Dare I ask, but who did let the dogs out? Rephrase that. Who let the Doggiewoggiez! Poochiewoochiez! off the chain? Man’s best friend has never felt this frightening. The Holy Mountain was a fascinating experience, but who’d have thought it could be innovated upon? Its openness and loose themes of religion and power are adapted, cut and carried over into the stock footage spectacle that directors Dimitri Simakis and Nic Maier have crafted here. It is the unlikely pairing of reality and fiction that blurs so nicely together. Is there lots to unpack, or nothing at all? I’m still not quite sure, although I do believe Simakis and Maier are having the same problem as their audience. They are messing around on the cutting room floor, crashing ideas together without care.
But stock footage can only take creatives so far. There is a nice ring of hilarity to it all, but the façade and gag wears thin rather rapidly. Their editing tricks and what they wish to do with stock footage is especially fun, but I question how far you can really get with a project like this. There is something certainly ominous about the way Simakis and Maier portray this stock footage. They have delved deep into the archives and found some truly haunting moments. Haunted orchestras underline effect-heavy clips that cut and dive in such nonsensical fashion. If you can be taken away on a wave of it all, then there are glimmers of fun to be had.
It is their use of the subliminal and the divine that makes Doggiewoggiez! Poochiewoochiez! such a fascinating experience. Perhaps it is one best enjoyed with friends, for the silence that comes from a one-man mission into this piece is disturbing. There is no time to analyse anything that comes onto the screen, it is just a strangely hilarious collection of scenes that feature some recognisable faces. Jack Nicholson and William H. Macy show up, and there are surely some famed voices in there. Anthropomorphic dogs begging nameless, faceless actors to kill, or just stunningly strange products taken out of context with unyielding, ominous music, it all comes together in a fascinating terrifying way. Much of it is successful because of how insane the actual footage is. It exists in the real world, and the stock imagery is eerie, but the editing removes some of that awkward charm.
Sickening, maddening, yet oddly entertaining. There is a desire from Simakis and Maier to coax a reaction out of its audience. It does not matter what, why or how, so long as there is one. It is nonsense put to film. There is no coherent narrative or structure and does feel more like a lengthy meme than anything that we could consider provocative or meaningful. There are points where clips are pushed together to make a form of dialogue, but they are towing editing filters and intentional sound glitches. They are on a level to that of a YouTubePoop. Remember those? I bet you wish you didn’t. Perhaps the point of all this is to showcase how futile it is to adapt dogs to the big screen. By the looks of it, the footage is providing many examples of how we should leave man’s best friend far, far away from the camera.