Kornél Mundruczó’s bizarre new film at Cannes is dedicated to the late Miklós Jancsó. Jancsó might well have enjoyed this startling and elusive parable. He surely would have savoured its uniqueness.
What kind of a film is this? It is a fantasia of canine madness that looks sometimes like a horror-thriller based on something by James Herbert or Stephen King – and sometimes like a tribute to Hitchcock’s The Birds. Except that this time it’s TheDogs.
It could be that Mundruczó has taken profoundly to heart Morrissey’s maxim that Meat is Murder, and wished to put it at the centre of his film. There are other moments when it looks like a blend of Gladiator and Spartacus only with dogs instead of humans. I could even occasionally see hints of innocent takes like The Incredible Journey and Hue and Cry.
The movie begins with an extraordinary sequence of a young girl on a bike being chased through Budapest’s deserted streets by a pack of feral dogs. The audience might well ask themselves if this intensely disturbing spectacle is a dream – and if the director has achieved it digitally, or with real dogs?
We are at any rate then introduced to a rather more normal situation. Lili (Zsófia Psotta) is upset by the tense relations between her separated parents; when her mother has to go away to Australia for three months on business, Lili has to stay with her grumpy dad who works in a gruesome meat-processing plant, where standards of hygiene may conceivably hold the key to what follows.
The most objectionable thing about Lili’s dad is that he hates her dog, a Labrador crossbreed called Hagen. Poor Hagen gets chucked out of the flat and is found on the street by some lowlife and trained up to be a fighting dog. All his gentle instincts drummed out of him.
But Hagen’s scary aggressive new persona seems to be shared by all the dogs in the police pound – and maybe all the dogs in the city. Soon they are staging a mass canine uprising, which is all the more scary because it is not part of a conventional horror film. Hagen’s angry face – snarling with teeth which have been filed back by his “fight” trainer – really is very intimidating.
Who are these dogs, and what do they want? What is their beef? Have they been eating the wrong kind of beef? Or wait – is it us, the swaggering humans, who have been eating the wrong kind? White God works as an ambiguous satire of power relations generally: eventually the lower orders will rise up. The film has a flair and a bite which I have found lacking in Mundruczó’s earlier films. It is a distant cousin to Planet of the Apes: all ruined Budapest needed was a big Statue of Liberty sticking up out of the asphalt.