My Dog Killer
Marek has no real friends except his guard dog and hangs out with skinheads. When his dispirited mother reappears in his life, Marek faces a horrible predicament. An authentic and hypnotic chronicle of a sluggish existence always on the verge of explosion.
A small village on the Slovak-Moravian border. Strangers are not welcome here. Locals seem to be suspicious even of each other. This is where eighteen-year-old Marek lives. His guard dog is his only true friend. Neglected by his relatives, he has found an illusory escape in the company of local skinheads. Nazi without a cause, he blindly follows them, and they train him exactly like he trains Killer, his dog. When his mother and young half-brother suddenly appear in his life, Marek faces a terrible dilemma. Either he will violently explode or he will find an inner capacity for the compassion he is so scared of.
This subtle, sensitive film is not just about racists and ethnic conflicts in contemporary Europe. First of all, it is about wrong choices that, once made, cannot be altered. It is about chances that appear, only to be missed. Mira Fornay captures this state of terrifying apathy in a series of long contemplative shots. Calm on the surface, they are full of hidden anxiety and disturbing uncertainty.
With no music, just natural sounds and real settings, Fornay makes what is almost a documentary portrait of totally lost human beings. The leading characters are very competently portrayed by native non-actors, and their huge contribution makes the film very authentic.