The Power of the Dog, directed by Jane Campion, won the Silver Lion at the Venice Film Festival and is one of two new films for which Benedict Cumberbatch is being honored with a Tribute Actor Award at the Toronto International Film Festival. The other film, The Electrical Life of Louis Wain, finds Cumberbatch in his eccentric genius comfort zone.
In contrast, The Power of the Dog provides Cumberbatch with a very different character, a rugged rancher who epitomizes toxic masculinity. Based on the 1967 novel of the same name by Thomas Savage, The Power of the Dog is an episodically structured film divided into chapters. Set in Montana in 1925, it follows the family life of two brothers who couldn't be any more different from one another -- the nasty cowboy Phil Burbank (Cumberbatch) and the meek George Burbank (Jesse Plemons). Phil does not get along with George's new family, the widow Rose (Kirsten Dunst) and her effeminate son Peter (Kodi Smit-McPhee), and seeks to make their lives hell. It's not the most propulsive narrative but manages to maintain interest due to its simmering tension, strong performances, and thought-provoking subtext.
Phil Burbank is one of the most intentionally repulsive characters to headline a movie, and Cumberbatch makes the most of the role. Phil is well-educated and economically privileged, but he only uses his wit to bully others and do the dirtiest work as a show of his masculinity. Cumberbatch's vocal performance is inconsistent, shifting between a gruff Western drawl and the generic American accent he uses for Doctor Strange. However, his physical performance justifies all of the Oscar hype he's been getting for The Power of the Dog's starring role. So much about what makes Phil tick is left unspoken, and the subtle movements of his facial expressions can tell viewers more about him than words ever could.
Since Phil is impossible to root for, which characters maintain the audience's sympathy throughout The Power of the Dog? Plemmons' George is a bit too much of a non-entity to make much of an impact. Rose is more interesting, and her descent into alcoholism gives Kirsten Dunst enough big acting moments for an Oscar reel. However, it's Kodi Smit-McPhee's Peter who ends up being both the most interesting and most sympathetic character in the movie. This prim and proper boy who makes flowers out of paper and prefers reading to sport is a fish out of water amongst Phil and his fellow ranchers, but he maintains a quiet strength as others throw sexist and homophobic insults at him.
Like fellow 2021 film festival favorite Titane, The Power of the Dog is in large part about the conflicts of being attracted to men while struggling with their toxic masculinity. Campion's direction eroticizes the male figure, with copious shirtless scenes and even a glimpse of Cumberbatch's penis. For his own erotic pleasure, Peter reads bodybuilder magazines, enticed by the images even when the text is promoting the unhealthy machismo he endures every day. Though they remain antagonistic, Peter and Phil spend more time together in the film's final chapters, and the similarities and differences between them prove fascinating. Both characters are clearly repressing parts of themselves, but they choose to keep very different secrets.
The musical score by Radiohead's Johnny Greenwood does a great job building tension. Rose's past as a silent film accompanist works music into the narrative and into Phil's methods of psychological torture. Ari Wegner's cinematography, which evokes the grandeur of classic Westerns amidst a much smaller-scale story, also deserves praise. The Power of the Dog isn't the most entertaining film to watch, due to both its slow build and its general atmosphere of discomfort, but its complications will stick with you.
The Power of the Dog will be released in theaters on Nov. 17 and streaming on Netflix on Dec. 1.