Therapy Dogs

Have you ever watched a high school movie and been impressed by the fact that, whilst it perfectly captures the image of high school established in movies, it’s nothing whatsoever like the real thing? The gap between who we are and how we imagine ourselves through cinema is rarely greater, and when most audience members are at a stage in life where their identities are in flux and they’re not sure they’re living up to what they’re supposed to be, that can be difficult to deal with. Ironically, despite being created for the sake of drama, that super glossy big screen high school image also overlooks a lot of what’s funny about the real thing. Therapy Dogs sets the record straight.

Is it documentary? Is it fiction? Actually, both elements are present here, and it’s not always clear which is which, allowing for a certain freedom in storytelling which would not be possible otherwise. By making it clear that it contains fiction, it can portray high school life much more fully and realistically without worrying about its stars ending up grounded or in jail. It seems that some strong words were had with director Ethan Eng when teachers discovered that the film he had been shooting was not a short work to accompany the school yearbook but a feature which he was submitting to film festivals – and yet given his success, any criticism must be mitigated by praise. It’s not often that a teenager makes this kind of impression on festival audiences and critics.

As you’d expect, it has quite a few technical flaws. Much of it was shot undercover and Eng doesn’t want us to know what. In one scene, fellow pupils make it clear that they’re not fooled by the old lowering the camera and pretending it has been turned off trick. There’s quite a bit of old-style shaky-cam, which may make some viewers nauseous, but such is the flavour of high school life. Unwise combinations of drinks are consumed at parties. One kid recounts a mushroom trip in a way that’s rubbish enough to be believable. At another point, boys roam around an abandoned house, kicking holes in the walls because they can do. In the school building, kids take it in turn to spread out their arms and hurl themselves face-first at a wall of lockers, for no discernible reason at all.

This is a suburban Canadian school, so life could be a lot rougher. Its most outré moment involves Eng visiting a brothel in a vain attempt to persuade a stripper – any stripper – to go to prom with him. There’s also a wonderful scene in which he and his friends are pulled over for driving with one of them on the roof of the car – and without a licence. In one of cinema’s most Canadian scenes to date, the kids are forced to stand there squirming whilst a police officer asks them to tell him what they think might go wrong in a situation like this.

Elsewhere, the hijinks are more conventional. A kid runs round the corridors shouting, dressed as Pikachu. Cheers break out from a mixed sex group of teens at a party when soft porn appears on the TV. There’s a brief but impressively polished musical presentation arranged so somebody else can make a proposal about prom. Other proposed stunts have been wisely abandoned. “Nobody wants to be in your fucking school shooter movie, Ethan,” says his best friend and co-writer, Justin Morrice.

Though it may look chaotic, the film has been quite cleverly edited by Eng himself, who is always in control of what we see. There is conscious use of directorial technique, such as the gradual muting of his mother’s voice when she starts to talk to him about his future. He handles the pacing very nicely, with quiet moments during which our young protagonists watch firework displays or explore the world through Google Maps, wondering where they will eventually go. The future is a vast unknown, but Eng’s, at least, seems full of promise.

Therapy Dogs screened at the 2023 Glasgow Film Festival and screens in US cinemas from 10 March..