Re: The Power of the Dog
Posted: Fri Dec 17, 2021 6:14 pm
IF YOU HAVEN’T SEEN THE FILM, YOU PROBABLY SHOULDN’T READ THIS
Disclaimer number 1: despite my big-screen preference, I watched this on Netflix. The main NY theatrical release was brief (largely over Thanksgiving); now it’s only playing at an inconvenient spot way down in the Village. So, I opted for the inferior format. The film looked good even on TV (I can easily see the cinematography praise), but bear this in mind as potentially contributing to my reactions.
(Bigger) disclaimer number 2: I’ve never been a big Jane Campion fan. I thought The Piano was impressive visually, but, in narrative terms, I found the script a rehash of The Most Happy Fella/Wild is the Wind plot (the mail order bride & the hired hand), heavily burdened with Big-Time Symbolism! – not a style I favor. Portrait of a Lady almost literally put me to sleep. I didn’t even care for Top of the Lake, despite being a soft touch for mysteries. Something in Campion’s sensibility – a lack of humor bordering on the dour, a preference for the allusive/hinted-at over the straightforward – just doesn’t reach me; it leaves me feeling dramatically excluded from her work. So, bear that in mind, as well.
Within those limits, I found most of The Power of the Dog engaging. I kept thinking I knew the direction the story was going, but it kept foiling my expectations – in fact, for much of the film, it was difficult to know who the protagonist or what the focal point was. And I mean that in a good way: first it seemed all the drama was the Cumberbatch/Smit-McPhee face-off…then it became Jesse Plemons courting Dunst… then Cumberbatch/Dunst in conflict…then back to Cumberbatch/Smit-McPhee, only in a different key. I can’t say I was emotionally invested in the characters as people – Campion’s style is a bit too arty/distant for that – but watching the narrative take sudden turns was pleasurable, and Campion’s compositions were, as usual, impeccable and often sensual.
I CAN’T GO ANY FURTHER IN DISCUSSING MY FEELINGS ABOUT THE FILM WITHOUT GETTING INTO MAJOR SPOILER TERRITORY. IF YOU HAVEN’T SEEN THE FILM, AND DON’T WANT PLOT POINTS RUINED, LEAVE THESE PREMISES RIGHT NOW
The big shift in the narrative comes shortly after Smit-McPhee arrives home from college. We’re set up, from the early scenes in this sequence, to believe things will explode between him and Cumberbatch – the taunting gets harsher, and feels like it’ll lead somewhere ugly. But then Cumberbatch turns unexpectedly benign: seemingly offering friendship, guidance. We know by this point that Cumberbatch is closeted gay (from his eroticization of his old pal’s handkerchief); we also know Smit-McPhee knows about this, having discovered his for-the-era gay-porn stash. I assume many, like me, were on guard during this stretch – feeling like menace was lurking, expecting Cumberbatch to turn vicious at some point: the closeted man lashing out at someone who reminds him too clearly who he is. But, no: his character seems genuinely to want to befriend Smit-McPhee – possibly to show him how to cover his inclinations…or maybe for genuine romantic involvement. And the kid seems to respond; he certainly ignores all his mother’s pleas that he not hang out with Cumberbatch. At this point, I began to wonder if the story was headed into Brokeback territory.
It turned out something else entirely (AGAIN: BIG WARNING ABOUT SPOILERS). And what happens in this final section of the film is the big elephant in the room, for me, in discussing this film. A terse-as-possible description of those last roughly 15 minutes: Dunst, who’s been tippling throughout the last half of the movie, takes sick; Cumberbatch and Smit-McPhee saddle up and go into the mountains; a bunch of indigenous folk turn up, and Dunst impulsively gives away the ranch’s leftover hides (which would otherwise have been thrown away); Cumberbatch, on return, is furious – because he doesn’t like giving things to the natives, and because he planned to use the hides to finish a rope he was making for Smit-McPhee; Smit-McPhee gives him a hide from a cow he skinned while on an earlier wander; the two guys have a conversation in the barn while Cumberbatch works on the rope, where Smit-McPhee asks insinuating questions about Cumberbatch’s late mentor – the scene fades to black; the next morning, Plemons can’t understand why Cumberbatch, who never sleeps in, is not at work; he goes and finds Cumberbatch feeling under the weather; Plemons insists Cumberbatch let him take him to the doctor; another fade to black, and Plemons is picking out a coffin – Cumberbatch is dead; the doctor tells him he can’t be sure why, but it looks like it could be anthrax – Plemons says that’s hard to believe, his brother was always careful dealing with infected cattle; Dunst and Plemons greet the mourners, Dunst suddenly all recovered; Smit-McPhee watches her, glad for her health; he gingerly takes the rope Cumberbatch made for him, and puts it under his bed. Blackout, end of film.
