It’s often said that our pets have a sixth sense, seemingly able to detect things beyond our perception or even predict death. It’s a simple, though eerie explanation for the instances where we discover our beloved pup staring intently at an empty corner in the middle of the night or barking at nothing. Good Boy, the feature debut by director Ben Leonberg, who co-wrote the script with Alex Cannon, uses this phenomenon as the basis for a haunted house horror movie. Framing the story entirely from the perspective of man’s best friend poses unique storytelling challenges but instantly creates a sustained feeling of unease and anxiety over the pup’s wellbeing.
Good Boy opens with a conventional haunted house scene, as good pup Indy becomes alarmed by a strange, dark mood that’s pervaded the cramped living room quarters in the middle of the night. His owner, Todd (Shane Jensen), begins bleeding and seizing, revealing this unsettling crisis isn’t supernatural but medical. The seriousness of Todd’s illness soon prompts him to give up his apartment and relocate to his Grandpa’s (Larry Fessenden) abandoned country home, cursed and haunted, according to Todd’s sister Vera (Arielle Friedman). That illness also means that Todd doesn’t notice that something about the place is off, but Indy becomes acutely aware that they’re not alone as its haunted history makes itself known in increasingly alarming ways.
Leonberg smartly establishes the tight-knit bond between Indy and Todd through home video footage charting their life together from Indy’s puppyhood to the present, where the sweet and obedient good boy dotes on Todd’s every move. That he’s such a quiet dog, vocalizing through soft whimpers over barking, only further entrenches this tremendously talented canine actor into your heart. Leonberg further keeps focus on Indy by keeping the faces of his human characters mostly obscured. The effect, of course, is that it puts you deeply on edge, constantly stressed the more it becomes apparent that harm is on the way and that this home has tragically claimed the life of a beloved pet before.
As easy as Indy and his real-life owner, Leonberg, make it to follow the pup along on this dread-inducing journey, the ambitious high concept isn’t without its storytelling challenges when your lead protagonist can’t relay what he’s seeing. The only real clues behind this atypical haunting come via phone calls between Todd and Vera and old home videos featuring Grandpa. The rules to this world’s brand of ghosts are as murky as the ghosts themselves, and the metaphor behind them is sometimes at odds with the haunted house concept. Indy’s gentle nature sometimes softens the impact of the scares, even when you’re worried about his ultimate fate.
Still, it’s tough to care about the narrative details when you’ve got a lead as winsome and empathetic as Indy, who effortlessly leads you through right to the bittersweet conclusion, one that makes it nearly impossible not to walk away with an even deeper appreciation for the utter devotion and loyalty our furry best friends give to their human pack. Good Boy is packed with shadowed corners, flickering lights, tormented ghosts, and even doggy nightmares, but it’s not really a haunted house story. Instead, Leonberg crafts a thoughtful, unnerving, and heartrending portrayal of how utterly terrifying it can be for a dog when his whole world is upended and he’s unable to understand why.
Good Boy made its world premiere at SXSW. Release info TBD.
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After Significant Other and Villains, it should be safe to assume that directing duo Dan Berk and Robert Olsen wouldn’t be interested in helming a feature that fits neatly into a tidy, uniform box. That, of course, means there’s more to Novocaine than a straightforward actioner centered around a hapless everyman thrust into a high stakes gauntlet. Berk and Olsen elevate this simple setup with their genre sensibilities, resulting in an action-splatstick hybrid that brings the pain to absurdly violent, entertaining highs.
Novocaine begins with an introduction to the world’s least likely action hero, Nathan Caine (Jack Quaid). Nate is an unflappably pleasant fellow with a strict morning routine of lunch prep and breakfast smoothies before heading off to his job as an assistant manager at a bank. His plucky but sheltered existence stems from growing up with CIPA, a dangerous disorder that comes with a shorter life expectancy due to the inability to feel pain or even temperature. In other words, Nate lives in a metaphorical safety bubble, and the most exciting thing in his life is his crush on new employee Sherry (Prey‘s Amber Midthunder). When the extroverted Sherry manages to coax Nate out of his shell and sparks fly, it awakens his will to live life to the fullest. That entails risking it all – his life and body- to pursue her when she’s abducted by violent bank robbers.
Sherry points out that Nate’s condition makes him a sort of grounded superhero, having no idea how true her words are when he begins his pursuit, exposing just how ill-equipped he is to deal with dangerous men far more accustomed to inflicting pain than he is receiving it. And boy, is Nathan Caine able to take quite a lot of damage. Since he can’t feel a single thing, what Nate lacks in combat skills, he more than makes up for in moxie and a willingness to wield his body as a clumsy weapon or shield, depending on the situation.
Berk and Olsen, working from a sharp-witted script by Lars Jacobson, ensure each fight sequence is packed with as much splatstick humor and violence as possible as Nate fumbles his way through by sheer determination, even as his plucky nature yields bone-crunching, blood-splattering mayhem that’ll leave you guffawing and recoiling in sympathy pain. It’s the type of movie whose target audience will gleefully cackle at Nate’s groan-worthy means of retrieving a gun from the worst possible spot when faced with a brawny attacker in a restaurant kitchen. Or when he stumbles through a booby-trapped hideout. That Berk and Olsen ramp up the carnage at a steady clip further adds to the zany sense of fun.
Grounding it all is the cast, anchored by Quaid’s disarming cheerfulness. It’s easy to follow Nate down this self-destructive path because of his inherent gentle sweetness and romanticism, bolstered by the natural chemistry with Midthunder’s Sherry. Upgrade‘s Betty Gabriel serves as the tough straight-man Mincy, the cop tracking Nate with wise-cracking partner Coltraine (Matt Walsh). While Jacob Batalon brings his trademark funny sidekick role once more as Nate’s only real pal, it’s Ray Nicholson (Smile 2, Borderline) who stands out as the maniacal villain of the film. The final ultra-violent confrontation with Nicholson’s Simon makes for a satisfying finale, both physically and emotionally.
If it’s not already abundantly clear, Novocaine isn’t a film that’s grounded in realism. Nor is it meant to be taken seriously. Berk and Olsen push the violence and bloodletting as far as possible for entertaining humor’s sake, bringing it just to the very edge of shattering suspension of disbelief. It’s well-crafted with a commitment to as much practical SFX as possible to elicit a visceral response from the audience, though the world-building is sparse and its Christmas backdrop mostly throwaway. It’s also prone to silliness.
But Novocaine delivers on exactly what it sets out to do: deliver a raucously entertaining time at the movies. It’s designed to be seen on a big screen with a crowd groaning in real time over torn nails, deep-fried flesh, and surprise reveals while cheering the hapless Nate on his brutal journey for the sake of love. It’s funny, gory, and oh so much fun.
Novocaine releases in theaters on March 14, 2025.
