The Power of the Dog

Often times, a Western is part of an age-old genre that has mostly been forgotten by the majority of casual moviegoers and only occasionally replicated within current media from people trying to either re-try a style for a film, or as a means of dissecting the flaws with the culture surrounding the mindset of cowboys portrayed in said films. The latter is usually the most done in the modern era and is arguably the most entertaining way to watch a western as it takes a relatively formulaic genre with repetitive tropes and blank characters and brings it into cold hard reality and shows the problems with its presentation, as great directors like Clint Eastwood and the Coen Brothers have done in films previous. But one that has done it in not only a fantastically tight way, but also in a fantastically new way, is New Zealand director, Jane Campion, in the 2021 psychological drama, The Power of the Dog. Set in 1920s Montana, wealthy ranch-owner brothers Phil (played by Benedict Cumberbatch) and George (played by Jesse Plemons) feel like they are constantly at odds with each other despite not physically showing it. Phil proves to be a cruel, bitter twisted man fully dedicated to his ranch lifestyle and looks down on everyone around him, whereas George’s polite and good heart leads him to fall in love and eventually wed with widowed inn owner Rose (played by Kirsten Dunst). Bringing her and her teenage son Peter (played by Kodi Smit-McPhee) to the ranch, Phil enjoys tormenting Rose and constantly mocking Peter for his effeminate nature, yet this scorn for the boy eventually forms into a strange obsession as he slowly starts to mold him into how to be a proper ‘’man’’ by his standards, while following in the steps of his past ranch hero, Bronco Henry. With Rose descending into a drunken waste, and Peter starting to enjoy the cold reality of being a ranch hand, it becomes a question of who is the most broken person on this isolated ranch. Based on the 1967 novel written by Thomas Savage, The Power of the Dog was considered one of the best movies of the year by critics and received twelve nominations at the Academy Awards (winning four including Best Director)

The movie from the beginning looked like it was going to be a sure-fire success considering how effective its been for critics and the Academy, but it wasn’t a movie that was treated as favorably from casual audience members, who often times found it dull and uninteresting. This makes sense not only because the original book was not well received to begin with and grew a cult following afterwards, but it is also a movie that probably won’t connect with people who aren’t interested in dissecting a film and just wanting to look at something surface level. There’s no action, no main force to defeat, there isn’t even that much of a main villain or a lot of meat to the plot, but rather this is a psychological drama that talks about multiple different themes that are impartial to those within the Western genre and culture (especially with the early 20^th century). Topics like love, grief, sexual repression, toxic masculinity and how much a person’s environment and influence can shape those is present in a brutally honest manner without going overly gruesome or exploitative. Instead, this movie is slow, methodical, uneasy, and deliberate in wearing down its audience by showing the dark unkempt side of everybody in this ranch house, to the point where it becomes a little unsure of who is really the most sick and disturbed. The movie is expertly directed by Campion, who manages to construct a limited plot with such precise visual cues, subtle acting, expansive landscapes, and distinct music cues that it’s a wildly engaging sit to watch through and experience as the madness keeps unfolding. What could very easily be boring and lacking in weight is instead a tightly woven deconstruction of what’s wrong with the culture of ranching, how it can cloud the mind and taint what should be pure into something decrepit, and how desperate people become to make sure they aren’t the ones who are in the wrong despite their actions. Probably the one real flaw with the pacing and the story as a whole is the ending. While it’s a conclusion that feels fitting and works nice enough, it isn’t one that is unexpected or even done in a very ceremonious way, it is presented rather plainly and without much sharp unease like the rest of the film had. If a viewer isn’t getting into the film, the ending won’t sway anyone.

A movie like this is filled with characters that all have a certain dangerous side to them that either makes them mysterious, tragic, awful or all of the above. Not only does it set the mood perfectly to make sure that’s its never truly safe and secure in any place in this film, but through the great writing and incredible acting, everybody is so interesting to watch that it keeps the audience entertained just through how these roles are portrayed. Benedict Cumberbatch plays the main character with such a devilish nature that he is truly lacking in any redeeming qualities in the best way possible; he is the true seed of everything wrong with the environment and portrays this through his treatment of his brother and his new family, yet Cumberbatch’s brilliant facial expression and the visual storytelling mapping out a clear narrative of how and who shaped him into what he was, makes him endlessly fascinating to watch without feeling any sense of malice or brutal hatred despite how much he deserves it. A lead role is often helped out by its support and the remaining cast of characters are also very interesting, and due to the limited amount of them (only four), it gives each more time to shine and more time to flesh out identities. Jesse Plemons as his brother acts as a nice more sociable version of him with a sense of right and wrong while also carrying his own form of repression, Kodi Smit-McPhee brings a lot more to the standard ‘’out-of-his-element boy’’ than would be expected in a Western with his own form of hidden darkness and strange want to be more than what he is, and Kirsten Dunst as a newly wed wife trying to survive the torment exhibited by her new brother-in-law is very well done, expressing great innocent vulnerability and hidden turmoil and bringing a role that could so easily be done blandly and making it truly memorable and sympathetic thanks to Dunst’s fantastic acting.

While the usual portrayal for a Western prides itself in being grand, epic, large in presence and allowing the openness to feel inviting, here the movie is smaller, reserved, claustrophobic by nature and makes even larger fields and mountainsides feel empty and hollow. The color palette for the movie is filled with rusty colors and harsh lighting, with a production design by Grant Major making everything feel unclean and not well looked after, and the brilliant cinematography by Ari Wegner makes New Zealand feel as expansive and lush as it is deathly and lacking life. She captures some great establishing shots of the environment while getting some truly claustrophobic shots in the house, which creates a completely different feeling. No shot feels poorly handled, over done or out of place, it all adds to the atmosphere, story and character of this film and it makes even the most gruesome (and suggestive stuff) look expensive and well shot. The music by Jonny Greenwood is also fantastic; the motifs used in this film to signify characters and emotions is a brilliant way of establishing mental states without having to say it flat out. The violins and strings of the ranch are repetitive, droning, lacking melody and mainly adding to the uncomfortable and sorrowful atmosphere, whereas the piano is often well-versed, lively, filled with melody and often drawn out into impressive verses, but even both instruments can be switched to add a new feel of unease on the audience, it’s a wonderfully handled score.

The Power of the Dog feels like one of the best crafted movies of 2021 and definitely deserves all the praises that have been thrown at it from critics and from the Academy. It doesn’t shy away from being brutal and uncomfortable, but it also isn’t ugly or bland looking, it matches beautiful visuals and sound with good slow pacing, wonderful acting and tight visual storytelling to make for a truly engaging experience that could have you watching it again and again to see if things make more sense another time around. This film isn’t going to be for everybody however, it feels like a film that won’t register with those that don’t like to analysis and don’t like to look at movies deeper than what it gives off and even then, it could just have aspects that don’t click with them, so it is totally up to the individual and nobody would be wrong if they said this wasn’t the movie for them. But from some perspective, Jane Campion showed the world that she was a director worth keeping a look out for the next time around.