I go to this level of specificity, without interpretation, to explain how I experienced the last section of the film. And to tell you that my reaction, as that blackout came, was What the hell just happened? It was obvious SOMETHING big had occurred – Cumberbatch’s character was dead -- but I was apparently on my own to figure out how. There can, of course, be pleasure in putting something together slowly, if it’s right there in front of you and all you need is to take a short step or two. This was not such a case, for me. I was just annoyed that the narrative seemed to be deliberately obtuse. So, I didn’t bother sitting there and puzzling it out -- I went straight to Google. And I quite quickly found I was far from alone in my reaction -- there were multiple links on the rough subject “What does the ending of Power of the Dog mean?” Evidently even Smit-McPhee, upon first reading the script, felt like he’d missed something -- he went back and re-read, still didn’t get it, had to have Campion explain it to him. And here’s a link to two critics from Slate discussing the film -- https://slate.com/culture/2021/12/power ... lyzed.html -- where they basically conclude you need to watch the film twice to understand it. Now, over in another thread, I just got through saying (of Licorice Pizza), that I’m open to watching a film a second time to resolve complicated feelings about it. But I shouldn’t have to watch a film twice to know what the fuck happened in it.
I didn’t stay in the dark very long. I followed some of the Google links, and had the outcome explained to me. In brief (AGAIN, SPOILERSSPOILERSSPOILERS): Smit-McPhee, far from being weak in his tete-a-tete with Cumberbatch, had been playing a long game. He blamed Cumberbatch for driving his mother to drink, and plotted to destroy him. He saw a cut on Cumberbatch’s hand, knew it made him vulnerable to infection. He gave him the hide he’d saved from an anthrax-infected cow (always using gloves when he handled it himself), knowing Cumberbatch’d touch it bare-handed and the infection would kill him. “Protecting his mother”, as he told us in the voice-over that opened the film.
You know something? I think that’s a pretty brilliant plot turn. It’s like an early M. Night Shyamalan twist – one that changes the entire landscape through which you’ve been viewing the film – but with a human and thematic dimension that most of Shyamalan’s stuff lacks. If I’d experienced it in the process of watching the film, I might think as highly of this film as many apparently do. But I didn’t: I had to read it half an hour later. I guess I have to ask those here who’ve praised the movie if this was even an issue for them. (I exempt flipp, since he’d apparently read the book; by all accounts the book is more forthcoming about these climactic events.) okri mentions liking the film despite “confusion”, and I wonder if this is what he’s referencing? (For the record, I like much of the film despite this issue, too – I just can’t love it.) But anonymous and danfrank have both praised the movie highly with no mention of any of this. Are you two just way more perceptive than I, or did you have any of the problems I had in grasping the essentials of the climax?
Because how I see it is, Jane Campion, who did a lot of things to make the film good, is responsible for this deficiency. It’s not as if she created the brilliant plot outcome: Thomas Savage handed that to her on a platter. She, with her elusive style, made that plot too opaque for me to grasp, and to me that’s a serious failing.
I have other questions about the narrative, as well. Is Smit-McPhee correct in blaming Cumberbatch for Dunst’s emotional breakdown/drinking problem? It struck me Plemons, with his insistence she play piano despite her obvious discomfort, was just as much at fault. Am I supposed to think Cumberbatch, with his intrusive guitar play, is uniquely responsible -- or is Smit-McPhee wrong about assigning blame? And what about Cumberbatch’s claim that Dunst is an opportunist, just looking to get her kid’s college paid for? Is he right about that, and is Smit-McPhee’s anger partly at knowing that Cumberbatch sees through this? These are issues that fall more into grey areas/subjects for debate – if I hadn’t had the big problem with the climax, I might view them as interesting ambiguities. But, knowing Campion’s elliptical style, I can’t be sure what’s intentional imprecision and what’s narrative incompetence.
As I say, there’s also a lot of good on display. The images are often wonderful (the shot of deathly ill Cumberbatch insisting on walking, while Plemons trails him in his automobile, illustrates Old West/New West dichotomy perfectly), and Jonny Greenwood’s jangly, not-at-all-Western-cliché score provides an ominous mood throughout. It’s very possible that a second viewing, where all plot issues are resolved, will go more smoothly. But my honest reaction to a single viewing is that Campion short-changed her excellent material by simply not having the ability to tell a story coherently.
