Dangerous Animals

Making this work requires wit, the right tone and a ruthless sense of pace. Byrne manages all three with a sure hand.

Taut and well crafted, a worthy birthday present to “Jaws,” celebrating its 50th anniversary this summer.

...Sean Byrne’s third feature is neither as gripping as The Loved Ones, his prom-night horror, nor as intriguing as The Devil’s Candy, his supernatural heavy-metal thriller, but it rattles along as effective B-movie gore.

Courtney delivers a knowingly gonzo performance as Tucker, blazing past his history of ho-hum Hollywood heroes (Terminator Genisys, Suicide Squad, Divergent) to deliver a truly inspiring villain whose insanity knows no bounds.

Jai Courtney is superb as a kind of satanic version of Steve Irwin, jocular, sententious and insane.

This film has an audience, certainly, but it feels very derivative.

The dumbness is in the details when screenwriter Nick Lepard sacrifices “Jaws”-level realism by succumbing to B-movie contrivances.

After a terrific opening scene Dangerous Animals almost immediately sinks—spilling its guts on the floor, we spend the remaining time watching everybody slip around in them. Purely put, it stinks.

It’s tempting to say that Dangerous Animals is “Silence of the Lambs” via “Jaws,” but in its sadistic horror, it’s more like “Saw” at sea than anything else.

It’s Courtney’s turn as the demented sea captain that really fuels Dangerous Animals’ sick pleasures. His unhinged performance as a shark-wrangling sociopath feels like the role he was born to play.