[REVIEW] Good Boy
Boy, oh, boy—what a ride. From start to finish, Viljar Bøe’s Good Boy took me for a walk through a very, very strange park. The story opens with Christian, a young heir who lives alone, as he prepares a meal for him and his dog, Frank, but, well, there’s something really off about the dog. Frank is human.
Going into this, I was fully expecting an exploration into the kink world of puppy play—Fifty Shades of Grey animal-style—mainstream enough, right? But instead, Frank crawls out slowly to eat from behind a wall, revealing himself in a full-on dog suit much along the lines of the animal suit in The Shining’s infamous you-know-what scene. It’s entirely unsexual, and it immediately upends any expectations of what’s to come.
Which is romance. Christian hits it off with a psychology student named Sigrid after meeting her through Tinder. Their date goes well, and he invites her back to his house. It’s perfect until Frank wakes up his owner the next morning just as any dog would. It puts Sigrid off, naturally, but lucky for Christian, Sigrid has a roommate that reminds her of Christian’s wealth and encourages her to be less judgmental. And she does. We all have our own oddities, don’t we? Especially when money is involved—wealth breeds boredom and boredom breeds particular appetites. Sigrid returns and apologizes for her initial reservations about Frank.
Christian explains that Frank is a childhood friend, whose troubled past has led him to choosing this lifestyle. Christian’s wealth has made him lonely, and Frank has offered a steady source of companionship. And with how dedicated Frank is to his performance (thanks to the actor behind Frank’s masterful portrayal of pups—I swear I kept finding myself reminded of my own dogs), there’s no question Frank is satisfied with the arrangement. Why disrupt their strange symbiosis for society’s standards? It makes you think.
This scene, and what’s to come, drive home one of the film’s main themes. There is so much we’re willing to write off or ignore in the pursuit of what we want—be it love, acceptance, or understanding. Red flags turn into tiny, little lady bugs when looking down the barrel of something we deeply desire. And that’s just what happens for Sigrid. A cabin trip comes quickly for the couple, and Frank joins along. Christian insists it’s a phone free weekend, and on one hand, it’s understandable. How much time do we spend attached and absorbed by our various, glowing devices? The lack of distraction makes way for Sigrid to bond with Frank, and they play together as any dog and human would. Again, that’s one of the best parts of the whole film. Frank is so damn convincing.
That is, until he’s not. Suddenly, Frank lifts his mask to deliver a shocking warning—Sigrid must escape. Things continue to go south after Sigrid takes Frank on a walk to discuss how, and it’s revealed that Christian has placed a recording device on Frank. We all know what happens to bad dogs—off to spend some time in the cage—but Christian’s concept of a timeout is different. It’s much more extreme.
Once things went in this direction, my expectations crept up—the director cited The Audition as inspiration for Good Boy, afterall. And sure, torture ensues for Frank, but it’s mild in comparison to what we see in the 1999 Japanese Thriller. Good Boy isn’t less for not pushing the boundaries on this front, but given how the rest of the movie does, it would have been fascinating to see Bøe take it there with torture, too.
All-in-all Good Boy is a crisp hour and sixteen minutes, and it’s enjoyable—bizarre and thought-provoking in all the best ways. Though, with a longer run time, a touch more torture, and more meat on the bones of an otherwise jaw-dropping ending, it’d be even more to bark about.
