Feature debuts are tricky. They can be masterpieces that stand the test of time, like Sidney Lumet’s 12 ANGRY MEN, or gain instant universal acclaim like Charlotte Wells’ AFTERSUN did in 2022. More often than not, they slide under the radar as the craft on show is a little rough, with the director still finding their cinematic voice. George Jaques’s BLACK DOG, a feature debut about two London boys from different sides of the tracks coming together on a road trip to the north of England, shows a lack of confidence in storytelling. However, while it may not be that memorable come the end of 2024 (the indie film scene is a dog-eat-black-dog world), there’s a lot of heart to be found within the film’s discussion on masculinity in a modern-day setting.
Nathan (co-writer Jamie Flatters) was placed in foster care as a 12-year-old by his older sister Scarlett (Liv Hill, in voice only). To his sister, it’s necessary, but to Nathan, who is already orphaned, it’s an abandonment. Now about to turn 18, the shaggy but affable Nathan runs away from his London housing, his mechanic job, and his on-off again love interest and fellow foster kid, Kayla (Ruby Stokes). His plan to get to his sister in Scotland is slapdash and impulsive, but it finds a bit of coherence after he stops Sam (Keenan Munn-Francis) from being mugged. Sam, an old school friend of Nathan’s who seems to be hiding a secret, thanks him for it, and it just so happens that he’s also heading north – to Berwick-Upon-Tweed – in his mum’s little blue car.
The two embark on a road trip together, and the pair slowly disengage from their traumas in stereotypical fashion. Nathan’s traumas are front and centre, told through flashbacks, while the script plays Sam’s close to its chest. The obvious nature of the reveal of Sam’s motivation to travel up north is symptomatic of it being a debut film, where a lack of foresight means that the options given to the audience on what could possibly be causing a 17-year-old such pain are limited.
The two young men travel up the A1(M), passing various geographically iconic structures, such as the Tyne Bridge and the Angel of the North, spliced in as indicators of the characters’ current geographical location alongside images of relevant motorway road signs. This approach is an overly simplistic, apathetic editing choice that makes the film feel televisual; these montage sequences play out similarly to how a sitcom from the early 2000s would represent a new location.
The film also attempts to indicate that this journey is time-consuming and arduous, not just to the boys’ mental state. However, this is contradicted by the film’s lack of understanding of British geography. The drive from London to Berwick only takes roughly five and a half hours, and they rest at a hotel overnight, less than three hours into their journey. The sun, not having begun to set, shines bright as the two strangers-turned-friends make their way from the hotel to a beach for a swim. It’s unclear which beach they’re supposed to have found along the A1(M), but confused, clumsy elements around time and location are immersion-breaking and unrealistic.
“Indeed, the script is where everything comes slightly unstuck. It is clunky and unnatural, even if the chemistry between the two is the film’s main strength.”
A strong facet of the film that extends it beyond overly familiar narrative beats is Sam’s eating disorder. His oral fixation on chewing toilet paper gives the character a layer of intrigue. However, a stronger script might have done something with this as this one leaves the eating disorder as a character trait rather than something for Jaques’s film to discuss insightfully. Indeed, the script is where everything comes slightly unstuck. It is clunky and unnatural, even if the chemistry between the two is the film’s main strength. It’s the sort of script that doesn’t understand where and when to pull back: characters declare their motivations and feelings openly.
“That BLACK DOG is still brisk and fun in simple, messy ways means something went right.”
There is a lack of confidence in its characters, even if elements like describing Nathan’s deceased mother as “a perfect ghost” evoke strong emotions. When the script gives Munn-Francis and Flatters room to explore their characters’ masculinity visually rather than aurally, some poignant material is broached. The aforementioned hotel stay results in the boys sleeping in the same bed, their feet slightly touching. The implication that they’re naked under the blanket becomes a way of showing that their mental walls are slowly stripping back, as well as the rote ideas of masculine performance.
That BLACK DOG is still brisk and fun in simple, messy ways means something went right. Even as much as the film’s warts are visible – transitions straight from the television playbook and awkward cutting within conversations – a lot in here feels like prime learning curve material for Jaques, whose next film can be great should the choices be bolder and more confident.