The Power of the Dog

The Power of the Dog
Starring Benedict Cumberbatch, Kirsten Dunst, Jesse Plemons, Kodi Smit-McPhee
Directed by Jane Campion

When most people think of Western films, they think of epic shootouts, horseback chases, armed robberies, and the traditional cowboys versus varmints, but director Jane Campion turns those tropes on their head in "The Power of the Dog," instead focusing on the tense wild wild west as told through the eyes of four interconnected characters who all strive for one thing - power. Seeing how the power structure ebbs and flows between these totally unique characters is awe-inspiring, as delivered with impeccable performances and a nuanced, slow-burn story that escalates to a silent crescendo by the film's end, leaving you wonder-struck at how you were succinctly and subtly pulled into the story in a way you didn't think possible.

In Montana in 1925, brothers Phil (Benedict Cumberbatch) and George (Jesse Plemons) Burbank are successful ranch owners with very differing personalities - Phil is brutish, egotistical, unrelenting, controlling and manipulative, while George is shy, quiet, reserved, nice, and forgiving. It's the perfect yin-yang parallel that keeps both brothers in check, but that balance is threatened when George falls in love and marries widow inn owner Rose Gordon (Kristen Dunst) - whom Phil insulted on their first meeting - and she moves into the ranch house with her son Peter (Kodi Smit-McPhee), whom Phil also insulted mercilessly.

Phil feels threatened by Rose and sets out to destroy her emotionally by constantly berating her and insulting her at every turn, while he himself harbors deep secrets that threaten to bubble to the surface. He also insults Peter time and again, before taking a surprising turn and taking him under his wing and mentoring him - much to Rose's chagrin. Is Phil really turning over a new leaf, or does he have more nefarious purposes for taking Peter in?

"The Power of the Dog" is a celebration of performances, a movie that centers solely on the dialogue and actions of the characters as opposed to anything else - a movie that feels more like a play than a traditional film. The movie takes place almost entirely on one setting, and allows us to witness the tete-a-tete between the people who live within. These characters exhibit a broad range of emotions - from downright mockery and bullying to underlying secrets that could threaten to unravel the uneasy power level they possess. Each character has their own unique flaws and strengths, and Campion pulls out the best performances from these A-list actors as we follow their stories and stare in wonder at the denouement, which is somehow both explosive and quiet all at the same time.

Benedict Cumberbatch leads the film as Phil, the gruff, no-nonsense Burbank brother who would give Daniel Plainvew a run for his money. Yet while Plainview was a sociopath for wealth and privilege, Phil is a sociopath for a more personal reason. Cumberbatch plays Paul with dark glee, serving as a powder keg just waiting for the right moment to go off, as he controls the gang of cowboys under his control with an iron fist of his striking tongue, flicking out like a snake as he insults,berates, and belittles everyone around him. For him, power comes through obedience, and just like most bullies do, they bully others because they're hiding insecurities within themselves. Paul's insecurity bubbles underneath and any threat to discovering that secret is something he cannot tolerate, which is why he lashes out at Rose and Peter the most - the newcomers to the ranch, and the closest to him since she married his brother. He's relentless in his taunting to Rose, resorting her to contemplate self-destructive behaviors to overcome his verbal brutality, and he relishes in his ability to control her and everyone around him. Cumberbatch fully immersed himself in the role, taking on chain-smoking (so much so he got nicotine poisoning three times), not showering for two weeks, and isolating himself from Kirsten Dunst off-set to maintain the friction between the two characters.

On the flip side of the coin, Jesse Plemons plays Phil's brother George with a sincerity that's perfectly opposite of Phil's own nasty demeanor. He believes in love, he believes in his brother, and he believes that life can be perfect, sweet, and a fairy tale. Of course, with this being real life, that's utterly impossible, but George manages to try to hold onto his values despite Phil's constant bullying. Power - to George - is attained in having the perfect family life, loving wife, and steady income, and that's what he strives for. Plemons does an admirable job, but due to the nature of his character, he's easily overshadowed by the bigger personalities around him, but his love for Rose shines through, most notably due to the fact that Plemons and Kirsten Dunst are a couple in real life, so it's easy to act loving when you're really in love with the person you're acting against.

As Rose, Kirsten Dunst is the most powerless out of everyone in the film. She lost her first husband to suicide, and thankfully got a second chance at love with George, but it comes with a price - a price named Paul. The continual torture she received emotionally and mentally is as excruciating as being tortured physically, but these wounds don't go away so easily. We witness Rose's slow disintegration from loving mother and new wife to slow alcoholic and insecure, especially when it comes to wanting to play the piano with Paul's continual taunts in her ear. When Paul takes a liking to her son, it's the final straw for her, and she lashes out in her own way that threatens both herself and Peter in the process, but it's something entirely forgivable as well due to the disrespect she endured continually. Dunst gives a career-best performance here, one that needs recognition come awards season.

Finally, there's Kodi Smit-McPhee, who plays Rose's longsuffering son Peter. A bit flamboyant - at least in Paul's eyes - Peter's thin frame shuffles across the screen with a slow manner, almost disappearing in the grander landscape that envelops him. Yet his weak frame gives off a hidden strength that pulses inside, and one that escalates in slow, methodical ways that make you wonder about his own sanity. For Peter, power comes from protecting his mother at all costs, and when he sees Paul's continual attacks on her, he tries to diffuse the situation and give his mother the happiness she deserves. When Paul takes Peter in under his wing, Peter learns more about Paul's life, secrets, and insecurities than anyone else around him, which is something that Peter could use to his advantage - or what could make him a deadly target for Paul. Smit-McPhee, much like everyone else in the film, gives a career best performance that, again, demands awards recognition.

Surrounding these grand performances and powerful storytelling is a lush, lavish landscape (filmed in New Zealand) that's both beautiful and intimidating, as the ranch is surrounded by mountainous terrain and unforgiving landscapes, but also serve as lovely backdrops for the power struggles occurring within. The score - composed by the great Jonny Greenwood - also establishes the continual sense of dread as the strings pick up wildly, escalating in an exciting crescendo that swells into intense waves of gritty emotions. It keeps you on edge throughout, and never lets up - much like everything else in this film does. It's one that will stick with you, and leave you surprised that you felt that way as well due to the slow burn it crafts expertly.

A supremely written story, career-best performances, beautiful unforgiving landscapes and harsh musical scores make "The Power of the Dog" one epic slow burn thriller that will keep you on the edge of your seat as it climaxes in a powerful blend of subtly and intensity that'll stick with you long after the credits roll.

The Score: A+