If you’re a movie buff with a queasy stomach, then you’re probably aware of the website “Does the Dog Die?” Nowadays, this website serves as a crowdsourced collection of trigger warnings for movies, ranging in everything from domestic violence to fears like ghosts or clowns. But its creation stemmed from an essential truth: no one wants to see a dog die in a movie.
In horror movies in particular, dogs always seem to know something spooky is afoot, but they almost never make it out alive – think “The Conjuring,” or the 2005 “The Amityville Horror” remake. These dogs know that malevolent forces are at work, but they rarely have the ability to do something about it. “Good Boy,” the feature directorial debut from Ben Leonberg, not only imagines a world where the dog doesn’t die, but also one where he tries his best to save his human.
“Good Boy” is a smart pitch for a low budget film – minimal locations, not too many actors, and Leonberg used his own dog, Indy, as the lead. Given the general populace’s love of dogs (as evidenced by an entire website dedicated to how much we don’t want to see them die), it’s also a premise that’s quite hard to mess up. Leonberg capitalizes on all of those factors, creating a movie that, while spare, effectively builds tension and emotion and makes a star out of its leading canine.
“Good Boy” takes place entirely from Indy’s perspective, sometimes literally putting us in his head as he takes in his surroundings. His owner, Todd (Shane Jensen) is sick – terminally ill, it seems – and one day decides to up everything and take himself and Indy to his late grandfather’s remote cabin. But something evil resides within that cabin – something that only Indy can see.
Sickness is a rather good entry point into this story, if only because it’s proof that dogs can sense things that we can’t. When Todd jokingly complains to his sister (Arielle Friedman) that Indy is always all over him, she wonders if Indy’s interest has something to do with Todd’s illness, or a possible tumor. The house itself, then, and the dark entity lurking in its depths, is sickness incarnate. The film thankfully doesn’t harp too much on this metaphor, but it’s good connective tissue to give the audience a further understanding of Indy’s point of view and to explain why he might be so tapped into what’s going on.
“Good Boy,” while not always pretty, is striking in its ability to visualize how a dog might see the world. The world is not less colorful, the way we imagine a dog’s to be, but it is claustrophobic, in a sense, sharper in some ways and duller in others. The light often seems to balloon around Indy’s line of sight, focusing directly on whatever has caught his attention at any given moment. His ears and nose guide him more than anything else, his head always on a swivel.
Leonberg, who co-wrote the screenplay with Alex Cannon, doesn’t give too much screentime to the humans in this story (we don’t even really see Todd’s face until the end of the film), which leaves some ambiguity, particularly at the film’s end, as to what is going on – after all, it’s not like Indy can play detective and go to the library to look through the archives. The sense of claustrophobia that the camera exudes accentuates that confusion, which makes the film’s well-executed jump scares all the more effective. In one scene, Indy finds Todd sleepwalking, banging his head against the doorway to the basement. In another, Todd (or is it Todd?), comatose at the bottom of the stairs, suddenly races up towards Indy on all fours, the pounding of his hands and feet so much louder than it should be. These moments would be disturbing on their own, but distorted as they are from Indy’s perspective, they’re all the more frightening.
No review of “Good Boy” would be complete without mentioning the titular good boy himself. Indy is a Nova Scotia Duck Tolling Retriever – which is to say, he’s a gorgeous boy who knows how to work his angles. Indy’s performance is drawn out of his relationship with Leonberg, who, in some of the film’s best moments, very astutely points out some of the uglier parts of being a pet owner. In one scene, Todd gets home after a long day. Worn out and tired, he just wants to get some rest, but Indy just wants to be near him. After a few rebuffed attempts to get away from Indy, Todd ends up yelling and cursing at him. We’ve all been there. You had a bad day. You lose your temper. And you feel like a giant jerk in the aftermath.
But, like the good boy he is, Indy doesn’t stray far from Todd’s side after he’s unceremoniously kicked off the bed. For as much as “Good Boy” is about subverting the perspectives we usually see in horror movies, it’s also about how unconditional a dog’s love can be. They’ll stay by your side, even in the face of terror.