Black Dog (2024)

Original title: Gouzhen

Black Dog unfolds as a gritty tale of redemption set against the stark and evocative backdrop of the Gobi Desert. Directed by Guan Hu, this Chinese film tells the story of Lang, an ex-convict and former stunt motorcyclist, as he returns to his dying hometown. Struggling to find purpose, Lang joins a government program tasked with rounding up stray dogs ahead of the 2008 Beijing Olympics. Through this work, he forms an unexpected and profound bond with a feral black dog named Xin.

While Black Dog has its share of flaws, it also offers moments of striking visual beauty and emotional depth. Guan Hu delivers a compelling narrative but occasionally falters with pacing and character development. The film’s cinematography, helmed by Gao Weizhe, stands as its most remarkable feature. The Gobi Desert’s desolation is painted in vivid detail, with skies the shade of acid-washed denim and ominous mountains framing the story. These breathtaking visuals imbue the film with a grandeur that contrasts its intimate, personal themes.

Eddie Peng’s portrayal of Lang is both solid and subdued, capturing a man burdened by guilt and yearning for redemption. While nuanced, his character’s emotional arc feels incomplete in places, leaving some aspects of his transformation underexplored. The true star of the show is Xin the dog, whose expressive and heartwarming performance earned the Palm Dog Grand Jury prize at Cannes. The bond between Lang and Xin forms the heart of the story, offering moments of genuine poignancy.

The film’s pacing, however, poses a challenge. Certain scenes drag, dampening the emotional impact and momentum. Despite this, Black Dog manages to deliver a thoughtful meditation on themes of loneliness, redemption, and the profound connection between humans and animals. Guan Hu’s direction excels at evoking a mood that is both sombre and unexpectedly hopeful, blending elements of Western and noir genres into a distinct cinematic experience. However, some symbolic motifs, such as a solar eclipse, come across as overly deliberate and forced.

The supporting cast adds texture and depth to the narrative, particularly Jia Zhangke as Uncle Yao and Hu Xiaoguang as the vengeful Butcher Hu. Their performances enrich the story’s sense of community and contextualise Lang’s personal journey.

The film’s score, while serviceable, does little to stand out, though it complements the visuals well. Matthieu Laclau’s editing is smooth and proficient, but a tighter approach might have mitigated some of the film’s pacing issues.

Despite its imperfections, Black Dog is a film that will linger in your mind. Its central themes, anchored by the moving relationship between Lang and Xin, resonate deeply. The visual poetry of the Gobi Desert combined with Guan Hu’s atmospheric direction ensures that the film remains a worthwhile experience.

For cinephiles seeking a visually stunning, emotionally layered drama, Black Dog offers a poignant, if occasionally uneven, journey through the Chinese wilderness. While it may not be flawless, its moments of beauty and emotional impact make it a film worth experiencing.