A dog lies sleeping the sleep of the righteous before being awoken by …something. It could be the mobile phone buzzing away on the arm of the chair – or it could be something far more ominous. Todd, the human at Indy’s side, is unconscious and unresponsive. The room seems odd, too – there’s weird interference with the TV, the lights flicker. Thankfully, the caller, Vera (Todd’s sister) comes in just in time to revive Todd, but as we gradually gather what’s been going on here, we discover that Todd has been, and is, seriously ill.
Next, we see man and dog travelling out in the boonies (much to Vera’s horror, given Todd’s condition), where Todd plans to take up residence in his grandfather’s old house, which has been bequeathed to him. Talk about pathetic fallacy: the gloomy skies and torrential rain don’t exactly scream good tidings, and the dismal, cluttered space they arrive into doesn’t, either. Todd has a lot going on, but all he notices about the new place is that it’s unkempt; Indy, however, whom we’ve already seen is quite a sensitive dog, is soon responding to things unperceived by his best friend. Indy wouldn’t know this, but Vera agrees with him; on the phone, we hear her declare to Todd that the house is “haunted”. So we have a familiar horror film idea – a haunted house, a potentially hexed family line (Todd walks Indy through a nearby burial ground which is choc-full of his gone-too-soon relatives) – only, here, it’s unfolding through Indy’s perspective. It’s Indy who is faced with the biggest share of supernatural phenomena, and this seems to worsen in line with Todd’s rapidly worsening condition. Can Indy protect his beloved best friend from the sinister forces encroaching on this place?
One of the biggest heart-wrenchers in Good Boy is being made to believe that this beautiful dog is afraid and at risk; coming in a close second is understanding that Todd has run out of road, and is reduced to begging to be a medical test subject, or trying folk medicine cures, things which are clearly not going to be up to the (nameless, but dreadfully guessable) condition he has. Pain and desperation makes Todd mean at times, too, which combines both of the film’s most heart-wrenching elements into one; all Indy wants to do is to protect Todd, but he’s just a dog – he can’t interpret what’s going on here, and god knows he can’t face down Todd’s diagnosis. Indy is actually director Ben Leonberg’s own dog, so he’s able to bring in his old video footage of Indy as a puppy – adorable, and genuinely moving, given the film’s storyline. It’s also probably worth saying that if you hate any kind of animal peril, even suggested animal peril, then go careful with this film. I had to watch all the way to the end of the credits to be sure I knew what had happened and could cope with it.
Good Boy‘s choice of ‘dog’s eye view’ for many of its scenes is an engaging one, though we’re never quite kept on Indy’s wavelength, given that we can read text messages, understand the dialogue and infer other elements of the plot, although some of the dialogue is slightly muffled because we always stay with the dog, who often wanders off or goes to investigate something, meaning it’s occasionally a stretch to hear what’s being said. But, steadily, the film pieces together enough of its backstory to lend weight to the ongoing action and substance to the threat at the house, through making good use of VHS video diaries (of course, it’s an indie horror) where grandpa is briefly played by Larry Fessenden (ditto). The set and location are both solid, full of impenetrable darkness which often tricks the eye, or shots cluttered with the detritus of a life passed, which also often threaten to take on human faces and forms. This effect is possibly exaggerated in Good Boy, given that this is a film almost devoid of human faces; this, again, stems from the dog’s eye view motif, so we spend most of the film at not far off ground level, seeing more of people’s feet than faces. Perhaps this brings on a touch of pareidolia. It also almost certainly calls to mind some other things. from cartoons to Skinamarink (2022), though unlike Skinamarink, Leonberg knows when to call time: Good Boy comes in at an economical seventy minutes, which works.
That this film took years to make is testament to how hard Leonberg worked to get it right, and of course to treat his canine star and buddy fairly. He does this so well that it’s hard not to commend the film for being well acted; of course what we mean is well directed. Good Boy is a quietly creepy tale with a genuinely involving and emotionally affecting central premise, and it’s that which really sets it apart from similar films, particularly by the end. Its moments of vulnerability and mystery are very well-handled indeed.
Good Boy is available now to watch on Shudder.