The Good Boy, like A Clockwork Orange before it, raises the challenging question: Is it better for a man to have chosen evil than to have good imposed upon him? The answer to this question ultimately sits with you, the audience, in a movie that asks you to explore your own ethical and moral reasoning rather than seeking to define clear answers.
In his seminal novel A Clockwork Orange, Anthony Burgess wrote: “The important thing is moral choice. Evil has to exist along with good, in order that moral choice may operate. Life is sustained by the grinding opposition of moral entities.” It’s a debate that is as old as time. Society has long taken a moral stance on the behaviours and actions deemed acceptable, and punished those whose behaviour defies these shared rules. Punishment and, more recently in human history, the notion of rehabilitation have surrounded the societal response to those deemed wrong, bad or evil. These moral, social, and ethical discussions are deeply embedded in Burgess’s novel, and, like that novel, Jan Komasa’s The Good Boy explores these themes while also delving into the seething anger beneath middle-class liberal values of rehabilitation and reparation.
Anti-social influencers are a thing, and it doesn’t take long to find disturbing reels and TikToks from people who view intimidation, violence, disorder and control as ‘content’ that grows their sense of popularity and power. Tommy (played by the brilliant Anson Boon) is one of those disorder junkies who bathes in his notoriety both on social media and off it, his young life a whirlwind of crime, violence, drugs, alcohol, and sex. Tommy doesn’t have an off switch, and he knows that sooner or later justice will catch up with him. However, what he didn’t expect was that justice would come in the form of a ‘family man’ intent on rehabilitating him after kidnapping him.
Chris (Stephen Graham) is a middle-aged, straight-laced campaigner whose home, deep in the North Yorkshire Moors, is a constructed sanctuary away from the realities of a violent world, one in which a past undisclosed trauma haunts the family’s ethical and moral norms. There, behind a gated, long driveway, Chris lives with his quietly controlling and depressive wife, Kathryn (Andrea Riseborough) and his wide-eyed and gentle yet nervous young son Jonathan (Kit Rakusen). But there is also a new addition to the family home, Tommy. Chained up in the basement, with calming tapes of birdsong playing on repeat, with only a dirty mattress and pillow for comfort, Tommy will face the demons of his past under Chris and Kathryn’s instruction, and whether he agrees to it or not, he will be moulded into a caring, gentle, and upstanding house guest.
There is a profound darkness at the heart of Komasa’s film, written by Bartek Bartosik and Naqqash Khalid, one that is only heightened by the commanding performances of a small, perfectly cast ensemble. Themes of entrapment and coercion thread through this chamber piece, as Tommy has no choice but to become a part of a family unit built on a highly crafted pretence of normality. These themes are only further highlighted by the introduction of an exploited immigrant cleaner (Monika Frajczyk), who is also taken under the wing of Chris and Kathryne, as long as she remains silent about the house and the newly formed family unit Chris is crafting through punishment and reward.
Deeply dark nihilistic satire runs through this tale of violent rehabilitation, aversion therapy and Stockholm syndrome, with a final twist of the knife that will both entice and divide audiences simultaneously. The Good Boy is a film that brutally explores the darkest corners of human behaviour and the need for both social and individual responses, grounded in shared concepts of justice. Yet it also questions what those shared concepts of justice really are in a divided society of increasingly extreme views.
The Good Boy, like A Clockwork Orange before it, raises the challenging question: Is it better for a man to have chosen evil than to have good imposed upon him? The answer to this question ultimately sits with you, the audience, in a movie that asks you to explore your own ethical and moral reasoning rather than seeking to define clear answers. Unnerving, engrossing, and complex in its themes, Komasa’s chamber piece is a twisted puzzle-box movie that demands multiple viewings.
The Good Boy is now available to rent or buy.
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