DogMan Review: Besson’s Bizarre, Uneven Tale Rescued by Tour-de-Force Turn

Luc Besson’s “Dogman” immediately establishes its bizarre, genre-blending premise – a lime-wigged Caleb Landry Jones, clad in tattered Marilyn Monroe drag, is arrested while transporting a van full of aggressive dogs. This arresting opening sets the stage for an offbeat character study framed as an interrogation, with the cross-dressing, disabled Douglas recounting his traumatic life story to a sympathetic psychologist.

From abusive childhood roots that forged his kinship with canines, to his dual lives as a would-be drag performer and Robin Hood-esque criminal mastermind, Douglas cuts a distinctive antihero figure. Landry Jones wholly commits to this complex, multilayered role, imbuing the character with pathos, humor, and an uncompromising core of determination. His riveting, transformative performance anchors the tonal shifts and narrative detours that ensue in Besson’s audacious tale.

Tormented Origins of a Canine-Loving Crusader

Through an extended series of harrowing flashbacks, we learn of Douglas’ horrendous upbringing at the hands of his monstrous father Mike – a vicious dogfighting ringleader who routinely starved his fighting dogs to make them more aggressive. When young Douglas dared show compassion by feeding the emaciated animals, Mike heartlessly imprisoned his own son in the cage with the dogs, branding them his new “family.”

This pivotal trauma catalyzes Douglas’ lifelong affinity and spiritual connection with man’s best friend. After a shotgun accident leaves him paralyzed but miraculously alive, he escapes to forge his own path – one indelibly shaped by the cruelty he endured. In adulthood, Douglas surrounds himself with a loyal pack and uses their talents to conduct a secret campaign of wealth redistribution, sending them to quietly pilfer from the opulent homes of the upper crust.

Yet Douglas yearns for a more transcendent purpose beyond just retaliatory thievery. He finds an outlet and embodies his truest self when performing in drag as legendary chanteuses like Edith Piaf at a seedy cabaret. Donning garish makeup and couture gowns, he commands the stage with a raw intensity born from lifelong anguish and ostracization.

This double life, however, inevitably attracts the attention of a vicious gang leader known as El Verdugo. What follows is a harrowing cycle of intimidation, violence, and revenge – with Douglas’ faithful hounds standing defiant as his militarized enforcers against the nefarious criminal forces threatening their master’s existence.

Besson’s Audacious Stylistic Pastiche

As a director, Luc Besson has never shied away from brazen stylistic choices and tonal dissonance within his films. “Dogman” represents perhaps his most unrestrained endeavor in this regard – seamlessly veering from gritty humanistic drama to lurid exploitation thriller to whimsical fantasy at any given moment.

The film’s grounded realism in its depictions of abuse, trauma, and socioeconomic hardship exist in stark contrast to its more operatic conceits – Douglas’ spiritual connection to his dogs, his contre-courant gender performance, and the gleefully over-the-top climactic siege on his lair. Besson’s ever-prowling camerawork maintains an air of documentary-like authenticity even as the narrative plunges into patently absurd comic book territory.

Tonal counterpoints aside, familiar Bessonian flourishes from past glories like “Léon: The Professional” and “La Femme Nikita” frequently emerge. From the dogged loner antihero to hyper-choreographed gunplay to a fixation on found families and codes of moral conduct in an amoral underworld, “Dogman” sees the iconic French auteur ruminating on his obsessions both old and new.

Yet the film’s surreal visual poetry and bravura set pieces are underpinned by a profound sense of loneliness and yearning for connection that imbues even its most outlandish elements with stark, uncompromising truth. An idiosyncratic triumph of pastiche, Besson’s latest provocation solidifies his artistry as a consummate cinematic maverick.

Extraordinary Turn Propels Eccentric Character Study

At the molten core of “Dogman” lies Caleb Landry Jones’ staggering, enormously committed performance as the tormented yet indomitable Douglas. From his anguished depiction of childhood trauma to embodying both the visceral intensity of physical disability and the psychic transcendence of drag artistry, Jones crafts a richly layered, utterly distinctive antihero.

