Lili bikes through empty streets in a large city. A huge pack of dogs follows her, eventually catching up to her like a river, building a tension that “White God” attempts to evoke through the rest of the film.
Lili (Zsófia Psotta), a teenage girl, and her beloved pooch Hagen, are only staying with her father (Sándor Zsótér) for a short time, but when a new law imposing a fine for the “impurity” of the breed cracks down on mutts, her father leaves Hagen on the street rather than paying the fine.
Afterwards, Hagen is taken in by a cruel master and forced into a dog-fighting ring, where he loses his affectionate nature. Eventually he breaks free of the ring and, when taken to the pound, frees his fellow strays. They run through the streets of Budapest, taking revenge on those who wronged him. The last act is a mix of joy and ridiculousness, as dogs hide from the police and Hagen, now aggressive and mean, reunites with Lili.
That’s the problem with “White God” – it tries at every turn to downplay the absurdity inherent in the premise. Everything is so overwrought, so dedicated to making the film a social commentary, that it falls flat.
The allegory is at the center of “White God.” The dogs are meant to be a stand-in for an oppressed underclass – animal control are jackbooted thugs out to repress the dog proletariat; the pound is a death camp framed by a nuclear plant. But it never quite coheres into a clear message. The movie wants the viewer to think about the relationship between the oppressed and the oppressor, through Lili, a sympathizer.
“The dogs are organized like an army,” one character remarks. The dogs hide in a cruel owner’s living room, and a shot shows only their paws before they strike. This is played as a serious moment, and it doesn’t work as one. It works more as a comedy.
“White God” deliberately jumps around between genres. The third act is structured like a disaster movie, with shots depicting chaos. Psotta’s melodramatic scenes would fit right in to any other drama about coming of age, but despite her fine performance, they feel aimless. Her story is cross-cut with and clearly intended to mirror Hagen’s trials, but it’s a tedious parallel.
The film trained more than 250 dogs for use in pack scenes, and the two dogs performing as Hagen are the strongest actors in the picture. Using real dogs rather than CGI, the technical achievement is pretty spectacular and isn’t overused. The simulated abuse Hagen suffers at the hands of his captors tugs on the heartstrings as only sad animals can.
But while the dog-acting is convincing on a human level – Hagen always fears and emotes convincingly – it’s never fully realized on a dog level. The two dogs playing Hagen are too well-trained to act like normal dogs would. Too visual, too smart. Hagen looks at things when he thinks, like a human, rather than smelling them. Dog owners will be able to see the subtle, coached differences between this film and naturalistic dog-acting.
Overall, “White God” raises the specter of real world issues but leaves the viewer unfulfilled within the film’s dramatic arc. While the film wants to be a powerful piece of social commentary, ultimately, it’s for the dogs.
– Joshua Greenberg