The Power of the Dog Review: Jane Campions Western is the best film of 2021

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The Power of the Dog Review: Jane Campions Western is the best film of 2021

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This rating of The power of the dog was originally released in conjunction with the film’s premiere at the 2021 Toronto International Film Festival. It was updated for the movie’s November theatrical release and its December 1st release on Netflix.

There’s a scene in Jane Campion’s impressive, arresting western The power of the dog – her first film in 12 years after going on television with television Up on the lake – that tempts the viewer like the teasing tips of prairie grass. The hard-driving rancher Phil Burbank (Benedict Cumberbatch) sits at the head of a long table, surrounded by his cowboy colleagues, in the picturesque setting of a house run by Rose Gordon (Kirsten Dunst). His clean-shaven, quiet brother and business partner George (Jesse Plemons) watches in horror as Phil rebukes a sensitive waiter, Rose’s son Peter (Kodi Smit-McPhee), for the handcrafted paper flowers he made as table decorations.

Adapted by Campion from Thomas Savage’s novel of the same name, The power of the dog takes place in 1925 Montana. At first glance, the haunted western involves Phil and George, radically different brothers who live on a ranch aesthetically indebted to Terrence Malicks Days of heaven, and the way Rose gets in between. But the deliberately fast-paced film aims beyond its familiar setup towards a far more poignant, complex goal. It is an immense portrait of psychological torture and toxic masculinity, embedded in an imposing mountain landscape that captures its characters.

The power of the dog is a scary movie. Cinematographer Ari Wegner (Lady Macbeth, Zola) relies on long lenses to capture the rolling hills in as much detail as the characters in the foreground for impressive, philosophical compositions. And the gorgeous score by Jonny Greenwood is downright scary. The events take place in a remote part of Montana, where the west is still a rugged mythology. Cars are common in the cities, but not here. Judges and lawyers are never seen. All that matters out here is the men’s long hours, the homosexual bonds they share, and what they can teach one another about life, women, and cattle.

Benedict Cumberbatch and Jesse Plemons on horses in The Power of the Dog

Photo: TIFF

Phil and George’s relationship once thrived on these issues, especially when their good buddy Bronco Henry was alive. Phil practically adored the man and often takes time to praise him 20 years after his death. But even though Phil and George still share their nursery, they are drifting apart. George draws himself to Rose, another vulnerable, outcast soul. In a touching scene to calm a group of exuberant drunk townspeople, he becomes a waiter for Rose, knowing that his presence as the richest man in town will end their disturbance. It is one of many possibilities The power of the dog is aware of the power dynamic.

Plemons and Dunst are a real pair, and their innate sensitivity for one another helps create a quick pairing that often appeals to the sweetest of tones. Their complementary acting styles are also helpful. Both feature subtle twists and turns, with Haze as a woman plagued by a crippling fear of moving up to another social class and feeling like she’s not enough, and Plemons as a lonely, tactful rancher who doesn’t quite get along with his arrogant brother home is . After a piano recital goes wrong when George urges Rose to perform for Montana’s governor, it’s easy to tell that both characters fall by the wayside instead of Phil. But Campion somehow keeps their presence relevant even when they’re not on screen.

Cumberbatch played the best performance of his career as Phil, and those are boots only he could wear. Phil has a college education, is able to refer to the myth of Romulus and Remus, but finds great comfort among down-to-earth men on a rough ranch. Between Cumberbatch’s angular physique and his intellectual star personality, he unites two apparently different ideas of a man of the early 20th century. This rare combination enables him to inflict an intellectual meanness on Rose. In one scene, for example, he takes advantage of Rose’s confident piano playing by showing off his virtuoso banjo skills. His acoustic calling card, an eerie whistled melody, is always heard when he wants to let Rose know that she is being watched. He creates a toxic environment for them with worrying consequences.

Phil shows Rose’s son Peter angrily in a different way. It’s a physical meanness to intimidate a boy he thinks is a dandy. Peter is the big needle sticking out of the hay: he wears white sneakers, a white shirt, black trousers and a cowboy hat that is too big. He studies a doctor and can subconsciously frighten servants like Lola (Thomasin McKenzie), especially if he is caught dissecting a rabbit.

In The Power of the Dog, Kodi Smit-McPhee sews red thread through a white cloth in a darkened room

Photo: TIFF

The relationship between Peter and Phil is complicated, but clearly contradicting itself. Peter despises Phil for the way he treats Rose. He wants to protect her, but doesn’t have the means to do so. In their unsteady relationship The power of the dog teeters: Will it remain a film about a woman who separates two brothers, or will it be something else? Instead of either of these things, it takes on an unexpected tenor that is still relentless. A surreal spike forms over this dusty landscape as Peter and Phil bond, and the source of emotion beneath their floor becomes more complex, even mysterious.

In . no seismic events occur The power of the dog. There are no shootings or cattle rushes. Its meditative quality makes its abrupt end appear even more sudden. But this is one of those films that is worth re-watching, and Campion is one of those directors who rewards careful scrutiny. At second glance, the connective tissue around the tendons of the narrative not only becomes visible, but also gains a muscular meaning, a robustness that makes the film’s one major revelation even more invigorating. The power of the dog Not only does it mark Campion’s return – it is the best film of 2021 so far. The themes of isolation and poisonous masculinity in this psychological western are an increasingly narrow lasso of seemingly harmless events that, on closer inspection, import more horror and meaning and turn the viewer into an unforgettable one Draw a spell.

The power of the dog is now streaming on Netflix.

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