Two cattle ranchers make their way across the imposing landscape of 1920s Montana, a long line of cattle silhouetted across the entire screen. A young man lays homemade paper flowers at the grave of his father, surrounded by makeshift wooden crosses sticking out of the barren ground. There are some striking images in Jane Campion‘s The Power of the Dog (2021). The vast and the intimate juxtaposed in the space of a matter of minutes.
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Out with the Old West, in with New Zealand
New Zealand makes a pretty convincing stand-in for the desolate Old West. And it is a poetic and appropriately bleak backdrop. The Power of the Dog (a title referencing Psalm 22 in the Old Testament) focuses on just that – power. Specifically, one man exerting power over everyone who crosses his dusty path.
Cattle rancher Phil Burbank (Benedict Cumberbatch) is a nasty piece of work, deeply unlikeable and unpleasant to pretty much everyone around him, including his gentler, more gentlemanly brother George (a stoic and reserved Jesse Plemons). A rage bubbles under the surface of Burbank’s arrogance and no one is safe from his compulsion to mock and belittle.
He has his loyal followers in the cowhands who accompany him traversing the arid country. But when they stop off at a diner, he finds fresh fodder in Peter (Kodi Smit-McPhee), the aforementioned young man we saw at the grave, who serves them their dinner and adorns their table with his paper flower creations.
Toxic masculinity
Peter’s way is not Burbank’s way of rugged masculinity and the blood, spit and sweat of the nomadic cattle ranching life. And Burbank wants Peter to know it. He is navigating the innocence of youth and his burgeoning sexuality; a naivety that Burbank exploits with thinly veiled repugnance and homophobia.
When his brother takes a romantic interest in Peter’s mother, the widowed Rose (poignantly played by Kirsten Dunst), Burbank sees her as fair game. He is aggressively dismissive of her. He taunts her with a melody she is struggling to master on the piano. Driven to drink, her initial poise and charm are gradually eroded by Burbank’s insidious campaign of psychological torment perpetrated against mother and son.
This compelling build-up of character means that The Power of the Dog is the dictionary definition of slow-burning, despite coming in at a surprisingly modest 128 minutes. Soundtracked by an angular, minimalist score by Jonny Greenwood, the film never quite settles. It is as on edge as its characters.
Benedict Cumberbatch – method in the madness
In true ‘method’ style, Cumberbatch came prepared and remained in character throughout the shooting of the film; chain-smoking, remaining unwashed, learning the banjo, and even going so far as to learn how to castrate a bull, something which he unflinchingly demonstrates in the film. (I wonder if Marvel will capitalise on this newfound skill and incorporate it into the mystical armoury of Doctor Strange).
Whatever one’s view on this kind of commitment to the craft, there is no doubt that the result is a compelling performance. Cumberbatch commands the screen and, as the lives of the characters begin to intertwine, enveloped by the relentlessness of Burbank’s intimidating manner, you cannot help but desire that Burbank receives his comeuppance.
Therefore, there should surely be a satisfactory, cathartic release at the film’s climax. And yet, just as it looks as if the story is revving up towards a blistering, tragic last act, there is an abrupt change of gear, and the previous momentum is deflated. It is not enough; the story and the audience deserves more.
The performances are uniformly strong and Campion (who also wrote the screenplay, adapted from Thomas Savage’s novel of the same title) controls the character dynamics with customary self-assurance. But The Power of the Dog just feels a bit too safe and not quite as challenging as it sets out to be, particularly when it has a character as unpredictable and volatile as Phil Burbank at its centre.
Credits
Editor & Artwork/Banner (Film Forums): Richard Williams
Images: Benedict Cumberbatch (Gage Skidmore), Maniototo Plain and Ida Range (Ulrich Lange), Kodi Smith-McPhee (Gage Skidmore), Thomasin McKenzie (SINGmeAsadSONG)
Trailer: Netflix
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