IFFR 2021 - El perro que no calla (The Dog Who Wouldn't Be Quiet)
IFFRHiding away behind the black and white cinematography, there is a core to The Dog Who Wouldn’t Be Quiet that is worth exploring. Had the world ended moments ago, how many could truly say they were satisfied with how they lived? Those few must be regarded with envy and jealousy, not least by director, Ana Katz who subjects audience members to a confrontation of their greatest fears and most passionate desires. Working various odd jobs and finding love wherever he makes his bed, Sebastian (Daniel Katz) is content. Quirky charms and an odd leading character make the most of their time on screen, but there is something a little off. Something that makes for a disconnect between audience and screen.
This is another film that feels as if its narrative depends on enthralling the audience with a slice of life. The Dog Who Wouldn’t Be Quiet is flawed but, at times, is touching enough to break through the expected tropes it chooses to toy with. Sadly, the film comes to life in the moments that have nothing to do with the narrative. When the story is abandoned: when Katz can escape to the barren countryside where touching piano keys and cinematography dominate, rather than a flimsy narrative looking to beckon the end of the world and everything that comes with it. As content as someone may be in these end times, The Dog Who Wouldn’t Be Quiet is discomforted by its own message, shying away from its darker or more poignant moments with animation that feels like the budget ran dry or the pacing would be scuppered.
Even though these inclusions are understandable, there is also a sense that Katz does not have the heart or direction to follow through with harsher scenes. Her direction is solid, and she presents a good eye for the finer details. With exceptional framing and shot variety, there is a chance here to capture the everyday life with all its highs and lows. That never shines through; unfortunately it is not just drama that Katz is fearful to adapt, but meaning too. Desires and longing thoughts are shown through lingering shots, but they pull back and far away from the emotions they wish to display, especially when focusing on Sebastian. Instead, much of the emotional weight is offloaded to other, less critical characters.
As it turns out, following someone who is completing various odd jobs and cropping up out of the blue is not exactly narratively water-tight. A shame, too, since The Dog Who Wouldn’t Be Quiet has some nice moments under its belt. With its narrative weaving away from realism to its own sudden take on a pandemic lifestyle, Katz crafts a film that shies away from its more explorative narrative moments, instead focusing on her keen eye behind the camera. Cinematography can only take an audience so far, though, and when it comes to narrative consistency, there is nothing but complacency and underwhelming pointers that, assembled correctly, would have made a wiser and effective story.