Jay Rohr
Good Boy isn’t barking up the wrong tree. Although it’s fair to wonder if its novel gimmick can carry a whole movie, this fright flick is surprisingly impactful. In addition, a modest runtime keeps the horror show from ever overstaying its welcome. What results is a shockingly heart squeezing story full of delightful dread.
The premise of this paranormal picture is pretty familiar territory. Todd, played by Shane Jensen (Four), returns to the haunted home of his grandfather. While there, supernatural events begin to unfold.
If that there were all Good Boy had to offer, it would be a matter of been there, seen that to a degree dulling any chance of enjoying the movie. What makes this scary story stand out is how it doesn’t focus on Todd. Rather, the main protagonist is his dog, Indy.
The adorable Novia Scotia Duck Tolling retriever will capture the attention of audiences from the first to the last shot. It’s not just that the dog is cute to a degree that even a cat person like myself wants to hug him forever; the canine actually does a solid job acting. Of course, this is largely due to some smart cinematic choices by director Ben Leonberg.
Besides using his own dog for the main role, the filmmaker employs a wonderful assortment of camera angles, lighting, and focus tricks to construct a feel throughout the film. Whether the vibe is meant to be eerie or cuddly, the camera always captures the right atmosphere. Meanwhile, the way visuals are composed, camera angles for instance, never let the audience forget that Indy is the central character. Viewers are rarely ever taken away from the dog’s eye level.
Putting them in the protagonist’s paws is one thing, getting folks to feel the same is another. Thankfully, Good Boy does what all great horror stories do by forging an emotional core audiences can connect to. Granted, most people are probably going to instantly adore this cute canine because, well, people love dogs. But that attitude belies how expertly the film paints the bond between Todd and Indy.
In addition to being a scary movie, Good Boy is a tale of loyalty between best friends. Consider me guilty of anthropomorphizing, but there’s a real sense of concern displayed by Indy. Something is dreadfully wrong, and the poor pooch can barely convey, let alone do anything about the paranormal presence lurking in the shadows. And when he whimpers in terror — anyone not inspired to go straight John Wick is dead inside.
That helplessness translates to a tangible tension throughout the film. Along the way the filmmakers know when to crank things up a notch. Indy will stare into an empty corner or pocket of shadows as animals are often inclined to do, and just when it seems like nothing is there, some flickering hint of a nightmare flashes into view. There’s something about seeing a nervous dog staring down dark steps, switching to the pupper’s p.o.v., then waiting anxiously for what emerges.
The fact that there isn’t always something, at least not anything apparent, keeps the suspense high. There’s never any guarantee which instances will turn out tame or feature some fright. Granted, this gimmick can get a little repetitive, but the brief runtime of 73 minutes means Good Boy doesn’t waste much. The film is always moving towards something sinister.
As far as Todd’s storyline, Good Boy counts on a certain amount of audience familiarity. Viewers are clearly expected to be aware of horror tropes prior to seeing this picture. That helps cut down on any need for expositional dialogue. However, attentive audiences should be able to glean sufficient details thanks to conversations with Todd’s sister, some overt interactions with others, and VHS videos.
Good Boy develops chunks of its backstory by having Todd and Indy watching old home movies. Several of these feature the grandfather played by Larry Fessenden (Killers of the Flower Moon). The implications of these tapes is pretty direct, but they do more than deliver indirect details.
The old tube tv these muddy images get viewed on casts a murky glow over the room. It’s a wonderful example of how Ben Leonberg doesn’t waste any elements. Everything contributes to the look and palpable feel of the film. Good Boy is refreshingly visually compelling. It’s colorful, murky, and dark in all the right ways.
I’ve already gotten several requests from folks to let them know the fate of the dog. Nowadays there’s a growing group of people who can’t or won’t watch any animal cruelty. That’s what sites like Does the Dog Die? are for, providing audiences with such trigger warnings. As far as Good Boy, I don’t want to spoil the movie. Suffice it to say, I nearly cried at the heartbreaking conclusion.
That said, if you should choose to learn in advance, I don’t think knowing will lessen the emotional impact of the movie. As constructed as it may be, Indy does a marvelous job of conveying the feelings the filmmakers want expressed. The dog is loving, scared, and protective. Viewers will gasp in terror when he’s in danger then cheer as he escapes paranormal peril. Good Boy is a rollercoaster ride.
In a peculiar way, it reminded me of the 80s era of animated and dark fantasy films. There’s a young adult horror quality to the movie that shares the fever dream madness of those pictures. Don Bluth animated gems that didn’t care if they traumatized children. The gimmicky nature of telling this story from the dog’s perspective almost feels like a trick designed to dupe audiences into lowering their guard. And that’s exactly when Good Boy bites.
This is a solid fright flick, perhaps not the scariest, but satisfyingly spooky all the same. It’s also ideal for anyone disinclined to gore, not to mention folks who aren’t hardened horror veterans. Plus, Indy rightfully deserves the Howl of Fame awarded at SXSW. Make Good Boy a part of your Halloween viewing experience.
