🎬 Good Boy Review: The Dog POV Horror Movie You Didn’t Know You Needed 🐾

 🎬 Good Boy Review: The Dog POV Horror Movie You Didn’t Know You Needed 🐾 What if the scariest part of a horror movie wasn’t the monster in the shadows, but your constant worry about whether the dog survives? That was me and my blockmates last night at the cinema watching Good Boy - a supernatural thriller told entirely through the eyes of a loyal pup named Indy. And yes, I’ll calm your heart right away: Indy is safe, no harm, no sad endings, so you can actually enjoy the ride without sobbing into your popcorn. This film doesn’t just break the rules of typical dog movies, it flips the table on everything you thought you knew about animal-led storytelling.

There’s a reason why Good Boy, directed by Ben Leonberg, feels unlike anything else playing in theaters right now. On the surface, it’s about a loyal dog protecting his human companion Todd from creepy supernatural forces that have latched onto their rural family home. But underneath, it’s an experiment in filmmaking, dedication, and empathy. For the first time in forever, the main character of a horror story isn’t human, it’s a dog, with his POV becoming the narrative lens. And let me tell you, as a cinema student and lifelong animal rescuer, that artistic choice floored me.

The Fresh POV: Cinema Through a Dog’s Eyes

Let’s start with the basics: dogs have been in movies since forever. From Hachiko to Marley & Me, the formula is almost always the same. Cute dog, emotional bond, tragedy or tear-jerker ending. We cry, we post on BookTok about how unfair life is, and we promise never to watch another dog movie again until the cycle repeats. But Good Boy smashes that expectation wide open. Instead of forcing the audience into another “watch your furry friend suffer” sob-fest, it does something bolder. It asks, “What if we lived the fear, the confusion, and the loyalty through the dog’s eyes?” That framing alone sets this apart from 99 percent of pet-centered movies out there.

Now, don’t expect literal grayscale dog vision or reduced color spectrums, although I joked with my blockmates that it would’ve been wild to see the whole movie filtered through blue and yellow hues. Instead, the director made a deliberate choice: keep the color grading human-friendly, but let the camera movement, blocking, and framing mimic Indy’s world. The result is immersive. When Indy turns his head to follow Todd, the audience follows too. When he freezes at something unseen in the shadows, we freeze too. And when he faces the unknown, we’re right there at paw level, experiencing both the loyalty and the vulnerability of a creature who doesn’t fully understand the supernatural but knows enough to protect.

A Production Fueled by Dedication

What really makes this film feel authentic is the insane level of patience in production. Good Boy wasn’t filmed in one summer, or even one year. It took three years. Why? Because Indy, the canine star, was never forced, rushed, or exploited. There are strict rules on how long dogs can work on set, and Ben Leonberg honored that completely. Every single scene feels like a collaboration between director and dog, not a manipulation. Indy is, after all, the director’s own pet so the trust and relationship we see on screen is real. You can’t fake that. And as someone who knows how often the film industry cuts corners, I can’t stress enough how refreshing it is to see art prioritized over deadlines.

Indy Deserves an Award

Let’s talk about Indy himself. This dog doesn’t just act; he embodies the role. Watching his micro-expressions, the way his ears twitch, or the way he cocks his head - it’s pure cinema gold. Forget Oscars for a second; Indy deserves his own category. There’s something magnetic about watching a real animal carry an entire horror narrative without dialogue, without CGI manipulation, and without being reduced to a background mascot. He’s not “the dog that dies to make the audience cry.” He’s the hero, the warrior, the good boy. And yes, every time the film whispered suspense, I was holding my breath not because of ghosts, but because I was silently rooting for Indy. That’s powerful storytelling.

Balancing Horror and Heart

Another win for Good Boy is how it blends horror without resorting to the usual tropes of gore or shock. It’s suspenseful, yes. It’s eerie, definitely. But it never becomes so dark that you can’t breathe. Instead, the fear is layered with empathy. We don’t just want the family to survive; we want Indy’s loyalty to be rewarded. Every bump in the night, every shadow in the corner, every whisper of paranormal activity becomes filtered through one thought: “How will Indy handle this?” It’s horror redefined as care-driven tension instead of nightmare fuel.

A Dog Lover’s Dream Movie

As a dog lover and rescuer, my biggest concern with animal films is always: were the animals treated right? And in this case, the answer is a loud, proud yes. No tricks, no cruelty, no forced emotions. Just patience, care, and respect. The film even includes flashes of Indy’s puppyhood, reminding us that this wasn’t just casting, it was a lifelong relationship between filmmaker and pet. That authenticity hits different. It makes the story not just a film, but almost a love letter to the bond between human and animal.

The Student’s Take

Now, putting on my cinema student hat, Good Boy is fascinating to study. It’s proof that you don’t need a Hollywood budget or a CGI spectacle to innovate. Sometimes, the boldest experiment is choosing an unconventional POV and sticking to it with sincerity. The editing, pacing, and framing all reflect that commitment. It feels like a thesis project turned masterpiece. A director who clearly loved his subject matter enough to wait years to bring it to life. That kind of passion is rare in an industry obsessed with box office returns.

Final Verdict

So how scared was I, really? Honestly, not terrified by the paranormal itself but deeply invested in Indy’s welfare. And maybe that’s the genius of Good Boy. It reprograms your sense of fear. Instead of dreading what’s in the shadows, you dread the possibility of losing the loyalty and love staring back at you from the screen. That’s not just horror, that’s emotional storytelling at its best. And when the credits rolled, all I could think was: Indy is, indeed, a very good boy. All dogs are. But this one is cinema history.

If you’ve ever wanted a horror movie that makes you root for survival without tearing your heart apart, Good Boy is it. Watch it, cheer for Indy, and remember: sometimes the bravest hero on screen walks on four legs, not two. And yes, he’s still wagging his tail when the lights come back on.