White Dog Is an Unflinching And Powerful Look At Racist Violent Behavior

Back in the early 1980's, Paramount Pictures financed a fully completed $7 million budgeted feature film that they proceeded to tuck on a shelf and not release. Such a bold move rarely ever occurs to major movies in Hollywood but then again, White Dog was not a typical motion picture. Hailing from writer/director Samuel Fuller, White Dog was a movie entirely focused on a dog who had been trained by a racist human being to specifically attack black people and such a premise had executives worried about reactions from all kinds of groups ranging from members of the NAACP to charters of the Klu Klux Klan. Thus, the studio behind Monster Trucks canceled its original 1982 theatrical release and the film would not see the light of day (save for a handful of TV airings) until 1991.

What a shame that White Dog remained on the shelf for so long because what Samuel Fuller has created is something remarkable and impactful. At its core, White Dog uses its violent canine character to explore if racism is behavior that one can unlearn or if it's an irreversible element in someone's temperament and that's a weighty concept that one can practically see Fuller going back and forth on via the actions and dialogue of his characters. Just as Ian Malcolm was used as a mouthpiece for many of Michael Crichton's thoughts on the state of the world in the original Jurassic Park novel, the figures in the plot of White Dog primarily exist as ways for Fuller to explore his thoughts on this specific theme, though the characters of White Dog are far less repetitive and droning than the book version of Ian Malcolm tended to be. 

The lead amongst these characters is Julie Sawyer (Kristy McNichol), a woman who accidentally hits a White German Shephard while driving one night. She takes the dog to the vet to make sure he's ok and sure enough, the pooch is just fine and soon becomes her pet! Over time, she, like so many pet owners, develops a close bond with her dog, but she soon realizes the dog (which is never given a proper name in the course of the story) violently attacks people. While trying to recruit help from animal trainer Carruthers (Burl Ives), she realizes that her pet only attacks black people, a trait cruelly instilled into the dog by their sadistic prior owner.

Fellow animal trainer Keys (Paul Winfield) takes it upon himself to train the dog and reverse this racist violent behavior, which is where the contemplation of if racism can be unlearned comes into the equation. It's a hefty question that Fuller and company examine with an approach that frequently throws subtlety to the wind in an effective manner. Extreme close-ups of characters are a common sight throughout the story while the various individuals in the story aren't afraid to deliver extensive pieces of dialogue that thoroughly explore what informs their thought process on matter ranging from Keys explaining why he wants to find a remedy for racist behavior in animals to Carruthers railing against R2-D2, whom he declares to be "the enemy" of actual animals being used in motion pictures.

Writers Samuel Fuller and Curtis Hanson want to confront the debate on if racism is something that can be unlearned head-on and allowing the characters to exchange such overt dialogue allows this thought process to be explored from every angle in a fascinating way. To boot, Fuller, as a filmmaker, does excellent work creating a transfixing uneasy atmosphere in the piece stemming from both the audience and the characters never truly understanding if the vicious canine motivating the story is some tragic figure, one who was beaten as a puppy so that their hatred for black people could be instilled into them (such a perspective on the character that's frequently shared by Julie Sawyer, who believes there's still good in the dog, leans heavily on the audiences presumed connection with their own pets, a brilliant subtly incorporated way of playing on the viewers own experiences) or just some murderous monster beyond redemption even in the experienced hands of a person like Keys.  

The pervasive tension found throughout White Dog is also heavily informed by the top-notch score by Ennio Morricone, like his work in fellow 1982 classic The Thing, Morricone knows just how to convey a sense of unnerving uncertainty (here in White Dog, such uncertainty is informed by if the white dog character can be reformed) in outstanding musical form. Just as brilliant as Morricone's work in the score of White Dog is the decision to keep the violence the titular white dog enacts on black individuals primarily off-screen. Like Lynne Ramsey's phenomenal motion picture You Were Never Really Here, White Dog is a movie about how horrific violence impacts people rather than the horrific violence itself, so of course the audience isn't privy to the racist gruesomeness this canine is capable of.

White Dog gets a lot of mileage out of certain elements that run completely counter to the very notion of subtlety, but in its depiction (or lack thereof) of the racist violence the titular White Dog commits, it also demonstrates an understanding of how and when to employ some restraint. Similar levels of impressive subtlety emerge in one of the movies best scenes which entails the dog's original owner visiting Julie to retrieve his dog. This is the man who trained the canine to be a racist beast in the first place and yet he's depicted completely differently from how typical American movies depict racist individuals. This man is an elderly fellow, one who speaks in a soft-spoken voice and exhibits calm and kindly behavior in his interactions with Julie and is even accompanied by his two young granddaughters to boot!

This monstrous human being is portrayed by an actor who looks like he'd be portraying a kindly and wise grandfather in a Hallmark Christmas special and that's the point. Like with the casting of Catherine Keener & Bradley Whitford or Elizabeth Debicki & Jason Ritter in their roles in Get Out and The Tale, respectively, White Dog casts someone that runs directly contrary to what our typical notion of what a racist looks like. Racism can emerge from anywhere and from anyone, including seemingly kind Grandpa-figures and seemingly friendly dogs. This absolutely brilliant piece of casting is just one so many ingenious touches in White Dog, a superb movie that may have been buried upon its initial release but deserves be far more well-known and appreciated in the modern age.

A big o'l thank you to the White Dog Wikipedia page as well as sites like The Criterion Collection for providing valuable information on the behind-the-scenes turmoil that plagued the initial release of White Dog.