Disclaimer number 1: despite my big-screen preference, I watched this on Netflix. The main NY theatrical release was brief (largely over Thanksgiving); now it’s only playing at an inconvenient spot way down in the Village. So, I opted for the inferior format. The film looked good even on TV (I can easily see the cinematography praise), but bear this in mind as potentially contributing to my reactions.
(Bigger) disclaimer number 2: I’ve never been a big Jane Campion fan. I thought The Piano was impressive visually, but, in narrative terms, I found the script a rehash of The Most Happy Fella/Wild is the Wind plot (the mail order bride & the hired hand), heavily burdened with Big-Time Symbolism! – not a style I favor. Portrait of a Lady almost literally put me to sleep. I didn’t even care for Top of the Lake, despite being a soft touch for mysteries. Something in Campion’s sensibility – a lack of humor bordering on the dour, a preference for the allusive/hinted-at over the straightforward – just doesn’t reach me; it leaves me feeling dramatically excluded from her work. So, bear that in mind, as well.
Within those limits, I found most of The Power of the Dog engaging. I kept thinking I knew the direction the story was going, but it kept foiling my expectations – in fact, for much of the film, it was difficult to know who the protagonist or what the focal point was. And I mean that in a good way: first it seemed all the drama was the Cumberbatch/Smit-McPhee face-off…then it became Jesse Plemons courting Dunst… then Cumberbatch/Dunst in conflict…then back to Cumberbatch/Smit-McPhee, only in a different key. I can’t say I was emotionally invested in the characters as people – Campion’s style is a bit too arty/distant for that – but watching the narrative take sudden turns was pleasurable, and Campion’s compositions were, as usual, impeccable and often sensual.
I CAN’T GO ANY FURTHER IN DISCUSSING MY FEELINGS ABOUT THE FILM WITHOUT GETTING INTO MAJOR SPOILER TERRITORY. IF YOU HAVEN’T SEEN THE FILM, AND DON’T WANT PLOT POINTS RUINED, LEAVE THESE PREMISES RIGHT NOW
The big shift in the narrative comes shortly after Smit-McPhee arrives home from college. We’re set up, from the early scenes in this sequence, to believe things will explode between him and Cumberbatch – the taunting gets harsher, and feels like it’ll lead somewhere ugly. But then Cumberbatch turns unexpectedly benign: seemingly offering friendship, guidance. We know by this point that Cumberbatch is closeted gay (from his eroticization of his old pal’s handkerchief); we also know Smit-McPhee knows about this, having discovered his for-the-era gay-porn stash. I assume many, like me, were on guard during this stretch – feeling like menace was lurking, expecting Cumberbatch to turn vicious at some point: the closeted man lashing out at someone who reminds him too clearly who he is. But, no: his character seems genuinely to want to befriend Smit-McPhee – possibly to show him how to cover his inclinations…or maybe for genuine romantic involvement. And the kid seems to respond; he certainly ignores all his mother’s pleas that he not hang out with Cumberbatch. At this point, I began to wonder if the story was headed into Brokeback territory.
It turned out something else entirely (AGAIN: BIG WARNING ABOUT SPOILERS). And what happens in this final section of the film is the big elephant in the room, for me, in discussing this film. A terse-as-possible description of those last roughly 15 minutes: Dunst, who’s been tippling throughout the last half of the movie, takes sick; Cumberbatch and Smit-McPhee saddle up and go into the mountains; a bunch of indigenous folk turn up, and Dunst impulsively gives away the ranch’s leftover hides (which would otherwise have been thrown away); Cumberbatch, on return, is furious – because he doesn’t like giving things to the natives, and because he planned to use the hides to finish a rope he was making for Smit-McPhee; Smit-McPhee gives him a hide from a cow he skinned while on an earlier wander; the two guys have a conversation in the barn while Cumberbatch works on the rope, where Smit-McPhee asks insinuating questions about Cumberbatch’s late mentor – the scene fades to black; the next morning, Plemons can’t understand why Cumberbatch, who never sleeps in, is not at work; he goes and finds Cumberbatch feeling under the weather; Plemons insists Cumberbatch let him take him to the doctor; another fade to black, and Plemons is picking out a coffin – Cumberbatch is dead; the doctor tells him he can’t be sure why, but it looks like it could be anthrax – Plemons says that’s hard to believe, his brother was always careful dealing with infected cattle; Dunst and Plemons greet the mourners, Dunst suddenly all recovered; Smit-McPhee watches her, glad for her health; he gingerly takes the rope Cumberbatch made for him, and puts it under his bed. Blackout, end of film.
