Not wanting to run into the same issues as last week (delay in watching the movie/head cold from Hell), in which I watched Razorback and wrote the column in a span of roughly 24 hours I made plans this week to attend a midnight screening of A Boy and His Dog, and of course, those plans inevitably fell through. But luckily I had a backup plan in place for when my frontdown plan fell apart, and I was able to watch the film just a few days later and well in advance of my self-imposed deadline. Now, in an attempt to have everything written before I move on Monday, I am writing this on the holiest day of the year, my birthday.
My birthday has already gone quite well, as I received my primary gift from my girlfriend several days earlier. That gift being V: The Complete Series. I hadn’t watched the television show since it first aired 24 years ago and was pleasantly surprised to find it held up far better then I could have possibly hoped for, leading me to immerse myself in the DVD set. Then today I was given another surprisingly pleasant gift, that of weather so nice that I almost didn’t need my winter coat!
But, of course, this run of perfection would not last forever. Today also marked the scheduled weekly appearance of one of our schizophrenic patrons. She’s nice enough and she means well but that doesn’t change the fact that she’s is completely convinced that people are living behind her computer screen and they are transforming her face with every word she types. I know this because every time she comes in she corners me and proceeds to tell me the latest horrible event that has happened to her.
Today, for example, she picked up a DVD of The Painted Veil and began to tell me how she used to look like Naomi Watts, with long flowing blonde hair, red lips, and blue eyes. Problem was the DVD case she picked up was just a stand-in we use, and the cover was a black and white photo. But from the way she was talking I was unsure if she was actually registering that the image was in black and white. Then she began to tell me how her father had olive hair like my beard, and that is when I knew she saw a completely different reality then I did. I was simultaneously saddened and creeped out by this. She lives in a world that was completely foreign to me, and one I would never be able to understand or ever live in.
Which leads me to this rather somber and clumsy transition into discussing A Boy and His Dog. A film that also exists in a world struggling to survive the after effects of a horrible tragedy, but in this case it is World War IV, not a psychological disorder. A world where nearly every woman was killed during the nuclear attacks on major cities while the soldiers were fighting on the front lines. Where roaming bands of humans search the sparse landscape looking for food to eat and women to rape. A world where illiteracy and ignorance reign, but a boy can still telepathically talk to his dog.
Vic (Don Johnson) roams the barren wastelands accompanied by his dog Blood (Tim McIntire), an animal far more intelligent and belligerent then he. And while Blood’s primary task is to find females for Vic to rape, that doesn’t stop Blood from trying to educate Vic in the hopes they might one day go in search of “Over the Hill”, the far off and forgotten barrier that legend says leads back to civilization.
But along the way Vic’s loins prove to have more pull then Blood’s brains, as Vic becomes obsessed with a young woman named Quille June Holmes (Susanne Benton), and follows her to the downunder civilization Topeka in the hopes of finding her. Vic abandons Blood to head into the underworld, only to discover that Topeka is a world of perceived order that merely covers the bloated madness of all who live there. It is then that the committee that runs Topeka (headed by Jason Robards) captures Vic and informs hims of their plan to harvest his semen in order to impregnate the women of Topeka, and help prevent genetic inbreeding.
But Quille June Holmes and some of the younger members of Topeka have other plans for Vic. They free him and try to enlist him to kill the committee members and their android bodyguard Michael (Hal Baylor) so that Quille June Holmes may take over control of the committee and run Topeka however she chooses.
To classify A Boy and His Dog as nucking futz is putting it lightly. A Boy and His Dog bathes in its depravity and psychosis, often times to hilarious effect. But A Boy and His Dog also struggles with pacing. The first half grossly limps along, rarely giving much information on what is occurring and why, only providing the occasional set piece to provide a way for Vic and Blood to prove how reliant on each other they are, whether it be in finding food, shelter or women.
And while the story struggles early in the film, once Vic enters Topeka all bets are off. The chaotic and haphazard storytelling actually works much better in the frenzied atmosphere of Topeka where nothing is at it seems. Topeka is an established counteraction to the lack of society up above. Order is ruthlessly pursued through the summary execution of anyone who shows any inkling of disobeying even the smallest rule, or if they show far too much ambition in following their own way of life. But the banal bureaucracy of the proceedings that results in the arbitrary deaths of anyone who crosses the committee is handled with such irreverence it is remarkably memorable.
But while A Boy and His Dog may struggle to keep things memorable, it does offer up a spectacular character in Blood. An animal that is so highly evolved he can barely stand the company of most humans, yet who deeply cares about Vic. While the humans are racing about robbing and raping each other, Blood is the one creature that shows any compassion or care for anyone else, even if it is for someone as seemingly hopeless in Vic. And as much as Blood would deny it, he’s the most human of any creature in the film.
A Boy and His Dog is far from a perfect film, and its faults are great enough that it is never able to overcome them, but A Boy and His Dog offers up an intriguing view of society, and an almost cathartic sense of self-worth. A Boy and His Dog may not always succeed, but it makes sure that it won’t be an easy film to forget.
