If you're lucky, once in a blue moon, you'll find a film that leaves you lost for words as the credits roll. Whether that's because you loved it or hated it, it's a rare feeling and an experience that will stick with you long after you leave the movie theatre or close your streaming app. For those who attended the world premiere of the Latvian animated horror film Dog of God at this year's Tribeca Film Festival, there are likely a few audience members who had the words ripped from their throats.
Set in 17th-century Latvia, tavernwoman Neze (Agate Krista) is accused of being a witch by local priest Buckholz (Regnars Vaivars), who arrests the woman to stand trial. When she is eventually forced to stand trial, a man named Theiss (Einars Repse) claims he is a werewolf. It's a simple plot, but Dog of God is far from straightforward, offering nightmarish imagery and thought-provoking subplots weaving an intricate tapestry of maddening despair, religious fanaticism, moral ambiguity, and more than anything else, sex.
Dog of God's narrative certainly doesn't shy away from its horny elements, throwing up more naked genitalia than, we would bet, all of the big blockbuster releases of the entire year. Part of the film follows the town's Baron desperately trying to cure his erectile dysfunction, while there are plenty of other titilating scenes, including the eclectic characters of the town, including the priest and his son/servant Klibis (Jurgis Spulenieks). Depravity intensifies as the film winds on, culminating in an all-out orgy of the flesh as the town – and film – descends into pandemonium. It forces the audience to confront the idea of what it means to be holy and ‘righteous', especially as Neze faces losing her life for accusations of witchcraft, while those accusing her commit acts far more heinous without retribution.
Theiss' werewolf character is an interesting way for siblings and co-directors Raitis and Lauris Ābele to explore Latvian folklore, though he takes a backseat in the bulk of the film's narrative despite seemingly being behind the chaos that happens all around him. They turn what is a fairly run-of-the-mill plot about a witch trial and the gray areas of morality surrounding religion, with psychedelic imagery and downright bizarre turns that never allow the audience to get comfortable during their viewing experience.
Told through rotoscope animation, Dog of God is equal parts beautiful and utterly grotesque, with the uncanny valley aspect of the animation style adding a disturbing edge to the imagery onscreen. It's the perfect vehicle to tell such an experimental story, and a true masterpiece to behold. Dog of God is sure to be a divisive film for more reasons than one, but it is a triumph of animation and storytelling that must be seen to be believed.
Dog of God had its world premiere at Tribeca Film Festival on 6 June