‘Black Dog’: London Review

Dir: George Jaques. UK. 2023

An impromptu road trip brings self-awakenings in this British debut, which distills big ideas about masculinity, sexuality, identity and grief through the shared experiences of two very different young men. It is a confident, low-budget shot-on-the-hoof debut from actor-turned-filmmaker George Jaques (TV’s A Town Called Malice), helped by charismatic performances from leads Jamie Flatters (who co-wrote the screenplay with Jaques) and newcomer Keenan Munn-Francis, which manage to hold the film steady through some narratively shaky moments. 

An adolescent story which goes beyond the usual cliche

Produced by Jaques’ own Athenauem Productions, which he established seven years ago at the age of 16, and special effects technician-turned producer Ken Petrie’s 27 Ten Productions, Black Dog also has the support of David Parfitt as executive producer. Jaques and Flatters have been working on the screenplay (initially intended as a two-hander stage production) since they themselves were 18; the inspiration, says Jaques, was the alienation he felt when all his friends headed off to university and he was left behind. The film premieres in London’s first feature competition, after which it should appeal to anyone interested in adolescent stories which go beyond the usual cliches.

Nathan (Flatters, Avatar: The Way Of Water) is about to turn 18 and decides to leave his south London foster home and head to Scotland to search for his estranged sister. When Nathan rescues old school friend Sam (newcomer Munn-Francis) from a violent assault, Sam offers to drive him as far as Newcastle, where he is headed for reasons he does not divulge. While the two lads seem to be poles apart — the swaggeringly confident Nathan has spent his life in care while the far more introspective Sam lives in an affluent neighbourhood — the time spent on the road makes them realise they have much in common.

This odd couple dynamic is a filmmaking staple, but the screenplay by Flatters and Jaques (both Screen Stars Of Tomorrow in 2022) digs into the specifics of this particular situation. The seemingly carefree yet claustrophobic London setting is established in an opening sequence in which Nathan and his mates hang out on a Brixton station rooftop. When chased away by police, however, Nathan has nowhere to go but the dingy garage where he has been an apprentice, and the foster home that has now become something of a prison, a mood underscored by subdued lighting and tight framing from cinematographer Hamish Anderson.

There is also an oppressive atmosphere in Sam’s home, following the death of his mother. His father is struggling, dishes pile in the sink, the dog has not been fed. Sam suffers from depression — the black dog of the title — which has been made far worse by his loss, and it’s a sharp grief he shares with Nathan. While it is a shame to see yet another screenplay use dead mothers as a motivational tool for its male protagonists, the film explores the challenges of mental health with sensitivity. While some of Sam’s behaviour can tip towards the melodramatic, Nathan’s authentic down-to-earth responses act as a dramatic ballast,

When the urban sprawl of London gives way to the open road, the film kicks into gear (Black Dog shot across four weeks in the summer of 2022, with key sequences playing out in Yorkshire and Alnwick, near Newcastle). Away from any traditional authority or expectations, Sam and Nathan’s masks begin to slip. Energetic camerawork occasionally lingers on the expanding northern horizons but spends more time in (or, at times, mounted on) Sam’s car. Blair Mowat’s score runs the gamut from the freewheelingly upbeat to the melancholic, reflecting the boys’ shift from banter and bravado to vulnerability

Hints of a sexual attraction between the two are well-handled, with an intense drunken beach scene filmed at Yorkshire’s dramatic North Landing. However the lasting impression is of two kindred spirits sharing an experience which, though fleeting, may have a lasting impact on them both.