Good Boy

My 15-year-old Shiba Inu, Sachi, will sometimes stare at a shadowy corner or look down the basement stairs at night as though she sees something there. Her head tilts, as if movement or a sound caught her attention. But when I look, there’s nothing there. So, what does she see? My wife and I have joked that a ghost or demon might be lurking, only visible to Sachi because of her enhanced hearing, ability to see in the dark, or some other sense exclusive to canines. If that’s the case, poor Sachi must be concerned that we cannot see the whatever-it-is. Most dog owners have experienced something similar. That’s why the impetus of Good Boy—a modest horror movie from IFC Films and Shudder about a dog who sees the supernatural forces affecting his hooman best friend—is so relatable. It supplies an answer to a question every dog lover has asked: What does my dog see that I don’t? 

The movie stars Indy, who, as the title suggests, is a good boy. Indy is a Nova Scotia Duck Tolling Retriever, distinguished by his copper-colored coat, pink nose, plumose tail, and distinctive white stripe running down his forehead and snout. He’s very cute. Indy belongs to director Ben Leonberg, who co-wrote the movie with Alex Cannon. According to the press notes, Leonberg took three years to shoot around Indy’s schedule, with the filmmakers using treats and sounds to evoke the desired performance. Of course, “performance” is a misnomer, since Indy doesn’t know he’s an actor. Much of what we experience in Good Boy stems from clever editing and a spooky, contextual framework around Indy’s reactions. 

Good Boy’s opening home video montage of Indy’s early days as a puppy and upbringing by his beloved owner, Todd (Shane Jensen), establishes his unwavering loyalty. Todd struggles with some manner of worsening lung condition, prompting him to cough and wheeze. Concerned calls from his sister, Vera (Arielle Friedman), suggest Todd has withdrawn from the world out of despair, and a trip to a hospital reveals a grim prognosis. He and Indy relocate to an isolated house bequeathed to him by his grandfather (horror legend Larry Fessenden), where some dark stuff went down. Home movies show Todd’s grandpa suffered from a similar malady, and he, too, had a loyal dog by his side. Almost immediately upon their arrival, Indy begins to see widening shadows and strange black figures looming in the house. 

The viewer sees what the dog sees, and it’s chilling. Leonberg and cinematographer Wade Grebnoel use occasional camera POV shots to show us Indy’s perspective, but more often, it’s a subjective third-person camera setup, with Indy in the frame and the camera down at his level. Refreshingly, Leonberg avoids today’s all-too-common solution of using CGI to animate the animal. Productions that employ animals or small children often spend hours trying to get them to behave, and though costly and time-consuming, seeing the real deal makes all the difference in suspending our disbelief. Indy investigates odd noises and strange apparitions, recalling countless haunted house movies where someone goes looking for the source of a mysterious sound at night. Because Indy cannot speak other than barking, the movie spares us the inane dialogue that usually accompanies such scenes: “Who’s there? …Gary, is that you? …If that’s you, this isn’t funny. …C’mon, Gary, cut it out.” You know the scenes, and you’re probably as tired of them as I am. 

Although the story remains thin and rather vague, Indy’s presence keeps our attention with his expressive, sweet face. It helps that Good Boy is barely feature-length at 73 minutes, including perhaps the best end credits sequence of any movie in 2025. The production relies on editing to create meaning, with editor Curtis Roberts establishing tension by cutting between a dark room and Indy’s enrapt gaze. Our minds fill in the dread, brought about by shots of disembodied black hands reaching out or grabbing at Indy. Elsewhere, Leonberg takes us into Indy’s dreams, where he seems to receive psychic warnings from Todd’s grandfather’s late dog. These nightmare sequences lead to a few effective jump scares and gotcha moments where our main concern remains Indy’s safety. 

Good Boy is a dog lover’s dream. One shot features Indy lying on his back, looking upside down into the lens—one of those goofy dog moments, among many in the movie, that will prompt an audible aww from anyone watching. And if you’re worried about whether Indy will survive the ordeal, I will tell you: the dog lives. That’s perhaps the most important thing to know—the aspect that concerned me the most throughout. Todd’s survival only matters insofar as his presence means Indy will be well cared for. And while the story doesn’t break new ground, its novel approach makes for an engaging experiment in ultra-low-budget genre filmmaking, an impressive debut feature for Leonberg, and a showcase of Indy’s boundless screen presence.