A minibus is heading for a small, desolate town on the edge of the Gobi desert. A pack of stray dogs charges towards it, scaring the driver and tipping over the bus. Out of it comes Lang, an ex-convict who used to be a popular stunt motorcyclist, now returning to his hometown after 10 years in prison for the murder of a local gangster's nephew. A few conversations with the police later, the title card appears, and the magic of Black Dog begins. A poetic and minimalist film of healing and moving on, portrayed through a friendship, a bond, a spiritual connection between man and dog. The man is Lang, and the dog is the infamous thin black dog that has been terrorizing the town. Rumored of carrying rabies, the black dog goes around defending his territory by pissing on walls and biting people, so everyone is out to catch him.
Black Dog is a story of two lonely strays caged by a world that does not understand them. Two lost souls alienated by the society around them. Two black sheep who do not fit in. Lang is marginalized because of his past as a "murderer", and the black dog is also alienated amongst the other strays for being the biggest, strongest, fastest and most aggressive of all the dogs. One of Guan Hu's main messages in Black Dog is that no animal is evil. Humans can be, but dogs cannot. Stray dogs are violent because they're in constant fear, trying to survive in an evolving environment where they do not belong. Lang is similar to a stray dog. He's not like the others. He only says a few words in the whole film as he's very quiet and introverted. Like the black dog, he's trying to make a life for himself in a town that's in the process of modernization. After his time in prison, Lang has changed, and so did the town and the people he once knew. So now, he doesn't speak, he only exists and goes with the flow. That's why Lang and the black dog are so perfect for each other and why they instantly connected-they're both just trying to survive in a world they no longer know, a world that no longer wants them.
Black Dog is set during an important time for China, a time of urbanization and change. And this little town is impacted deeply. Most of its residents have fled, leaving their dogs behind, who now roam free in the streets and in the desert hills. The zoo is running out of money to sustain the animals, so they too are freed in the desert. The circus is trying to survive, but business hasn't been good. The old is being demolished to make way for the new, which is a clever pararell with the ending of the film, where the black dog dies but leaves behind a new generation of black puppies. The cinematography of Black Dog is gorgeous, with Guan Hu adopting the new "slow-cinema" Chinese style of Bi Gan, which made me fall in love with the film almost instantly. Long, panoramic shots of beautiful landscapes, quiet scenes of motorcycle rides and slow walks through dusty roads and desolate rural villages, are all complemented with a lonesome atmosphere.
Scenes like Lang and the black dog calmly passing through the desert's stray dogs, and the solar eclipse sequence with the zoo's tiger wandering the town's streets freely, are two of my favorite of the entire year so far. And the final shot of Black Dog is so beautiful and meaningful. Through his canine companion, Lang finally learns how to keep on living despite his dark past, and how to find happiness within life's miseries. The Pink Floyd soundtrack gives a certain nostalgia to Guan Hu's relaxing images, and the acting performances are absolutely stellar, human and animal alike, from Eddie Peng to the black dog named Xiao Xin, and the majestic tiger. Just the fact that Eddie Peng developed such a strong bond with Xiao Xin while filming that he felt he had to adopt him afterwards, is a beautiful real-life illustration of the message of this wonderful film. A melancholic and meditative journey of finding your place in the world through friendship, and a genuine tribute to man's best friend, Black Dog is simply one of the best films of the year, and proof that Chinese arthouse cinema is still very much alive.
