"Good Boy" Has Bite

Ben Leonberg’s “Good Boy” is one of those horror concepts that sounds cute on paper but can be risky in execution: a haunted-house movie told primarily from a dog’s perspective. Usually, that’s where I would check out. I’m not an animal person; I don’t automatically melt at loyalty montages or whimpering close-ups. If the story relies on the emotional shorthand of “dogs are pure,” I’m out.

That’s what makes *Good Boy* quietly impressive: it doesn’t rely on that shortcut. The film follows Indy, a dog uprooted from city life when his owner, Todd, moves them to his late grandfather’s long-abandoned country home. From the start, Indy senses what Todd does not: this place is wrong. Corners feel inhabited, and strange sounds echo throughout. The house isn’t loud or showy, but it’s watchful. Leonberg understands that absolute dread doesn’t announce itself—it lingers.

What makes the movie effective isn’t that the dog sees ghosts; it’s that Indy senses danger without the ability to explain it. The horror arises from frustration and helplessness. Indy realizes Todd is slipping—physically weakened, emotionally isolated, and increasingly susceptible to the house’s influence—but all he can do is react. Barking becomes a form of protest, stillness turns into fear, and loyalty becomes a burden.

Todd’s gradual unraveling serves as the film’s emotional core. He’s not a standard horror character ignoring obvious signs; he’s tired, sick, and clinging to routine. The supernatural threat feels less like a random haunting and more like something opportunistic that feeds on vulnerability. This grounding prevents *Good Boy* from drifting into novelty territory.

Leonberg’s low-angle camerawork and restrained pacing effectively convey the perspective without making it a gimmick. You’re not constantly reminded, “This is the dog’s point of view.” Instead, you feel slightly off-kilter, as if the movie is always a step out of sync with human logic. This disorientation works in its favor.

However, the film falters due to repetition. At just over an hour long, it circles the same pattern—Indy senses danger, Todd dismisses it, and the house tightens its grip—one or two times too many. Additionally, some moments lean too heavily on putting the dog in peril, which feels like an emotional ploy aimed directly at the audience’s instincts.

Still, “Good Boy” earns its tension honestly. It’s not scary because the dog is cute or brave; it’s creepy because love, stripped of language and agency, becomes terrifying. Even as someone immune to pet-movie sentimentality, I found myself fully engaged. That’s not a trick—it’s a testament to craft.

Final Grade: B+

“Good Boy” is available to stream on Shudder.