‘Dogborn’: Venice Review

Dir/scr: Isabella Carbonell. Sweden. 2022. 84 mins.

What price survival? Isabella Carbonell’s debut feature confronts two homeless siblings with the prospect of a better life, but only at the expense of those even less fortunate than themselves. Moral dilemmas and desperation clash in a tense social-realist thriller. The modest running time limits the scope to delve deeper into the characters or the subject matter, but this is still a tightly focused, pulsing tale of conscience and conflict.

Packs a fair amount of political commentary into its brief runtime

Known for her short films, including Boys (2015), Maniacs (2016) and Brother (2019) (which also starred Philip Oros), Carbonell has exported the economy and focused storytelling of that medium into Dogborn. We never discover why an unnamed Swedish woman (Silvana Imam) and her twin brother (Oros) are homeless and sleeping rough. We are told that he has not spoken since his return from Syria; she is the one with fighting spirit. In close-ups and sharp framing, Carbonell paints an affectionate portrait of the bond between the siblings — the fond way she looks out for him, comforts him and keeps hope alive. According to her, he is “the best brother in the world.” 

They are offered a lifeline and a possible job. All they have to do is drive a van, make some deliveries and clean the vehicle afterwards. In return, there is the promise of payment, a roof over their heads and a bright future. It sounds too good to be true, and it is. They discover that their cargo is human and the job is sex trafficking. At night, they deliver their “goods” to random addresses. The Christmas tree lights and cosy glow reveal the season. The locations speak of affluence. Beneath the plush trappings of respectability lie monsters.

One of the deliveries is a Chinese girl (Mia Liu) and her sister (Emma Lu). The way the older girl protects her younger sibling can’t help but strike a chord. Can the Swedish siblings stomach the actions being demanded of them — and if they can’t, what are the consequences?

Initially, Dogborn appears to have the social conscience and simplicity of something that the Dardenne brothers might have made. But it also has the sleek, polished look that could grace a film by Michael Mann or Nicolas Winding Refn. Cinematographer Maja Dennhag drenches the picture in neon light and coloured hues. The twilight zone of a city after dark is conveyed in the steel blue of pubs, the blood red hues and mauves of nightclubs, and the slick surfaces of the roads. The neo-noir look effectively bridges the gap between those Dardenne-inspired expectations and the more muscular tale that unfolds.

Swedish rapper Imam proves a potent screen presence in her first major acting role. She has the lean and hungry look of someone trying to survive on the streets. The barely controlled anger she brings to the character convinces that she is capable of anything under the stress of her circumstances. Emma Lu also impresses, bringing depth and determination to her character. She may seem passive and powerless, but her eyes show a much shrewder individual. Carbonell also gives her one great speech in which she berates her Swedish saviour. “Do you think that we are in the same situation?” she asks. “To me, you are no better than them.”

Dogborn packs a fair amount of political commentary into its brief runtime. This is a film that reflects the inequalities of a world in which the poor are getting poorer and the rich think they can do whatever they like. There is real dimension to a tense tale that confirms Carbonell as a talent to watch.