Expectations can lead many people down a path of ruin and pain. Sometimes these expectations are self inflicted, other times they come from our families, but perhaps the heaviest expectations of all are those placed upon us through social conditioning and the cultures in which we live. If our innate personalities don’t align with who the outside world believes we should be, sometimes we end up spending our entire lives fighting against ourselves. Director Jane Campion has adapted a novel first published in 1967 that uses the Old West to explore this issue.
The Power of the Dog transports us back to Montana in 1925 as we encounter the Burbank brothers, George (Jesse Plemons) and Phil (Benedict Cumberbatch) two well to do ranchers. At a local restaurant/watering hole, the two encounter Rose (Kirsten Dunst) a widow and mother of an awkward, sensitive young boy Peter (Kodi Smit-McPhee). After the gruff Phil brings Rose to tears after berating and humiliating Peter for his interest in floral art, George comforts Rose which leads to a romance and eventual marriage. Rose and Peter soon move into the brothers’ ranch, but their union does nothing to soften Phil’s distrust and dislike of Rose and Peter. Over time, the fortunes of the three new relatives change as Phil soon takes Peter under his wing and Rose begins to wither in her new environment.
Despite its western setting and rugged characters set in the Old West, The Power of the Dog is less a frontier epic and more a character study on the crushing weight of expectations, specifically the expectations foisted upon people by gender stereotypes, socioeconomic status, and socialization overall. The conflict between Phil, Rose, and Peter is fueled entirely by the expectations of society for men like Phil, which current wave feminists would call toxic masculinity, which Phil compensates for through his acerbic and confrontational behavior, particularly towards Peter who is outwardly sensitive in a way that we come to learn Phil probably wishes he could be. As Phil and Peter grow close, we also see the subtext of repressed sexuality from Phil, opening up questions as to the true nature of his glowing admiration for his deceased mentor Bronco Harry. Although their relationship never crosses over into something overtly romantic or sexual, you can see the hole of loneliness that exists within Phil being closed as he takes Peter under his wing.
Loneliness resulting from the weight of expectations drives Rose’s journey in the film as well, as she struggles to fit into her new life as the wife of a rich, well-socialized man in George despite his obvious and frequently stated love and admiration for her. Phil’s constant tormenting and distrust of Rose doesn’t help matters in her trying to adjust to her new life, which Campion brilliantly depicts in a dialogueless scene involving Rose struggling to learn a classical music piece on the piano when Phil begins to play the same tune effortlessly on his banjo parallel to Rose, humiliating her in the process and reminding her of how much she doesn’t fit in with her new rich and cultured in-laws. Rose soon takes to alcohol to numb her emotions and struggle to nearly disastrous results. Despite their conflict, Rose and Phil both use things to mask their discomfort and shield their feelings. For Rose, it’s alcohol and for Phil over-the-top displays of masculinity. Both suffer as a result for masking who they are and how they feel, a statement on the plight of playing into societal expectations.
The Power of the Dog is a well acted film, led by Cumberbatch’s striking performance and Dunst’s equally good but contrasting portrayal of a woman quietly crumbling life hidden away from everyone else. Smit-McPhee also does well as a young man who begins the film unsure of himself but slowly develops into someone more self-assured without losing who he is at his core. The film’s cinematography is also sure to turn heads as Campion and director of photography Ari Wegner transform New Zealand into the early 20th century western frontier complete with scenic shots of mountains, sunsets, and sprawling fields and farmland. Kudos must also be offered for Grant Major’s production design which also recreates the look and feel of the Old West and adeptly depicts the turning cultural turning point of the era, juxtaposing the old school ranching and farm culture with the rapidly approaching technological shift of the automobile and the burgeoning roaring 20s. The gradual shift from one to the other mirroring the film’s theme of a need to shift from stifling expectations to one more amenable to the differences within people as individuals.
While The Power of the Dog contains many fantastic elements, the sum of its parts doesn’t feel quite as strong as the story plods along in some parts and may not immediately grab and latch onto many in its audience on first watch. The film’s strength is in its theme which takes some time to fully enter into view and doesn’t sink in completely until pondering it for some time post watch. Even after recognizing what Campion is communicating and how effective her effort was in its subtlety, the film isn’t as affecting or impactful in what it says. The power of this dog lies more in its technical execution rather than in its emotional resonance. What we’re treated to is something more impressive as a piece of art that won’t stay with people for long.
Image: Netflix
