I approach horror films skeptically and cautiously because moral and ethical considerations preclude my consuming entertainment that glorifies evil or gratuitous violence. Many classic or traditional horror films don’t appeal to me for those reasons. However, films that authentically explore the supernatural, present a rigorous and fair conflict between good and evil, and portray strong character and plot development engage my imagination. The premise of Good Boy piqued my curiosity because seeing a film’s frightening events through a dog’s keenly aware senses seemed novel in the horror genre, and the film also appeared to avoid content that I would consider offensive. I purchased a ticket and saw Good Boy at Broadway Centre Cinemas Thursday night, and I really enjoyed it, although its actual plot development and potential meaning differ from what I expected.
Todd (Shane Jensen) is gravely ill with an incurable lung condition that causes him to cough up blood. He decides to leave behind his life in New York City and move to his late grandfather’s (Larry Fessenden) uninhabited house in the woods. His dog Indy is his only companion, compounding how solitary and remote Todd’s decision is. (Director Ben Leonberg and producer Kari Fischer’s real-life dog Indy takes the part in the film.) Todd’s sister Vera (Arielle Friedman) worries about Todd’s isolation at the rural house, and she expresses concern that the house is haunted, suspecting that contributed to their grandfather’s death and the disappearance of their grandfather’s dog Bandit. Todd is undeterred, however, often ignoring his sister’s phone calls, and he pushes through terrible weather, alone with Indy, to get to his destination. Indy immediately perceives a threatening presence in and around the house, showing itself as a dark figure or in shadowy impressions. The presence turns more menacing as Todd’s illness becomes more serious and his behavior more unstable. Indy works diligently to warn and save Todd from the threat that encroaches on the house, putting himself in danger to do so.
Director Ben Leonberg establishes tension and dread in the very first frame of the film. He doesn’t give the audience the luxury of slowly simmering, methodical rising action. He opts instead for placing the audience in media res: we simultaneously learn that Todd is sick, he is avoiding his sister, and Indy is nervous and vigilant. Leonberg successfully keeps the audience off balance and on edge for the rest of the film. He sustains the suspense with intentional camera angles, perfectly placed light in dim or dark spaces, and slightly blurry shots that keep you guessing about what you’re actually looking at. He accompanies his visual artistry with unsettling atmospheric music, that at times resembles a heartbeat, but that always stirs anticipation for what lies a few steps ahead.
My friend Phaedra had seen Good Boy before I did, and she advised me to consider that the film is open to metaphorical as well as literal interpretations. (You can read her review here.) With that in mind, a metaphorical interpretation began to take shape for me midway through the film. Viewers can regard the ominous occurrences that terrorize Indy as supernatural or paranormal manifestations in line with traditional horror films. However, Todd’s worsening health condition suggests that he is facing demons more natural and earth-bound: his genetics, generational curses, his illness, and his mortality. Frightening phenomena such as lights turning off or disappearing, candles flickering out, television screens turning to static, a generator succumbing to the rain and fizzling all feed the idea that Todd is confronting his fate. Indy smells strange smells, hears troubling noises, glimpses specters of Todd’s grandfather and Bandit, and wrestles with a dark figure that tugs him forward, yet these are less about a sinister haunting having overtaken the house and more representative of Todd’s actual condition. As such, Good Boy is a beautiful memento mori — art that reminds us of the inevitability of death. It is simultaneously tragic and tender, a perfect piece for the season of All Hallows.
Good Boy is rated PG-13 for terror, bloody images, and brief strong language. While appropriately suspenseful and intriguing, it is relatively mild in terms of content that would shock or offend. Most viewers will find it to be worthwhile and meaningful. I chose to see Good Boy at Broadway Centre Cinemas in order to support Salt Lake City’s independent, arthouse movie theater. Click here for their listings. It is also showing at Cinemark and Megaplex theaters.
The Good Life 