I go to this level of specificity, without interpretation, to explain how I experienced the last section of the film. And to tell you that my reaction, as that blackout came, was What the hell just happened? It was obvious SOMETHING big had occurred – Cumberbatch’s character was dead -- but I was apparently on my own to figure out how. There can, of course, be pleasure in putting something together slowly, if it’s right there in front of you and all you need is to take a short step or two. This was not such a case, for me. I was just annoyed that the narrative seemed to be deliberately obtuse. So, I didn’t bother sitting there and puzzling it out -- I went straight to Google. And I quite quickly found I was far from alone in my reaction -- there were multiple links on the rough subject “What does the ending of Power of the Dog mean?” Evidently even Smit-McPhee, upon first reading the script, felt like he’d missed something -- he went back and re-read, still didn’t get it, had to have Campion explain it to him. And here’s a link to two critics from Slate discussing the film -- https://slate.com/culture/2021/12/power ... lyzed.html -- where they basically conclude you need to watch the film twice to understand it. Now, over in another thread, I just got through saying (of Licorice Pizza), that I’m open to watching a film a second time to resolve complicated feelings about it. But I shouldn’t have to watch a film twice to know what the fuck happened in it.
I didn’t stay in the dark very long. I followed some of the Google links, and had the outcome explained to me. In brief (AGAIN, SPOILERSSPOILERSSPOILERS): Smit-McPhee, far from being weak in his tete-a-tete with Cumberbatch, had been playing a long game. He blamed Cumberbatch for driving his mother to drink, and plotted to destroy him. He saw a cut on Cumberbatch’s hand, knew it made him vulnerable to infection. He gave him the hide he’d saved from an anthrax-infected cow (always using gloves when he handled it himself), knowing Cumberbatch’d touch it bare-handed and the infection would kill him. “Protecting his mother”, as he told us in the voice-over that opened the film.
You know something? I think that’s a pretty brilliant plot turn. It’s like an early M. Night Shyamalan twist – one that changes the entire landscape through which you’ve been viewing the film – but with a human and thematic dimension that most of Shyamalan’s stuff lacks. If I’d experienced it in the process of watching the film, I might think as highly of this film as many apparently do. But I didn’t: I had to read it half an hour later. I guess I have to ask those here who’ve praised the movie if this was even an issue for them. (I exempt flipp, since he’d apparently read the book; by all accounts the book is more forthcoming about these climactic events.) okri mentions liking the film despite “confusion”, and I wonder if this is what he’s referencing? (For the record, I like much of the film despite this issue, too – I just can’t love it.) But anonymous and danfrank have both praised the movie highly with no mention of any of this. Are you two just way more perceptive than I, or did you have any of the problems I had in grasping the essentials of the climax?
Because how I see it is, Jane Campion, who did a lot of things to make the film good, is responsible for this deficiency. It’s not as if she created the brilliant plot outcome: Thomas Savage handed that to her on a platter. She, with her elusive style, made that plot too opaque for me to grasp, and to me that’s a serious failing.
I have other questions about the narrative, as well. Is Smit-McPhee correct in blaming Cumberbatch for Dunst’s emotional breakdown/drinking problem? It struck me Plemons, with his insistence she play piano despite her obvious discomfort, was just as much at fault. Am I supposed to think Cumberbatch, with his intrusive guitar play, is uniquely responsible -- or is Smit-McPhee wrong about assigning blame? And what about Cumberbatch’s claim that Dunst is an opportunist, just looking to get her kid’s college paid for? Is he right about that, and is Smit-McPhee’s anger partly at knowing that Cumberbatch sees through this? These are issues that fall more into grey areas/subjects for debate – if I hadn’t had the big problem with the climax, I might view them as interesting ambiguities. But, knowing Campion’s elliptical style, I can’t be sure what’s intentional imprecision and what’s narrative incompetence.
As I say, there’s also a lot of good on display. The images are often wonderful (the shot of deathly ill Cumberbatch insisting on walking, while Plemons trails him in his automobile, illustrates Old West/New West dichotomy perfectly), and Jonny Greenwood’s jangly, not-at-all-Western-cliché score provides an ominous mood throughout. It’s very possible that a second viewing, where all plot issues are resolved, will go more smoothly. But my honest reaction to a single viewing is that Campion short-changed her excellent material by simply not having the ability to tell a story coherently.