Are you looking for an absurdist, grotesque, and ridiculously funny declaration about empowerment and individuality in this modern media-driven age? Well then, dear Film Threat reader, co-writers/co-directors Simon Jones and Kaylee Nicholas’s Dogshit is the mixed media sensationally silly short you’ve been searching for, that takes everyday animal excrement and transforms it into the sweet smell of success.
The story charts a day-in-the-life of a highly self-conscious individual who, after battling with the radio dial, whilst trying to finish his shower, in an attempt to hear a little positivity before his work day kicks off, faces his own disheveled reflection in the vanity mirror.
This is, as they say, where the road ends and the fantasy begins. Our character’s mind starts to blend with the radio’s garbled propaganda, shifting into an infomercial state of consciousness in which it is explained the confidence-boosting appeal of applying dogshit as a cologne.
His mind and body fall out of sync as he is sucked through visions of a hellscape in which men are catching the scent of his newfound fragrance and find it so amazing they hammer away (with hammers) at their own crotches in a kind of demented celebratory act. Eventually, our hero rejoins reality, rejects conformity, and begins to apply doggy dung liberally before heading out with a sense of questionable confidence and purpose, as most people gag as he passes.
“…transforms everyday animal excrement into the sweet smell of success.”
With Dogshit, Jones, Nicholas, and screenwriters Joe Bilton, Rhonda Davies, Tom Eccleston, and Esa Shields may have unwittingly created the first psychological breakdown comedy. The fragmented mixture of mediums and the jagged pacing work well in tandem, as the style of the picture seems to encapsulate the lead character’s fractured state of being and self-worth. Stripped-down techniques waltz harmoniously with experimental satire such that if the film were constructed conventionally, this reviewer doubts it would play as effectively as it does.
As performances go, and as our lead character is a puppet, plus the crude nature of the manner in which he is animated, gives off a tonal whiplash, which lends a whimsical nature to the character’s mental collapse. The intentionally unpolished nature of the film’s central figure gives the more preposterous moments and concepts a sincerity that might not exist had the role been filled by a human performer.
A little like a raw-collage assembly of Charlie Kaufman’s Anomalisa, Dogshit is kind of strange, is in some ways abrasive, yet remains wryly humorous, the way it seems to inadvertently but playfully weaponize discomfort, ego, and the silent desperation of having been caught saying something offensive out loud.
Learn more at the official Dogshit website.
