Review of The Power of the Dog (2021) by Nicaustin — 02 Dec 2021

Deliver My Soul from the Sword of Masculinity.

Psalm 22:20, as read towards the end of THE POWER OF THE DOG, states: “Deliver my soul from the sword; my darling from the power of the dog.” But who is the dog in this situation? Depending on how you interpret Bible verses, it could be one of two people. Or it could be both; I’m sure Jane Campion would argue that. And who am I to argue against Campion? After all, she did just create a masterpiece. A masterpiece that interrogates masculinity and femininity in the brutal rolling plains of Montana.

Every frame of Campion’s Western she wrote and directed has some type of phallic or feminine imagery, from coarse bullwhips and wood logs to beautifully shot deep valleys and mountain peaks. Sometimes those images are used violently and sometimes sexually, which is no surprise. Campion works best when interrogating the vacillating themes of violence and sexuality. THE POWER OF THE DOG stars Benedict Cumberbatch and Jesse Plemons as brothers Phil and George Burbank. While George is patient and soft, Phil is cruel and callous. George allows Phil to continuously call him “fatso” if it keeps the peace, and in one memorable scene, Phil whips a horse for no reason because of an annoyance. They have a “tenuous peace” on their ranch, one that is disrupted by the arrival of George’s new wife, Rose (Kirsten Dunst), and later, her son Peter (Kodi Smit-McPhee). Rose is visually perturbed by Phil, their relationship plays like a horror film, but she is more concerned about her teenage son and the ridicule he endures at the hands of Cumberbatch’s rancher.

From the very beginning, when Phil laughs off Peter’s craftsmanship at creating paper flowers that causes Rose to weep, to a tense scene where Rose is ridiculed when trying to play on her new piano — each time she tries to play results with Phil outplaying her with his banjo — Rose is keenly aware of just how cruel Phil can be, untethering her from a fragile disposition.

But it’s the relationship between Phil and Peter that surprises, one that questions the nature of masculinity and femininity without a firm resolution (which we have to admit makes the best films). Although the true nature of Phil and Peter may elude most viewers, what I can say is that Phil has a capacity to love that most won’t understand other than many repressed, closeted men. And Peter? I’ll just say the Zodiac Killer would’ve served well under his tutelage. Perhaps I give too much away, but a film is supported by how its characters leave one contemplative. Cumberbatch and Smit-McPhee do an incredible job at conveying the warring emotions within each of them. Cumberbatch plays against type (even though he brings a longing for something to all his roles). Smit-McPhee is the true breakout, bringing a quiet snakiness layered upon shed skins. Plemons was perfectly cast as the even-tempered George, not stunt casting for natural chemistry with Dunst, whose work encompasses her entire filmography. From the naivety and silliness portrayed in her younger roles, to, well, the melancholia of MELANCHOLIA and nervous mania on display in FARGO, Dunst plays her role with full range.

What’s at the heart of THE POWER OF THE DOG? Betrayal? Cruelty? Writer Annie Proulx of “Brokeback Mountain” described the novel by Thomas Savage Campion based her film off of as “gripping and powerful”. Both her novel’s adaptation and Campion’s work have those attributes in common. Both present masculinity as both a hindrance and a conduit to one’s desires. Masculinity is a double-edged sword and one must wield it at their peril.