Two smartass Canadian high school seniors and their friends made an ultra-low-budget movie under the guise of filming a yearbook video, and then got it professionally distributed. It became something of an indie and film festival hit. Their blend of cinéma vérité, found footage, and staged shots features some brilliant moments, though their claim to be peeling "the skin off of high school" is as laughable as it is pretentious. I suppose one expects that from teen auteurs and, I suspect that, by the end, they knew that what the film mostly exposes is the filmmakers themselves.
I applaud them for pulling this film off. Director/co-writer/editor Ethan Eng demonstrates a very real, burgeoning talent in taking the odds and ends that he and partner-in-crime Justin Morrice captured and turning it into something that verges on coherence. The film includes candid footage (some of which probably violates somebody's rights) and staged events. The final product doesn't clearly differentiate, so we cannot consistently be certain how real anything might be. A conflict between the two filmmaker friends looks as though they intended something like it to happen, but the emotions feel raw enough that perhaps the scene goes further than they expected
They also make some clever choices. The pair, underage, get into a strip club and ask strippers, any strippers, if they'll be their prom date, with predictable results. Since they're in a strip club, they can only covertly audio-record the dialogue. In place of recorded video they use footage from Grand Theft Auto. This scene gets juxtaposed with clips of actual "promposals" at their school. It's amusing in its own way. However, as much as I abhor the evolution of "prom" from a fun rite-of-passage to an overblown, bloated ritual and the accompanying absurdity of promposals, the kids in that footage appear to be having fun. They're also forming relationships, or making the attempt. It's not clear from this movie whether Eng or Morrice have any actual female friends. Indeed, they go out of their way to advertise their somewhat fringechan status. At one point, when some students refuse to participate, Morrice jokes that no one wants to be in their "school shooter video."
While they're not potential shooters, they record any number of acts of petty crime, from drug use to frequent vandalism. At one point, the police stop them as they turn donuts in a parking lot with one boy strapped to the roof of the car. They get a lecture (the camera keeps running), but evade charges. Of course they do. We're in Mississauga, Ontario, which has a comparatively high average household income. These aren't all spoiled rich kids, but they inhabit an affluent and privileged suburban world.
As they count down with anticipation and dread to the forthcoming graduation-- when they will have to leave the familiar world behind-- tragedy strikes. I have read reviews that express surprise at this staged turn of events. I've taught creative writing and, trust me, it is the standard plot twist that appears in every story written by every young writer who wants to write about their edgy high school experiences. Of course, again, the point is that teenagers made this movie. It wants to capture the nooks and crannies of high school. It runs on too long, but you will remember the times when it succeeds.
Shot in 2018 and 2019 and finally released in 2022, the movie captures aspects of a certain place and time. It may reveal more about the semi-outsider filmmakers than its original intended targets, but perhaps that's enough. In the end, Therapy Dogs is over-rated, over-long-- and strangely essential-- viewing, a flawed but intriguing time-capsule.