White God

In the pre-credit sequence of Hungarian director Kornel Mundruczo’s elegant, strange and rousing feature, teenage girl Lili (Zsofia Psotta) is cycling through the abandoned streets of Budapest, with hundreds of hounds in her wake. Whether they’re hunting her or following her is unclear. What does become apparent is that Lili is a lone wolf girl, without a pack of her own. As an animal uprising becomes an allegory for racial and class oppression, Mundrucozo manages to blend the personal with the political, as superb editing, canine POV shots and incredible choreography inject this parable with a complex and perfectly realised psychology.
Echoes of eugenics and segregation linger in the film’s premise, which sees an intolerant society imposing harsh laws against mongrels, and tearing Lili away from her beloved pet Hagen. Abandoned on a highway, inducted into a dog-fighting ring and eventually masterminding a mass prison-break from the city dog pound, Hagen becomes the leader of a furry four-legged roaring rebellion – all paralleling Lili’s own struggles against controlling forces.
Cinematographer Marcell Rev dynamically captures Hagen’s perspective, and as his army of allies grows, the haunting images of dogs overtaking the streets is reminiscent of The Birds and Planet Of The Apes. The film would be a triumph for its effective use of real animals alone; the fact they’re imbued with more personality, motive and intricate relationships than Andy Serkis’ motion-capture performances is truly breath-taking.