Good Boy is a horror movie that’s more laudable for its perspective, craft, and patience than it is as a total package. The story is thin and obvious, but the atmosphere and core gimmick work so well that it’s easy to get lost within all of the menace. Told from the point of view of a dog trying to protect his best human friend from dark, sinister forces, Good Boy filmmaker elicits a tremendous canine performance from director Ben Leonberg’s pooch, Indy, and that turns out to be the secret sauce here. Without Indy and Leonberg’s full on commitment to making him the star, Good Boy would be lacking. It’s a movie that manages to be good because it keeps putting its best paw forward.
Ailing Todd (Shane Jensen) has been trying to get over a major health scare for some time, and he fears that a full on relapse is imminent. Not wanting his sister, Vera (Arielle Friedman), to worry about him anymore, Todd and his trusty dog make a hasty retreat from the city to his grandfather’s secluded estate, a property that looks only mildly less creepy in the daytime than it does on a dark and stormy night. Grandpa (Larry Fessenden) was a bit of a nutter and met an odd demise, but that’s of little concern to Todd. It is, however, a big concern to Indy, who starts getting visions of what happened on the property previously and begins to notice a looming evil in the darkness that seems poised to grab ahold of Todd. Indy does his best to protect Todd and alert him to the obvious dangers (especially whatever might be going on in the basement), but his owner’s increasingly bleak, impulsive disposition and mounting health problems will be hard for the dog to overcome.
Leonberg and co-writer Alex Cannon keep Good Boy simple, but effective. Clocking in at just a shade over 70 minutes, Leonberg’s film has calculated how far the premise can go without fraying at the edges. Indy is in every scene of the film, and at least 85% of the individual shots, so the perspective is locked in for the audience. The humans are heard, but their faces aren’t often seen (save for Fessenden, who pops up in old home movies and in Indy’s visions), leaving the viewer to see the world through Indy’s kind eyes. If Indy doesn’t see or hear something happening, the viewer won’t know about it. It’s possibly the first (and maybe only) major horror film to take the perspective of a beloved family pet since Eric Red’s underrated 1996 werewolf thriller Bad Moon (a movie that also keeps things short to protect its gimmick).
Good Boy is a marvel of editing, creative lighting, cinematography, and most importantly, patience. Filmed meticulously on closed sets over the course of years instead of weeks, Good Boy gives its leading man plenty of time and space to craft a naturalistic performance without driving the director and owner to extremes or CGI trickery for the sake of a bit. The focus here isn’t just to make viewers worry about the welfare of the animal, but to see Indy as a credible, capable, and brave hero with his own sense of duty. Sometimes, the focus means muddling the story to a point where not everything adds up or makes a lot of sense, but the foreboding nature of watching Indy battle with monsters his owner can’t see remains frightening and potent. Not all of the edits are sharp (a few are borderline incomprehensible), but they mask the shortcomings of making a movie where the dog is the star just fine, and Indy is nothing if not an expressive dog who can do more with his face than many humans.
Leonberg makes up for the lack of a polished story by making Good Boy into an allegory that works on two primary levels. First and most obviously, Good Boy is a fable about listening to the intuition of animals around us, something I’m sure a lot of pet owners can relate to, even when they think their furry friend is acting a bit strange. More poignantly, Good Boy is also about feeling helpless when a loved one is going through a major life change or illness. As Indy watches Todd get progressively sicker, the dog could just as easily be a visual surrogate for any family member who can only provide comfort and solace while hoping that things get better. The mental and physical deterioration of someone close to you is more gutting than any goopy, oil slick looking monster could ever be.
Good Boy is a film that’s better when parsing what it stands for and represents rather than as a well told story on the page. The script is okay, but the approach and filmmaking craft are fascinating to think about. Good Boy has already garnered a cult following as it has made its way around the festival circuit throughout the year, and it’s not hard to see why. It’s because Indy is a superstar dog, and Good Boy makes exceptional use of his talents and charisma. In a situation like this, we’d all be lucky to have Indy on our side, and once the viewer sees things form his perspective, they’ll want that companionship even more to get through life’s darker times.
Good Boy opens in theatres everywhere on Friday, October 3, 2025.
