental anxieties while maintaining that isolation that makes local horror so effective.

The reception of Dangerous Animals has been positive, and deservedly so. Critics seem to appreciate Byrne’s restraint and craft. He isn’t trying to revolutionise anything; it’s simply well-made genre filmmaking that respects its audience. Every element serves the story rather than showing off technical prowess.

Walking out, you won’t feel transformed by the experience, but you might reconsider that next boat tour. Dangerous Animals works because it takes familiar elements and executes them with genuine skill. Byrne proves he’s worth the wait, though hopefully he won’t test our patience quite so thoroughly again. Some of us have been waiting long enough to see what Australian horror can achieve when someone who understands the genre gets proper resources and creative freedom.