Dogs. We love them and they’ve been dubbed man’s best friend since around the dawn of civilisation for very good reason. We use them for companionship, upholding the law, aiding the infirmed and even in sniffing out illness in people – but there’s one more service out four-legged friends provide that may never have dreamed of…
We’ve all had or seen that moment when the family pet suddenly sits up and stares at a blank space on wall for about a good five minutes while not moving. We’ve also seen them bark at empty corners and if ingenious new horror film, Good Boy, is to be believed, your pet doggo is doing it for a very good reason.
Filmed over a period of four years by director Ben Leonberg, Good Boy tells a classic ghost story via some truly original means – from the point of view of a loyal Nova Scotia Duck Tolling Retriever named Indy, who suddenly finds himself trying to keep his master safe from the dark, sludgy forces that lurk within an old, dark house. Gritty live action remake of Courage The Cowardly Dog, or genuine horror masterpiece – or both? Grab your leash, Boy, we’re going walkies.
Todd is a young man who is rapidly succumbing to a degenerative lung disease who chooses, against the wishes of his sister Vera, to ditch the big city in favour of the rustic charms of their late grandfather’s old rural home in the country. Flanked by his absurdly loving dog, Indy, Todd soon gets the place shipshape although it does seem to be a weird choice to make as his grandfather died within that very house due to a very similar sickness. Still, Todd seems content enough, taking his beloved pup for walks and watching the collection of old, campy, black and white horror movies his grandfather had amassed; however, while Todd is getting on with his illness, Indy’s superior dog senses have picked up that there’s something very wrong about this house and the surrounding area.
As Indy snuffles around the house, a growing unease building within the canine. What is that dark shadow that keeps appearing round the house? Why is Indy having nightmares where he’s playing the part of the grandfather’s missing dog, Bandit? And what are these visions trying to tell him about a muddy apparition that’s not only making his master sicker, but seemingly wants to claim him for some horrific purpose.
As Indy watches over his master, Todd’s personality starts to change the sicker he gets until he himself proves to be just as big a threat to the dog as the ghostly mud-man is. Can the faithful hound stick by his master long enough to thwart the evil machinations of a cancerous spirit, or will the devout doggo join his owner in the mire of some unimaginable hell that pulses from a cave under the house?
In many ways, Good Boy is similar in spirit to that other, experimental, Shudder feature, In A Violent Nature, that saw an standard horror trope told entirely from the point of view from a trudging, Jason-esque, serial killer. The switch here is that this time we get a classic, stripped back ghost movie that’s told entirely from the POV of one of the most adorable fucking canine actors you’ve ever laid eyes on and the result is pretty impressive from a filmmaking point of view. For a start, while Indy (the dog’s name both in real like and the movie) has quite possibly one of the most expressive faces I’ve seen in an animal actor, he’s still a dog and obviously cannot convey things via speech or human body language. Also, the filmmakers have deliberately and admirably hamstrung themselves further by not copping out with a famous actor giving thoughts to the dog via an anthropomorphic voice over, or making the dog human-smart like a Lassie or the Littlest Hobo. Everything we see and experience is seen through Indy’s little peepers and heard via his twitching years and that extends as far as having the camera constantly being placed at ground level to the point that the minimalist human cast is rarely seen from above the chest.
With No real narrative cheats to fall back on, Good Boy is utterly dependant on the charisma of its butt-sniffing star and the storytelling acumen of its director and while the limitations of both the production and the skills of Indy and Leonberg are both roundly tested at times, both director and the director’s dog (bloody nepotism), both impressively rise to the occasion. Leonberg wisely keeps things simple, delivering to-the-point storytelling that neatly makes the decision to have Indy’s owner stuggling with a serious illness that links in to the mysterious force that is causing/exacerbating/a metaphor for what’s killing him.
Similarly, the breadcrumbs to what’s happening are left here and there thanks to video footage of a cameoing Larry Fessenden as grandpa that reveals he went through a similar. While this ensures that there is an actual plot and we’re not just spending a solid 73 minutes staring at a dog looking utterly terrified, a lot of the movies proves to be just that and if you’re not willing to be entranced at the sheer chutzpah and skill it took to get this made – or like the demonic mud-ghost, you’re clearly more of a cat person – you may find the adventures of Indy to be a little too dry for your tastes. There’s long periods without dialogue that requires you to fully consentrate and invest yourself in what’s happening (which, to be fair, is something you should be doing with every film) and the subtle nature of the piece may irritate those used to more conventional fear flicks. However, to do so is to ignore that the film is something of a minor miracle that reminds you how innovative and primal cinema can be.
If for some reason you aren’t utterly bewitched by Indy’s big soulful eyes as he’s menaced by nightmares, shadows and truly alarming figure seemingly comprised of muck and corruption, then something may be genuinely off about you. That general anxiousness that comes from people hoping that similarly adorable puppos don’t meet a horrible fate in other movies is skillfully weaponized here and the chips are down, Indy’s four-legged thespianing may actually stand tall as one of the greatest animal performances in cinema history.
The photography is nice and crisp; the scares are basic but efficient and the movie manages to eek out some scenes of peril to break up the atmospheric stretches of a dog looking incredibly nervous at suspicious shadows. However, the true star is obviously and undoubtedly Indy himself, who manages to hold the screen with as much charisma and confidence as many of the human actors who charge a fee far more expansive than some dog treats and a occasional time on the sofa. In a year utterly crammed with innovative horror, Indy’s exploits may be the most conceptually intriguing of the lot and while some may dislike the experimental nature of the flick, Good Boy is good, boy.
🌟🌟🌟🌟
We Have Issues 