The blogging of one Erron Reynolds: hopelessly in love with, and addicted to, television and movies...
Saturday, May 24, 2014
MOVIE REVIEW: Dog Pound
Erron’s Grade: B-
Target Audience:
Fans of intense dramas; those who appreciate prison-based stories; films that feature casts comprised primarily of young adults; stories that deal with coming-of-age; foreign-produced cinema (not subtitled); fans of independent films
Plot Synopsis:
From IMDb.com: “Three juvenile delinquents are sentenced to a correctional facility where they encounter gang violence, death, and harassment from staff and other inmates.”
Erron’s Review:
I watched Dog Pound on Netflix. I would caution readers that Netflix lists the film with a PG-13 rating. Subsequent on-line research that I conducted could not confirm this rating. In fact, the most consistent rating information that I could find for Dog Pound was that it was unrated. I know it may seem strange to start a movie review with a discussion of its rating, but if you watch Dog Pound, you may find that it contains much more profane language, graphic violence, sexual images (including rape) and drug use than what is usually found in a PG-13 film. My guess is Dog Pound was never submitted to the MPAA for a rating, but if it had been, I am confident that it would have received an R rating.
That bit of housekeeping out of the way let me say that Dog Pound is a film that I would recommend based on the strengths of its lead performances by Adam Butcher (Butch), Shane Kippel (Davis), and Mateo Morales (Angel). As the film opens, we are introduced to our three protagonists prior to their arrival at the Enola Vale Youth Correctional Center in Montana. Butch—who has some serious anger management issues—assaults a guard at another youth correctional facility and is transferred to Enola Vale as punishment. Davis is a freewheeling, drug dealing teenage lothario who gets brought in on a narcotics charge. Angel gets jammed up for being part of a carjacking (the mechanics of which were particularly inventive and amusing) and assault. The boys quickly form a loose alliance as they are ruthlessly hazed and initiated into the Enola Vale culture. These preliminary scenes contain a slew of familiar tropes from many prison films and televisions series: our new inmates are processed, introduced to their unit’s correctional officer (played with just the right amount of haggardness by Canadian actor Lawrence Bayne), they are moved into their living quarters, eat for the first time in the cafeteria where they are hazed and get to mop floors while the hazing continues. It should be noted that all prison-based films and television series that I have ever seen, including the very best of the genre, HBO’s Oz and Netflix’s Orange is the New Black, require inmates to frequently mop floors. Prisons have the cleanest floors of anywhere in the world. I am convinced of this after seeing countless scenes where they action is mopping floors. But I digress.
The unique, almost documentary-style of the film relies much less on plot to drive the story forward and much more on showing us the various facets of daily life inside the correctional facility. We see how the drug trade functions via the visitors who come to the prison. We learn how a dorm room full of bored (and horny) adolescent males pass the nighttime be listening to the Davis character share stories of his sexual exploits. We also observe the power dynamics between adults who serve as correctional officers and administrators as they are played out. It isn’t until the top of the third act that two violent—and ultimately fatal—events involving inmates take place and set the plot in motion. These two horrific events demonstrate how the barbarism of the Enola Vale inmate culture coupled with the fallibility of its adult staff combined to create a toxic combination. The final scenes of the film depict how the inmates choose to act out their frustrations with their captors and the staff responds to the expressions of violence. I am attempting to be as vague as possible about the film’s resolution, so as not to create any spoilers. Any individual with familiarity with correctional institutions or these types of films and television shows can see this ending coming from the onset of the story. That’s not to say that the film is clichéd, it just depicts an inevitable outcome from a dysfunctional system.
What I most appreciated about watching Dog Pound was the performance of Adam Butcher as Butch. As an actor, Butcher captured both the foibles of late adolescence coupled with a propensity for explosive violence that made him the worst kind of caged animal. There was an intelligent simmering rage that was constantly present in Butcher’s performance and it made his character both immensely watchable and dreaded—not an easy feat for any performer to pull off. Most importantly, I believed that the character of Butch was the product of institutions and that Butch had found his power through physicality and viciousness. All too sadly, it made me contemplate just how many real life “Butches” are sitting in similar institutions while not being rehabilitated but rather turned into monsters. It’s a sobering thought brought about by a genuinely thought provoking film.
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