Dogtooth

Dogtooth is the first of this year's Academy Award nominees in the Best Foreign Film category that I've had a chance to see, and it's one of the most unusual to get tapped in that category, at least since The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie way back in 1972. The rule of thumb is that the Foreign Film nominees are selected by older members, who have time to see all the films. Well, I don't know about that this year, as Dogtooth is not your father's Foreign Film nominee.

Directed by Yorgos Lanthimos, Dogtooth is a Greek film that defies categorization. It reminded me some of M. Night Shamalyan's The Village, in that the plot concerns children who are raised without the influence of the outside world. But this film is more daring than that one, and leaves out some core properties, such as a motive or method. To my Americanized taste, this rankled a bit, but I can understand how it can be deliciously tantalizing to a more curious audience.

The story follows a family of five: father, mother, and three children (two girls and a boy), who are actually young adults. It becomes clear that they have never left the grounds of their home, conditioned to be afraid of the outside world. The hold that their parents have over them is so severe that they have even been taught the wrong definitions of words: a zombie is a small, yellow flower; a carbine is a beautiful white bird; the saltshaker is called the phone.

The three children spend their days making up games in a kind of perpetual Neverland. The father, who works at a factory, allows only one outsider in--a female security guard, who is paid to provide sexual favors to the boy. But when the guard wants more sexual satisfaction than the boy is willing to provide, she bribes one of the girls to perform cunnilingus on her. This sets in motion the gears of the plot.

In an interview on the DVD, Lanthimos speaks of how he was inspired to make a film that challenged the notions of the definition of family. He has certainly done that here, and the intricacies of the situation are well thought out. But I couldn't help but let my mind being bothered by niggling details. We see that the father has told a co-worker that his wife is paralyzed and does not want to see visitors, but how to explain the missing children? Were they born at home? Does no one else know of their existence? I suspect Lanthimos would say that these details are beside the point, but I was still bothered by them. Above all, I kept wondering at the motive. Simple insanity? A commentary on society at large?

The film also has an overall tone of stasis. Aside from the elder sister, who makes moves to leave, the other characters have no arc and do not change. We also have periodic quick flashes of violence (the one that may be most disturbing involves a cat and some garden shears). Lanthimos says he wants a reaction, whether it be positive or negative.

Dogtooth is also extremely sexual. Unless I miss my guess, a scene involving incest was not simulated, which certainly required the actors to go above and beyond. It's hard to imagine the Academy voters we think of when we think of this category watching this film without disgust, but I guess it's time to reassess those assumptions.

Though Lanthimos wants a strong positive or negative reaction, I'm right down the middle on this film (as is usually the case with me and love-it-or-hate-it films). I admire the filmmaking, but feel the story needed more fleshing out. As it exists, Dogtooth is a conversation piece, not a complete film.