“Rescued from a mental sword; immediately a dog, my unit.” The name of Jane Campion’s new film is taken from the English translation of chapter 22 of the Book of Psalms. The question is who or what is that dangerous dog to be defended against. From the Weissover in the opening to the resounding ending, the film scatters hints of a different kind of cinema, one that only really becomes clear to us in the last few minutes.
It is a film about the tragedy of a man who chose to deny himself and imprison his soul in the armor of aggressive masculinity, while harming others and himself. Although it is based on a book by Thomas Savage that was published in 1967 and received renewed attention in the current century, it is most appropriate that it came to the screen through the prism of a director, who examines the toxic masculinity (in the fullest sense of the word) in the male film genre.
“The Power of the Dog” joins a growing number of films from recent years, including Chloe’s Rider “and” Wonderful Day “by Lin Ramsey, in which filmmakers infiltrate classic male territories and crumble them from within. Some fools in “The Power of a Dog” evoke mythological images from the westerns of the genre’s father John Ford (like the look at the protagonist / villain from the inside out), and our acquaintance with them adds a layer of meaning to them. This is Campion’s first film since “Bright Star” in 2009 (in between she created the excellent series “The Edge of the Lake” for television), and she returns to the cinema with a work that reminds us what a great creator she is. Most people will probably watch the movie on Netflix, where it will arrive on December 1, but it is undoubtedly intended for viewing on the big screen.
Kirsten Dunst in “The Power of the Dog” (Photo: PR)
In 1925 Montana the brothers George (Jesse Flemons) and Phil (Benedict Cumberbatch) live together in a large, secluded house, raising a huge herd of cows. Their parents moved to a city where life is more comfortable. The two brothers, who used to sleep in the same room, could not have been more different from each other. George is calm, simple and kind-hearted. An elephant is a rude bully, who tends to humiliate anyone who seems less masculine to him, including his heavy-bodied brother who accepts the insults in silence.
Phil has a degree from Yale University, and the poor language he speaks, while emphasizing each syllable, seems to be something he has adopted to complete the rooted image he has created for himself. When Phil insults Peter (Cody Smith-McPhee), the tender son of the widow Rose (Kirsten Dunst) who created paper flowers for the tables in her guest house, George goes to comfort her and this leads to the wedding. Peter goes to study medicine in college, Rose moves into the nursing home, and the particular balance that was there before is upset.
A lost and tortured man. Benedict Cumberbatch in “The Power of the Dog” (Photo: PR)
George buys Rose a grand piano whose scene is reminiscent of a similar event in “The Piano,” Campion’s most famous film. That wondrous film, too, dealt with types of masculinity and a clash between savagery and culture, but it had a tenderness and passion that is stubbornly denied here. When Rose tries to play the piano, mostly to please George, Phil teases her with his banjo – a reference turned into “men in a trap” – and Rose falls apart.
Only when he was alone with himself and his memories of the late Bronco Henry, who had taught him how to be a man, was Phil revealed to us as a lost and tortured man. Even the filth on his body, which he cultivates defiantly against cultural society, he secretly washes in the water of a kind of hidden stream. During a break from school, when Peter comes to visit his mother, the center of the drama moves towards the relationship between the difficult man and the skinny boy, who looks ridiculous with an oversized hat on his head.
Hides more than he discovers. Benedict Cumberbatch in “The Power of the Dog” (Photo: PR)
“The Power of the Dog” was filmed in New Zealand, and on the camera of Ari Wagner (who will surely win an Oscar nomination, as well as the film, director and actors) the brown hills look alive and sensual, like cows and horses, while humans seal themselves. Johnny Greenwood composed the stern, non-melodic soundtrack, which relied heavily on sporadic strings. Notice when the piano sounds return to the soundtrack – this is an indication of a specific meaning to the drama that drives the film.
The British Cumberbatch managed to put on the appearance of a rough cowboy, whose skilled hands castrated bulls, braided ropes and pierced the banjo, but in his eyes lay a deep pain. His visual coupling with 24-year-old Smith-McPhee, who looks like a grown boy who has not yet fully formed, is explosive. Dunst excels as the gentle woman who previously made a living as a pianist accompanying silent films and ran a guest house, and now hides in her own home. And Flemons, her partner in life as well, contributes another layered performance that establishes his status as one of the most prominent supporting actors in American cinema. It’s both an epic and a monastic film, whose power lies in the fact that it hides more than it reveals. It requires active viewing from us, and it leaves a lasting echo.
★★★★ ✯ 4.5 stars
The Power of the Dog Directed by: Jane Campion. With Benedict Cumberbatch, Kirsten Dunst, Cody Smith-McPhee, Jesse Flemons. USA / New Zealand 2021, 126 min