Movie Reviews

Black Dog: Chinese director Guan Hu makes Cannes debut

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2.5/5 stars

Black Dog begins with all the trappings of a revenge Western. Set in a godforsaken town where bad guys roam around with impunity, it revolves around a reticent man returning home after a decade-long absence to confront his sworn enemies.

It also seems to have everything in place for a political allegory. Juxtaposing images of crumbling tenements with incessant radio news bulletins about the Beijing Olympics, the story, set in 2008, could offer commentary about the clash of reality and dreams in 21st century China.

As it turns out, Guan Hu’s film is neither. From the big bang of its first half-hour, Black Dog is slowly reduced to a whimper, as what was set up to be a hard-boiled genre film turns into a sentimental relationship drama about a wayward man’s attempt to connect with his family, friends, foes and his new four-legged buddy.

Having transformed himself from a Sixth Generation indie filmmaker to a master of battle-heavy blockbusters like The Eight Hundred and The Sacrifice, Guan begins Black Dog with what is arguably the most stunning set piece in mainland Chinese cinema so far this year.
Somewhere amid the tumbleweed-filled steppes of northwest China, hundreds of dogs run down a mountain towards a remote road, causing a travelling bus to flip over. Among those who crawl from the debris is Lang (Eddie Peng Yu-yan), a mysterious, taciturn ex-convict returning home after a decade away.

Settling into his long-abandoned home, his past returns to haunt him in the form of the local butcher, who accused Lang of having caused his nephew’s death.

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A still from Black Dog.

But the bad guy in town is Yao (Jia Zhangke), the chain-smoking leader of a bunch of “dog management officers” who capture strays and steal pets in order to resell them elsewhere for a profit.

Lang joins Yao to earn some hard cash, only to find his humanity flickering back to life when he forms a bond with a raging, rabies-stricken hound. This inspires him to reconcile with his adversaries, his ailing zoo-master father and his younger self.

While there’s nothing wrong with Guan’s decision to steer a fatalistic tale towards a happy ending, the change of tone does Peng few favours, as he is forced to reprise the kind of gawky man-child role he has been typecast in for just too long.

A still from Black Dog, set in the steppes of northwest China.

Meanwhile, the flood of positive energy in the second half of the film renders its remarkable set design evoking doom and gloom irrelevant. The same can be said even of apparently important characters: Dong Liya’s circus acrobat, for example, is left with nothing to do as the prospect of forming a relationship with Lang evaporates.

The canines are cute, though – and for some, perhaps, that is Black Dog’s main draw.

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