He imbues Douglas with complexities that defy simplistic psychologizing – his fatalistic worldview wrestles with an undying spark of hope, his criminal ruthlessness counterbalanced by selfless acts of wealth redistribution and protection of the meek. Jones’ talent for locating raw, unsettling authenticity makes his most outrageous moments land with startling resonance. When inhabiting the role’s more comedic aspects, he meets the material’s daffy whimsy with precisely modulated sincerity rather than a wink. A truly phenomenal, chameleon-like turn.

The supporting cast primarily serves to orbit Landry Jones’ magnetic gravitational pull, yielding mixed results. Jojo T. Gibbs brings empathetic nuance to the relatively underwritten psychiatrist Evelyn. However, most altri are hindered by thinly sketched characterizations – the sneering gangster El Verdugo feels like pastiche, while the dogged insurance investigator archetype gets little meaningful shading.

Peripheral handlers of Douglas’ canine cohorts also struggle to transcend functional roles. Yet the real scene-stealers remain the furry forces of chaos themselves, with Besson’s team achieving astonishing feats of dog performance and training that render the climactic siege a riotous showstopper.

Provocative Musings Amidst Tonal Turbulence

Beneath its lurid genre trappings, “Dogman” grapples with provocative themes of identity, trauma, and societal divides. Besson’s depiction of Douglas’ disability is admirably unflinching – the character’s physicality is neither eroticized nor rendered saccharine, instead portrayed with nuance as both a source of anguish and of unyielding perseverance.

Douglas’ queer gender expression, meanwhile, is presented with a matter-of-factness that sidesteps trite clichés. His unapologetic fabulousness as a drag performer uplifts notions of empowerment and radical self-acceptance in the face of ostracization. Yet this thread remains largely unexamined, with queer identity portrayed more as an idiosyncratic character embellishment than explored with true depth.

More heavily foregrounded is the chasm between socioeconomic strata that spurs Douglas’ crusade – a twisted, if cartoonishly rendered, Robin Hood-esque mission to strip the wealthy and redistribute their assets. His escalating class warfare spirals into cycles of ultraviolence that critique and simultaneously revel in the allure of vigilantism in the face of systemic injustice.

Indeed, “Dogman’s” ability to grapple with such weighty subtexts is frequently undermined by Besson’s own indulgences. Tonal whiplash between grounded human drama, splatstick farce, and surrealist fantasy grows dizzying. Douglas’ harrowing backstory and spiritual worldview are juxtaposed with almost fetishistic depictions of baroque bloodletting. A surfeit of half-baked subplots and character detours exacerbate these jumbled tonalities.

Viewed as assertive auteur provocation, “Dogman” undeniably sparks discourse around representation, ethics, and constructions of identity. As cohesive, thoughtful narrative film craft, however, its insights are muddled by a failure to harmonize its ambitions with its excesses into a unified, impactful whole.

Eccentric Auteur Vision Redeemed by Fearless Performance

For better or worse, Luc Besson has once again fashioned a movie completely, utterly, and uniquely his own with “Dogman.” A wildly uneven tonal patchwork that swings from harrowing to hilarious to avant-garde, it captures the French filmmaker’s idiosyncratic strengths and weaknesses in microcosm.

While its thematic ambitions and narrative coherence frequently get undermined by directorial indulgences, the film remains a compelling, stylishly mounted curiosity buoyed by Caleb Landry Jones’ tour-de-force central performance. As an acting turn, it’s a barn-burner for the ages – soulful, committed, and transformative in its embodiment of trauma, whimsy, and resilience.

For Besson aficionados and admirers of singularly uncompromised cult visions, “Dogman” represents a welcome return to his subversive personal sensibilities after a string of mainstream misfires. But its harsh depictions of violence and abuse render it an inadvisable watch for all but the most discerning viewer. An provocative conversation starter, if not an unassailable masterpiece.