final moment

TORONTO — As soon as Blake Treinen entered for the ninth inning of Game 5 of the World Series on Wednesday night, Clayton Kershaw dropped his guard and began to look around.

For the previous three hours, the future Hall of Fame pitcher had been locked in on the game, mentally preparing for a potential relief appearance from out in the bullpen.

But when that didn’t come, the 37-year-old Kershaw then let himself relax, took in the scene of an October night at Chavez Ravine, and soaked up the final moments of what was his final game ever at Dodger Stadium.

“It’s a weird thought, of like, ‘This is your last game ever there,’” said Kershaw, who announced last month he will retire at the end of this season. “And not a sad thought. Honestly, just a grateful thought. Just like, ‘Man, we spent a lot of great times here.’”

Win or lose in Games 6 and 7 of this World Series, Kershaw’s overall career will end this weekend at Rogers Centre in Toronto. But on Wednesday night, he closed the book on the ballpark he has called home for all 18 seasons of his illustrious MLB career.

Dodger Stadium is where Kershaw first made his big-league debut back in May 2008, as a highly anticipated left-handed prospect with a big curveball and quiet demeanor. It was the stage for his rise to stardom over the nearly two decades that followed, as he went on to capture three Cy Young Awards, 2014 National League MVP honors and a career 2.53 ERA that ranks as the best among pitchers with 1,000 innings in the live ball era.

It is where he experienced some of the most defining moments of his career, including a no-hitter in 2014 and his 3,000th strikeout earlier this year. It’s also where he suffered repeated October disappointments, none bigger than the back-to-back home runs he gave up in Game 5 of the 2019 National League Division Series.

In other words, it was always home for Kershaw, the place he would return to day after day, year after year, season after season — no matter the highs or lows, aches and pains, successes or failures.

“I just started thinking about it when the game ended,” said Kershaw, who elected to traverse the field to get back to the clubhouse after Wednesday’s game instead of the connected bullpen tunnel. “I was like, ‘Man, I might as well walk across this thing one more time.’”

About an hour later, Kershaw would linger on the field a little longer, joined for an impromptu gathering by his wife, Ellen; their four children; and other family and friends in attendance for his last home game.

“Ellen just texted after and was like, ‘Hey, we got a big crew,’” Kershaw said. “So I was, ‘Well, just go to the field. I’ll try to shower fast so we can hang out.’”

Television cameras caught Kershaw laughing as his kids ran the bases, tried to throw baseballs at a hovering drone and enjoyed a diamond that had become their own personal childhood playground over the years.

At one point, Kershaw posed with the Dodger Stadium grounds crew for a picture — standing on a mound they had manicured for all of his 228 career starts in the stadium.

“Honestly, it was awesome,” Kershaw said. “It was the perfect way to do it. Just have everybody out there, running around … It was unplanned, unprompted, but a great memory.”

Kershaw, of course, is hoping to add one more Dodger Stadium memory next week. If the team can reverse its three-games-to-two deficit in the World Series this weekend in Toronto, it would return to Chavez Ravine for a championship celebration.

If not, though, he’ll have a couple parting moments to cherish, from Wednesday’s postgame scene down on the field, to his final career Dodger Stadium outing back in Game 4 in which he stranded the bases loaded in the 12th for one of the biggest outs in his entire career.

“I’m super grateful with how that went, as opposed to the last time before that,” he quipped, having given up five runs in his only other Dodger Stadium appearance this postseason. “You can’t plan any of that stuff. Who knows if it ever works out. But yeah, to get that one last out was pretty cool.”

So, too, was his one last night Wednesday.

Sean Byrne knows how to show an audience a bad time. Sixteen years ago, the Australian filmmaker launched onto the scene with “The Loved Ones,” his proudly grisly debut about a misfit teenager who gets gruesome revenge on the boy who refused to go to prom with her. Part expert torture porn, part exploration of adolescent romantic anxieties, the film was an instant midnight-madness cult item that took Byrne six years to follow up.

When he did, he went in a different tonal direction with “The Devil’s Candy,” a surprisingly emotional psychological thriller about a heavy-metal-loving painter who moves his family to a beautifully rustic home, only to lose his mind. Working in recognizable horror subgenres, Byrne entices you with a familiar premise and then slowly teases apart the tropes, leaving you unsettled but also invigorated by his inventiveness.

