I’m sure I’m preaching to the choir, but pets are great to have. Not only from the standpoints of love, companionship, and affection, but they also serve as protectors from things that escape the naked eye. How many times have you watched a horror film and wished a particular character didn’t walk down a dark hallway? If they had a dog, they would have warned them in advance. Ben Leonberg’s “Good Boy” takes the anxiousness we feel when going through a haunted house and amplifies it by placing an adorable retriever named Indy as our protagonist.
It turns out to be a well-placed gimmick only accentuated by the committed acting chops of the film’s star player (who is also Leonberg’s dog in real life). Just in facial expressions, sudden jolts of movement, and the camera framing of Wade Grebnoel, “Good Boy” takes its premise as far as it can on the shoulders of one brave pup. The film itself elects for a prolonged creepiness, banking on the hope (the right one) that the audience will want to hold onto Indy for dear life and never let go. It’s coupled by the fact that her owner in the film might not be in the greatest shape to protect him.
When “Good Boy” begins, Todd (Shane Jensen) is impaired and excessively bleeding on his couch while his sister, Vera (Arielle Friedman), tries to get in contact with him. The ever observant Indy catches something lurking in the corner of the room in their small apartment. Is it something feeding on Todd’s life essence? Leoberg and Alex Cannon’s story leaves that open to interpretation. Mainly because this film is told entirely from the standpoint of a retriever, if Indy doesn’t know what’s going on with Todd, neither will the audience.
After seeking medical attention, Todd feels it’s a good idea for him and Indy to get out of the city and go to his late grandfather’s house in a rural part of town. Maybe the great outdoors and fresh air will be just the medicine Todd needs. However, something else is brewing within the dark hallways and long-abandoned rooms. Some sort of malevolent force is hinted at through the few home videos Todd’s grandfather leaves behind. It’s somewhat of an omen that he struggled with his health in the same house up until his death. Yet, Leonberg provides Indy a runway to complete a slight detective story to find out what this thing is before it’s too late.
That might be a tall order for a dog to do, but for the most part, Indy is a consummate pro. As he runs through rooms and secret compartments that Todd can’t quite reach, you can’t help but be just as invested - even if details are scant. There are allusions/visions to what could have happened to Todd’s grandfather’s dog, Bandit, even though it was never found. Will Indy follow in experiencing the same fate? “Good Boy” is banking on you holding onto the fact that it could be a possibility.
The film even goes so far as to give Indy a small emotional arc. Through conventional hearsay, it’s shown that Todd’s medical routes are becoming shorter and shorter. Leonberg then intersperses scenes in which Indy has nightmares, ranging from fears about what could happen to his trusted owner to the evil manifesting within the house. It’s a way to ratchet up the tension and break up sequences that often follow the 'dog goes and investigates' formula.
"Good Boy" is a lean 73 minutes, which aligns with the film's strengths. If it were 10-15 minutes longer, the mystique would start to unravel, and pressing questions would overtake the premise.
On the surface, it's a doggo dodging, barking, and running from a variety of haunts. But perhaps there's something deeper to the horror that's portrayed overly in this film. Just by sheer genetic makeup, we will outlive our pets—a prospect that's extremely painful to consider. But what happens if the roles are reversed? Besides what we've come to expect from haunted house films of this stature, it's that prospect that makes 'Good Boy' something hearty and different.
