[psycho d]

Dogtooth (2009). Going in cold is the best choice for a movie such as Dogtooth. As it began, I could not help but wonder about the acting. Are these horrible actors, or is this some unfathomable aspect of Greek culture that has yet to permeate into Western Civilization, or is this supposed to be a discombobulating factor of this movie whose achievements could not be greater? That said, I was not in the least disappointed. This is not a movie for everyone though. Hate to throw in even a micro-spoiler, but for those squeamish of animals violence then you may wanna stay away. Disturbing subjects and taboos are broached with the innocence of a child armed with a lighter and a captured butterfly, brutality with a cruel innocence (this is not a spoiler). Also, this movie lives in the realm of the askew, where the movie proper really does not make sense for some time, but rather accomplishes its ineffable feat by creating such an intriguing backdrop that its confusion gets relegated into the background of insignificance.

Thankfully, as this highly original flick moves forward, some sense is made of its scrubby nature, and the initial confusion is replaced with a discomfiture as to how we should be feeling. Towards the end, the whole of the story begins to congeal, and even the ridiculous dialog begins to reveal its profundity. For those looking for the greater social significance, this movie should easily provide fodder for further contemplation of the world today.

The acting was astounding once I got used to it. More so, to have behaved otherwise would have been absurd, for such bizarre circumstances must make for rather untoward behavioral incongruities. The rather small cast steps up to the challenge with aplomb, and any addition to this small bounty of disarraying talent would have been too off-putting for most audiences.

Writer/director Giorgos Lanthimos does a spectacular job here in taking a difficult subject and creating high art out of it. Even halfway through, when I had no clue as to what was going on, I was glued to the screen, more intrigued by the screen than is a cat with his prey. The photography was difficult yet important, and in the beginning it worked miracles creating an emotionally distanced attachment to the characters, perfectly manipulative for all the right reasons.

At its conclusion, the initial feelings of cinematic distrust are largely replaced by a sort of pride for having stuck through this one coupled with a wary unease as to how such a perverse story could strangely parallel the world as it is today.
d