Animal Factory is a small, edgy, character-driven film, just the kind of movie that actor Steve Buschemi would be likely to turn up in. But this time, he’s on the other side of the camera in the director’s seat and he does a pretty fine job of it.

Now, this is by no means a great film, but it is a good film, especially since it manages to mine familiar territory and offer up some new ideas. After all, this is a prison movie and there’s just so much that you can do with the venue. Rape, murder, drugs, racial strife. Court room appeals, escape plans and violent retribution. Yep, we’ve seen it all, on more than one occasion. What makes this film seem fresh – as is the case with any genre picture – is the cast of empathetic characters, headed up by Willem Dafoe as old timer Earl and Edward Furlong as prison newbie Ron Decker, a drug dealing rich kid.

The core of this movie is the relationship that develops between Earl and Ron, who quickly learns that he needs someone to look out for him or he’ll soon be some tough guy’s punk, a quaint phrase for “jail lover.” Whether Earl sees his younger self in Ron or simply hungers to be a father figure is never made clear. Even Earl doesn’t really know what it is, but he knows that every new inmate needs a friend, something he ever had. He doesn’t want Ron to be his punk, but he needs “something” from him. Companionship, respect, love. All of these play a role in this unlikely and often touching friendship.

Earl wastes no time putting himself on the line for Ron, stopping a bully from provoking a fight that could end in Ron’s death. Ron confesses with embarrassment that “I’m just not in my element here” and Earl quickly realizes that this pretty-faced kid needs to know the jailhouse ropes if he’s going to stay alive among the savages. Part of surviving in prison is finding a safe place to live and getting the right job. Earl solves both these problems for Ron, first by getting the kid transferred to his prison block and then getting him a non-labor intensive job in the library.

Of course, Ron’s affiliation with Earl’s “gang” doesn’t stand him in good stead with the powers that be, who think Ron has a chance at an appeal of he doesn’t mix wit the wrong types. But for Ron, he finds that he enjoys the camaraderie and the trust these men accord him. In other words, he belongs, probably for the first time in his life. In fact, when he loses his court case, he returns without regret and with more of a prison swagger. Now, he’s one of the boys. His transformation is quietly tragic, although it could have been developed a tad more.

As for the rest of the film? It’s pretty standard prison issue. There is racial strife and a potential riot, there are drugs and revenge killings along with the day-to-day cell block blues. Nothing here is exactly what you’d call riveting, but it is most certainly engaging. The real story is a quiet one of how Ron and Earl grow as the result of a friendship that would probably never happen on the outside. But then, as Earl says, “there’s a curtain between in here and out there.”

It seems that Hollywood – both the mainstream and the independent fringe -- has a set view of men and women. Women go crazy, as in Girl Interrupted and men go to prison. In both cases, there is a fall from grace and a loss of innocence and it’s these elements that Buscemi emphasizes in Animal Factory. This isn’t by any means a sweeping vision of prison as a microcosm of life like The Shawshank Redemption. Yet it explores, with great effectiveness, the same issues of loyalty, trust and true friendship. Buscemi shows that he’s learned a lot as an actor and he translates that sensitivity to his tour behind the lens.