[Watch the review above and/or read it below!]

A horror film told entirely from a dog’s viewpoint is a cracking idea, and Good Boy mostly makes it work. The hook isn’t just a flourish: the filmmaking commits to low eyelines, obscured faces, and carefully placed dialogue so we stay inside the dog’s experience. That commitment is the film’s strength and its ceiling. What lingers is the perspective and the canine lead rather than a potent story or truly rattling scares.

Indy, our canine star, is a major reason this plays. Calling it a “performance” feels odd — how much of what he’s doing is staging versus instinct is debatable — but the result sure reads as genuine. You can see fear, concern and protectiveness without the film tipping into anthropomorphic cutesiness. Ben Leonberg clearly benefits from directing his own dog; he gets specific, tangible beats out of Indy that sell the concept and keep the emotions steady.

Formally, it’s deft more often than not. The camera often lives at dog height, human presence is pushed to the edges, and the sound design does a lot of the lifting: creaking timber, distant thuds that put you on edge. Those choices create consistent tension and a low hum of worry for the animal at the centre. Crucially, canine peril is handled with care. The film wants you anxious, not traumatised, and dog lovers will recognise the soft spot for the bond we project onto these companions.

Where it wobbles is the backbone. The narrative is familiar and fairly thin: an ailing owner, a creepy house, something not quite right. Once the set-up lands, the middle section cycles similar beats—Indy peering into darkness, alert to things his human can’t or won’t see. Even at a lean 73 minutes, it sags here, and there aren’t many surprises to kick it up a gear. You can feel the trade-off baked into the concept: keep faith with the dog’s comprehension and you protect the spell, but you also narrow where the story can go.

The ending reaches the emotional turn it’s been aiming for. It isn’t startling, but it lands. A slightly longer, more open-hearted coda might have let it breathe.

So yes: the story is slight and the scares are modest, yet the perspective is distinctive, the craft careful, and the canine lead carries it. You’ll likely leave less rattled, still moved, and ready to give your dog extra treats and more pats.