Review of White Dog (1982) by Drew S — 21 Sep 2009

Samuel Fuller's White Dog is streamlined and pulpy; denied a DVD release in the States, it fit right at home when broadcasted on Lifetime--it's a Big Issue Morality Play, this time brought to you by the letter R.

The difference between Fuller's film and typical cable-channel fare is this one doesn't patronize you; you aren't congratulated on your outstanding non-racist moral values, a stance typical of lesson-based teleplays and even some higher profile pictures, such as Todd Haynes' Far From Heaven.

This is made possible by Fuller's premise; the seeds of hatred are not planted in the usual ignorant hillbilly type, but in an animal--the moral connotations of prejudice are instantly stripped away by using a dog; we can no longer excuse racism as unintelligence and instead must deal with it as something that intractably exists.

It is something we create, whether consciously or not, and something that cannot be shooed away. Here, Karl Lewis Miller plays a black animal trainer challenging himself to 'untrain' a dog that has learned to attack African-Americans on sight.

Sure enough, the scenes of the animal as arbitrary, sudden, inconspicuous killer are harrowing; and the end of the film offers little hope of reconciliation. This is a problem that cannot be untaught, with roots too ambiguous and tangled to be uncoiled; instead, we are left with an image of profound uncertainty and the question of what we have wrought.

When Fuller lets his camera gaze on the slow-motion canine, teeth bared and tongue flapping, all set to Morricone's score, it seduces its way under your skin--and the bite matches the bark.