There are so many arresting, haunting images in Jane Campion's "The Power of the Dog," a western by nature that elicits the repression in many of its characters in 1920's Montana. Many of these characters have something to uncover, some aspect about themselves they want to let loose and they can't or won't. That is at its heart what works best in "The Power of the Dog" but, as it progressively unfolds, I began to feel somewhat adrift by them.
Phil is the rough and ready cowboy (Benedict Cumberbatch, in a fantastically sublime performance), complete with chaps, who has his fellow cowhands on his brother's ranch gathering cattle. The hides are frequently burned by Phil and he is one to get angered by the good times and cheer of local residents because he has something to prove - a manliness so that he appears to be one of the boys. Phil's brother, George (Jesse Plemons, also sublime in his restraint), is the wealthy owner of the ranch who is reticent and repressed beyond belief. Phil can't stand it and tries to push George out of his shell, relentlessly calling him "fatso." Somewhere close in the gray Montana hills is a widowed inn owner, Rose (Kirsten Dunst), who hates Phil and Phil himself isn't too fond of her either. George, however, is smitten with Rose and marries her on a whim, especially after helping her feed the locals. Their marriage doesn't make much sense and as the story develops, it makes even less sense. Rose starts drinking heavily and George is barely around. All Rose has is her son Peter (a truly hypnotic and almost emaciated-looking Kodi Smit-McPhee) who is clearly gay and all the cowboys in the area mock him by whistling at him and calling him the expected homophobic slurs. Peter walks around in white shoes and a white hat and clearly stands out from the rest and he's frequently shown in contrast to those Montana mountains, definitely out of place.
The central focus in "The Power of the Dog" (based on a very personal book by Thomas Savage) is Phil's own mixed emotions about George and his wife, and the attachment he starts to feel towards Peter. Phil berates Rose especially when she tries to play the Radetzky March on the piano while he mimics the notes on his banjo. Ultimately, whether Phil feels sorry or not about Rose's alcoholism or ability to get out of bed, he is more aware of Peter and their relationship (though never sexual though the overtones are self-evident like sharing a cigarette or firmly grabbing hold of a lasso) becomes the backbone of a time where any mutual feelings could not be expressed (unlike the more modern western about gay cowboys, the brilliant "Brokeback Mountain"). Here, everything is muted and director Campion beautifully lays out the metaphors without calling too much attention to them.
As memorably acted and exquisitely directed as "The Power of the Dog" is, the film somehow cast an emptiness in me (the same holds true of Campion's "The Piano" though not with her best work, "An Angel at My Table"). I just didn't feel the sense of loss when one significant character dies towards the end - it just occurs without any real tangible emotion. It isn't a detriment to the film but it prevents it from making us feel fulfilled within ourselves as to how the people in this land have the power to move on and recuperate. "Power of the Dog" casts a spell for sure yet I felt adrift and indifferent by the film's finish, as if all those bottled emotions continued to be bottled up not just in the characters (as expected considering the time and place) but within our perception of them as well.
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