If you’ve ever wondered what a horror film might look like entirely from a dog’s perspective, Good Boy gives you that rare experience—and it’s surprisingly emotional. Directed by Ben Leonberg and co-created with his wife Kari Fischer, the film transforms a loyal pup named Indy into its leading man (or rather, leading dog). And let’s be real: Indy deserves all the awards.
I saw Good Boy at the Alamo Drafthouse DC—one of my favorite theaters to watch movies at. There’s something about the setup there—the comfortable seats, the food service, classic film photos on the wall, just the overall vibe—that makes watching a film feel special again. It’s the kind of space that really lets you sink into a story and enjoy it without distractions.
While the movie itself is a slow burn—sometimes too slow—it shines in how it makes you feel what the dog feels: fear, confusion, loyalty, and protectiveness. You’re not just watching a horror story unfold—you’re inside Indy’s quiet panic. Without uttering a single word, the dog delivers more range than some human actors could dream of.
The Setup
Good Boy follows Todd (played by Larry Fessenden), a man struggling with a chronic lung disease who moves with his dog, Indy, into his late grandfather’s rural home. Almost immediately, Indy senses something off. He growls at shadows, follows invisible trails, and whimpers at corners of the house that seem empty to Todd. As supernatural forces creep closer, Indy becomes both investigator and protector, sensing death itself circling his beloved human.
The Experience
Watching Good Boy feels less like a typical haunted-house flick and more like a quiet, psychological experience filtered through a dog’s instincts. The cinematography keeps the camera low, close to Indy’s perspective, making viewers feel as though they’re walking beside him. Still, it would’ve been even more powerful if we’d seen the world through his eyes instead of just near them.
What truly carries the film is the emotional connection. Even when the pacing drags or the horror elements fall short, the bond between Todd and Indy anchors the story. There’s a particular nighttime scene—Indy frozen, staring at something unseen, his body trembling—that captures pure dread without a single jump scare. It’s haunting because it feels real.
The Filmmaking Feat
Beyond the story, the filmmaking itself is impressive. Leonberg and Fischer shot the movie over 400 days, using their own home and their real-life dog. Indy isn’t a trained animal actor, which makes his performance all the more astonishing. The credits even show behind-the-scenes clips of how they managed to pull off such authentic moments, proving the production itself is a labor of love.
Honestly, there should be a full companion documentary. Seeing how they coaxed such emotion from Indy would likely be just as fascinating as the film itself.
Final Thoughts
Good Boy might not hit every horror note—it’s more eerie than terrifying—but it accomplishes something rare: it humanizes an animal’s emotional world while still delivering an unsettling atmosphere. It’s slow, yes, but it stays with you, not because of its scares, but because of Indy’s soulful presence.
It’s a quiet, haunting reminder of the love, loyalty, and unspoken understanding that exists between humans and their pets.
Verdict: A slow but heartfelt supernatural thriller that puts its canine star front and center. Indy deserves an Oscar… or at least a lifetime supply of treats.