What an impressive opening scenario in widescreen format: hundreds of homeless dogs storm down a slope on the edge of a small town in the Gobi desert, causing a bus to overturn, from which the silent anti-hero of Chinese director Guan Hu’s latest work emerges. Uprising of those left behind?
Background of the film, which is atmospherically reminiscent of westerns and noir films: In 2001, China was awarded the contract for the 2008 Summer Olympics. In the government’s effort to present itself as a superpower capable of being integrated, forced relocations were forced. Several hundred thousand people lost their homes and entire villages were flattened so that impressive sports facilities could be built there.
But Lang, under whose silent shell an empathetic core seems to slumber, sabotages the brutal work of his hard-hearted colleagues wherever he can.
Lang’s (Eddie Peng) desolate hometown, whose oil wells have long since dried up, is also affected by these measures – their final demolition is imminent. The local rock star returns there from a stay in prison. But nothing good awaits him: many houses are already abandoned and the city is overrun by feral dogs. His father, the keeper of the remaining animals in the zoo, knowingly drinks himself to death. As if that wasn’t depressing enough, snake venom dealer Butcher Hu wants revenge on Lang for the death of his nephew – for which he wrongly blames him alone.
The prisoner has little choice but to take a job as a dog catcher – the government wants to get rid of the strays in a large-scale clean-up operation. Dogs whose owners cannot afford the registration fees are captured and killed, which Hu fortunately only conveys via the soundtrack. But Lang, under whose silent shell an empathetic core seems to slumber, sabotages the brutal work of his hard-hearted colleagues wherever he can. Above all, they want to capture the eponymous black dog, which is said to have rabies.
Lang’s first encounter with this animal is full of delicious black humor, and slapstick scenes run through the entire film: after Lang has peed on the wall of an abandoned building, the dog appears and puts his own scent mark over it. This is repeated several times until the dog catchers manage to catch the clever stray. But Lang, who was bitten by him, has to spend a week in quarantine with him to find out whether they have rabies. He very carefully befriends the four-legged outsider who, just like him, has to cope in a world that is literally going to the dogs. “Black Dog” is also a metaphor for depression.
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Lang’s approach to the animal does not involve the usual cheesy scenes and is supported by the noticeable connection between the main actor Peng and the scrawny greyhound. So it’s no surprise that Peng, who even slept in the same bed with the dog during filming, adopted him afterwards. He even traveled with him to the film’s premiere in Cannes to accept the award in the un Certain Regard section.
While the action sometimes lurches over plot holes, the camera work by Weizhe Gao, with whom Hu also worked on “The Sacrifice”, is so fascinating from the first to the last image that you are glued to the cinema seat like Lang is to his beloved one Motorcycle. Gao primarily uses long shots of the post-apocalyptic landscape that resonate for a long time. The action sequences are also superbly choreographed and cleverly staged – you would have loved to play a mouse or a puppy during filming.
Blockbuster director Hu was most recently celebrated for his cinematic war spectacles “The Sacrifice” and “The Eight Hundred,” which, although critical of the madness of war, are also imbued with national pride. In terms of content, Hu is now returning to his more regime-critical beginnings with a kind of “End Times Lassie”. He belongs to the so-called “sixth generation” of Chinese cinema, which tries to deal with the situation in an unvarnished way, bypassing censorship. Hu achieved this in 2009 with his black comedy “Cow,” which is about the friendship between a Chinese farmer and a dairy cow during the slaughter of World War II.
How do you tell a critical story about a surveillance state in which every film is first checked by the censorship authority? By ostensibly telling about the friendship between an ex-con and an allegedly rabid dog. “Mother, can I trust the government?” says the Pink Floyd song “Mother,” which runs through the film fable as a leitmotif – as does “Hey You” (also from “The Wall” album). “Don’t give up without a fight,” it says. In the end credits, Hu definitely dedicates his film to those who are ready for the next journey.
»Black Dog«: China 2024, Regie: Guan Hu. Mit: Eddie Peng, Zhangke Jia, Liya Tong. 110 Minuten, Start 12.12.
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