By 
Sometimes, a quieter film can generate a louder emotional response, and that’s exactly what we get with the following two films. Jonathan Millet‘s Ghost Trail and Guan Hu‘s Black Dog both tackle serious subject matter with subdued restraint, featuring lead performances that unassumingly carry their respective narratives.
Ghost Trail (Jonathan Millet)
Ghost Trail (2024) – source: Cannes Film Festival
Based on true events, Jonathan Millet’s Ghost Trail (Les Fantômes) is an enthralling political thriller that seethes with tension. As an opener for this year’s Cannes’ Critics’ Week sidebar, the film is a welcome reminder of how diverse the festival can be with its full breadth of programming. This is certainly a standout directorial debut for Millet.
We’re first introduced to Hamid (Adam Bessa) as he’s unloaded from the back of a truck full of other prisoners. Years later, after his presumed escape from the Syrian regime, he’s joined a group tasked with hunting down fugitive leaders living around the globe. On his latest assignment, he tails someone who might’ve been his captor years ago, blurring the line between duty and justice.
Millet delivers an invigorating drama brimming with tension. Right from the very beginning, he manages to maintain a level of suspense and intrigue without ever over dramatizing the actual horrors under examination. This restrained stylistic choice creates a haunting presence that pairs well with the film’s underlying premise. It’s never clear whether Hamid is hunting the right person, or if his actions are morally sound. And even when things are revealed in the end, the narrative still maintains this haze of mystique that blends into the film’s inquisition on what’s right and wrong.
Much of the film is anchored by Bessa‘s fantastic performance, which is seeded with internal rage. It’s a much quieter performance than one would have expected given the subject matter, but works well within the restrained narrative environment created by Millet. The espionage elements of the story do falter due to this subdued approach to narration, but as a result, allows for a much more realistic canvas for storytelling.
The subtle, yet intense, observations on trauma and vengeance slice through with precision in the hands of a very competent filmmaker. Despite not being as much of a spy thriller as one might’ve expected, Ghost Trail is thrilling enough in its own way, and should cement Millet as a talent to watch.
Black Dog (Guan Hu)
Black Dog (2024) – source: Cannes Film Festival
In one of his quietest, yet most impactful, performances to date, Eddie Peng shines in Guan Hu’s Black Dog. This is a film that’s meditative and astutely observational, with much to unpack, both on an emotional and sociopolitical level.
Set in 2008 at the cusp of the Beijing Summer Olympics, Lang (Peng) returns home after being incarcerated for an extended period of time. Within his small rural hometown, government mandated evictions and land modernizations are in full swing, prompting a large number of stray dogs behind left behind by their owners. As Lang reintegrates himself into society, he’s bound to a black dog that many fear is the cause of a rabies infestation among locals.
The film actually starts off with a bus rolling onto its side, before eventually being flipped back over. Hu uses this unassuming event as a signpost for Lang’s personal journey, constantly reprising this theme of finding direction (and perhaps meaning) after veering off course. This is further personified by all the directionless stray dogs inhabiting the city, and a once thriving circus zoo with few remaining animals in cages. Events like a solar eclipse or the pending Summer Olympics serve as crossroads in which uncontrolled elements forcefully demand change.
Almost everything in Black Dog is conveyed through symbolic gestures like this, resulting in an endearing, and totally unexpected buddy drama between a man and dog. And as people are forced to leave, and animals are left behind, the film also starts to weave a socially oriented narrative about displacement. Even though the politics behind the government’s decision to displace individuals like animals is somewhat muted, Hu does his best to at least indirectly criticize those in power.
Peng’s understated performance is also quite powerful, particularly given the more commercial roles he tends to pursue. Seeing him convey such dramatic turbulence with close to no dialogues at all signifies his expanding abilities as an actor. Hu is able to utilize his charismatic stoicism to perfection, and through one subtle gesture after another, crafts a poignant story with layers of complexity.
Does content like this matter to you?
Become a Member and support film journalism. Unlock access to all of Film Inquiry`s great articles. Join a community of like-minded readers who are passionate about cinema – get access to our private members Network, give back to independent filmmakers, and more.
