The Power of the Dog
Directed by Jane Campion. Reviewed by Paul Sorrell
Many readers will be drawn, as I was, to the prospect of seeing a Western set in New Zealand, here among the tussocklands and folded hills of the Ida Valley in Central Otago, and directed by our own Dame Jane Campion.
Indeed, the location plays a major role in The Power of the Dog, where the characters play out their passions almost overwhelmed by a vast, enveloping landscape that nevertheless holds something of the beauty and consolation that nature offers to troubled humanity. The warm browns and golds of the South Island high country are mirrored in the film’s domestic interiors — mostly the Burbank family’s imposing ranch house — all glowing wood and flickering lamplight.
This is the story of two wealthy brothers and the life choices they make. Right from the outset, as they ride side by side on a cattle drive, the contrasts are stark — Phil (Benedict Cumberbatch), the arrogant, tough-talking cowboy, and George (Jesse Plemons), reticent and uncomfortable in his city clothes. The tensions ramp up when George brings local hotel-keeper and widow Rose (Kirsten Dunst) home as his wife, along with her epicene son, Peter. This arrangement outrages the callous and domineering Phil, whose suppressed homosexuality smoulders throughout the film. Inevitably, he is drawn to Peter at the same time as he continues to humiliate Rose, who feels out of place in her new social setting.
Based on the 1967 novel by Thomas Savage, and set in Montana in 1925, Campion’s film explores the theme of mismatched sexuality, focusing on constructions of masculinity that manifest in the characters in various ways — spanning the divide from Rose’s ineffectual husband George to Phil, whose repressed desires and sexualised adulation of his cowboy mentor, Bronco Henry, make him a ticking time bomb. The “effeminate” Peter shows an unexpected attunement to his surroundings — and an unsentimental approach to animals — that draws Phil to him.
Alongside the omnipresent landscape, Campion draws on multivalent symbols such as the rawhide rope that Phil weaves as a gift for Peter. In contrast to The Piano, where the symbolism tended to be free-floating, here such images are successfully tethered to theme and character.
Troubled, conflicted, overbearing, angry and resentful, the apparent epitome of macho rectitude, the figure of Phil occupies the heart of Campion’s beautifully crafted film. Cumberbatch’s stellar performance raises it to another level. Do take the time to see this powerful, nuanced, multi-layered film on a big screen near you.
Tui Motu Magazine. Issue 266 December 2021: 28