It has now been a decade since that distinctive riff on “The Shining,” and for Byrne’s third feature, he once again pillages from indelible sources. “Dangerous Animals” draws from both the serial-killer thriller and Hollywood’s penchant for survival stories about hungry sharks feasting on human flesh. But unlike in the past, Byrne’s new movie never waylays you with a surprise narrative wrinkle or unexpected thematic depth. He hasn’t lost his knack for generating bad vibes, but this time he hasn’t brought anything else to the party.

The movie stars Hassie Harrison as Zephyr, a solitary surfer who explains in on-the-nose dialogue that she prefers the danger of open water to the unhappiness of life on land. An American in Australia who grew up in foster homes and who lives in a beat-up old van, Zephyr encounters Moses (Josh Heuston), a straitlaced nice guy whom she hooks up with. Not that she wants him developing feelings for her: She takes off in the middle of the night so she can catch some waves. Unfortunately, Zephyr is the one who gets caught — by Tucker (Jai Courtney), a deceptively gregarious boat captain who kidnaps her. Next thing she knows, she’s chained up inside his vessel out at sea, alongside another female victim, Heather (Ella Newton).

Like many a movie serial killer, Tucker isn’t just interested in murdering his prey — he wants to make something artistic out of his butchery. And so he ties Heather to a crane and dangles her in the water like a giant lure, pulling out a camcorder to record her final moments as sharks devour her. Watching his victims struggle to stay alive is cinema to this twisted soul and Zephyr will be his next unwitting protagonist.

Working from a script by visual artist Nick Lepard, Byrne (who wrote his two previous features) digs into the story’s B-movie appeal. Tucker may use old-fashioned technology to record his kills, but “Dangerous Animals” is set in the present, even if its trashy, drive-in essence would have made it better suited to come out 50 years ago as counterprogramming to “Jaws.” With Zephyr’s tough-girl demeanor and Tucker’s creepy vibe, Byrne knowingly plays into genre clichés, setting up the inevitable showdown between the beauty and the beast.

But despite that juicy setup, “Dangerous Animals” is a disappointingly straightforward and ultimately underwhelming horror movie, offering little of the grim poetry of Byrne’s previous work and far too much of the narrative predictability that in the past he astutely sidestepped. There are still subversive ideas — for one thing, this is a shark film with precious few sharks — but Byrne’s sneaky smarts have largely abandoned him. Rather than transcending expectations, “Dangerous Animals” surrenders to them.

One can’t fault Harrison, whose Zephyr spends much of the movie in a battle of wills with her captor. Because “Dangerous Animals” limits the amount of sharks we see, digitally inserting footage of the deadly creatures into scenes, the story’s central tension comes from Zephyr trying to free herself or get help before Tucker prepares his next nautical snuff film. Harrison projects a ferocious determination that’s paired with an intense loathing for this condescending, demented misogynist. It’s bad enough that Tucker wants to murder her — beforehand, he wants to bore her with shark trivia, dully advocating for these misunderstood animals. It’s an underdeveloped joke: “Dangerous Animals” is a nightmare about meeting the mansplainer from hell.

Alas, Courtney’s conception of the film’s true dangerous animal is where the story truly runs aground. The actor’s handsome, vaguely blank countenance is meant to suggest a burly, hunky everyman — the sort of person you’d never suspect or look twice at, which makes Tucker well-positioned to leave a trail of corpses in his path. But neither Byrne nor Courtney entirely gets their arms around this conventionally unhinged horror villain. “Dangerous Animals” overly underlines its point that we shouldn’t be afraid of sharks — it’s the Tuckers who ought to keep us up at night — but Courtney never captures the unfathomable malice beneath the facial scruff. We root for Zephyr to escape Tucker’s clutches not because he’s evil but because he’s a bit of a stiff.

Even with those deficiencies, the film boasts a level of craft that keeps the story fleet, with Byrne relying on the dependable tension of a victim trapped at sea with her pursuer, sharks waiting in the waters surrounding her. Michael Yezerski’s winkingly emphatic score juices every scare as the gore keeps ratcheting up — particularly during a moment when Zephyr finds an unexpected way to break out of handcuffs.

But Byrne can’t redeem the script’s boneheaded plot twists, nor can he elevate the most potentially intriguing idea at its core. As Tucker peers into his viewfinder, getting off on his victims’ screams as sharks sink their jaws into them, “Dangerous Animals” hints at the fixation horror directors such as Byrne have for presenting us with unspeakable terrors, insisting we love the bloodshed as much as they do. Tucker tries to convince Zephyr that they’re not all that different — they’re both sharks, you see — but in truth, Byrne may be suggesting an uncomfortable kinship with his serial killer. But instead of provocatively pursuing that unholy bond, the director only finds chum.