Gandhi once said you can tell a nation's greatness and morality by the way it treats its animals. Hungarian director Kornel Mundruczo clearly takes this quote's meaning to heart based on his fearless four-legged revenge tale, White God. The film explores a wide array of themes, racism and poverty chief among them, but it's also a classic tale of vengeance and corrupted innocence. While the allegory Mundruczo makes is a powerful and meaningful one, what makes White God all the more impressive is that it centers on a dog.
There's a reason the film won the Un Certain Regard at last year's Cannes; it's a completely original and wildly ambitious morality tale with a lead performance that makes one wish Oscars could be awarded to animals. Specifically a special treat, maybe a golden bone to chew gnaw on, needs to be awarded to twin pups Luke and Body, who instill more human emotion into the role of Hagen than many two-legged counterparts could ever hope to. Hagen is the canine companion to 13-year-old Lili (Zsófia Psotta), who must spend the summer with her dismissive father in Budapest. He's not a big fan of her pet, but then again neither is the government or its angry human constituents. A law has been put in place that protects pure breed animals while doing away with the mutts, of which Hagen is definitely part of the latter. But Lili loves him, and he loves her, even accompanying her to orchestra practice to the dismay of her instructor. When her father has had enough of the dog and abandons him by the side of the road, so begins a harrowing journey to be reunited that makes Lassie Come Home look like a stroll through Pet Smart.
But that in itself becomes a problem, because White God is so tough, so unflinching in its depiction of animal cruelty that it threatens to turn away dog lovers seeking the film out. That would presumably be the chief audience, right? However it's doubtful they will want to endure Hagan's descent into the world of dog fighting, which is captured with such brutality it will renew your hatred for Michael Vick. Left to fend for himself, Hagan is lured into the clutches of a shady animal trainer who beats him mercilessly, drugs him, starves him, sharpens his teeth, and throws him into the ring for battle. Watching Hagan's innocence stripped (he's frequently bloody and badly scarred) away is beyond painful, and while the violence that follows is obviously simulated it is no less difficult to stomach. It's not all doom and gloom for Hagan, however. While the vast majority of the humans he encounters are exploitative scumbags, he does make friends with other mixed breed dogs that become his friends. They're also looking for a little payback against those who have made their lives Hell. And boy, do they get it as the film transforms rather impressively into a Hitchcockian horror with packs of feral dogs standing in for The Birds. Mundruczo shows a deft hand for working in multiple styles; the sunny openness of the early scenes gives way to a kinetic, handheld approach while in Budapest's dark underbelly, and finally to a dark and shadowy city caught in the grip of fear.
So arresting is Hagan's plight that Lili's parallel story fails to measure up. Her parents are separated and her father is generally uncaring, especially when it comes to animals. He's a food inspector by trade and one of the film's stark opening scenes is of him in a bloody slaughterhouse with animal carcasses everywhere. Meanwhile Lili goes through her own journey of the soul, experimenting with drugs and alcohol while rebelling against the humorless adults in her life. It simply doesn't have the soul of Hagan's journey, which sees him undergo numerous heartbreaking and heartwarming changes. At times the screenplay, penned by Mundruczo himself, oversells the racial uprising metaphor when he doesn't really need to. Destined to make a long-lasting impact, White God is a riveting film that has bark and bite.
Rating: 3.5 out of 5
Trav's Tip: The title White God is a play on Sam Fuller's controversial racism drama, White Dog, which was released in 1982 and starred Paul Winfield and Kristy MacNicol.
