Director Report Card: Debra Granik (2014)

3. Stray Dog

“Winter's Bone” was an unquestionable success, a small indie that rode critical praise to strong box office returns. It's not every year that such an understated production, without any major stars, manages to snag four Academy Award nominations. Despite the acclaim and the awards, it would seem Debra Granik would take a long break before her next feature. This was not exactly true. In 2014, Granik wold make her largely overlooked follow-up to her break-out film. “Stray Dog” is a documentary, the first feature length doc Granik has made thus far, that aired as part of PBS' well known Independent Lens series. It is still easily the director's most overlooked film.

The stray dog of the title is Ron Hall. Granik met Hall while making “Winter's Bone,” where she cast the burly looking man as an Ozark meth lab drug lord. She would soon befriend the man, becoming fascinated with his life story. Ron Hall is a Vietnam vet, part of a large motorcycle club that drives around the country, participating in various ceremonies to honor lost or missing soldiers. Ron is also truly in love with his new wife, Mexican immigrant Angel. He cares deeply for his family and friends. He has a soft spot for animals. Granik's cameras followed Hall for about a year, observing his life and challenges.

Ron Hall is certainly a fascinating figure worthy of the motion picture treatment. The first thing you'll notice is how deceiving his looks truly are. The image of a bearded, broad-shouldered, barrel-chested biker/veteran inevitably brings certain connotations to mind. Yet Ron doesn't carry the touch guy persona you'd expect from his outward appearance. If anything, it seems empathy is the emotion that guides him. He's constantly offering help to others, asking them how they are feeling. The big, burly guy is even kind of cute in his own way, when bonding with his wife or his many pets.

Which isn't to say that Hall doesn't have his troubles. Perhaps more than anything else, “Stray Dog” is a film about the spectre of PTSD. Ron is still haunted, will always be haunted, by his memories of the war. To his shrink, he admits he's never forgiven himself for the actions he committed, the mistakes he made, while overseas. Though we never see them, more than once, Ron describes waking up from horrific nightmares. While looking through old photos, he pauses and nearly breaks down in tears when mentioning a friend that never made it home. The trauma of what Ron saw and did in Vietnam lingers with him still and influences every aspect of his life.

Yet he finds a sense of solace in the community he feels with other former soldiers. “Stray Dog” is not an especially probing look at motorcycle culture. The only real insight we get into why this form of travel is so appealing to the men comes during a brief conversation Ron has with a Gulf War vet. He talks about how, after experiencing being shot at, that combination of excitement and fear, riding a bike is the only comparable sensation. Yet being among others that understand this feeling is healing for Ron. He helps another vet talk through his traumatizing memories of the war. He carries badges, given to him by complete strangers, to the Memorial in DC. While he is frank about the reason why these war happens, critical of the government, Ron Hall's participation in the veteran community is clearly more spiritual than posturing.

As focused as Granik's film is on Hall's history as a soldier, it's also a charmingly low-key love story. He has such an adorable relationship with his wife, Angel. He's learning Spanish for her, through an amusingly awkward computer program. He, meanwhile introduces her to American classics like pork gravy or chicken nuggets. The two are already acting like an old married couple. With the way she bickers at him, in a loving way, to take care of himself. The two emotionally support each other, in just the manner it is suppose to work. Watching the quiet ways these two show their love for one another is so sweet, so touching.

Through Ron, we also meet his extended family. We briefly meet his daughter, from his first marriage to a Korean woman, sharing the difference Ron observed in how American and foreign women treated military men. Just as you'd expect from a slightly cranky grandfather, Ron loves his granddaughter deeply while also providing constructive, maybe even thorny, advice for her life. Eventually, Angel returns from Mexico with her two adult sons. This addition to the family is not always easy, as Ron has his conflicts with the boy, but watching their ranks grow is genuinely rather sweet.

As a documentary, “Stray Dog” is also valuable for the way it captures tiny, real life events just as they happen. Ron and his buddies shoot the shit on the couch, reminiscence about the old days and the world as it is now. While sitting around the dinner table, they talk about dentures. Food is actually a big part of “Stray Dog,” showing how people come together and bond over the dinner table. Or how about another funny moment, when Angel's sons are confused by the meaning of the phrase “pussy,” which Ron has to then awkwardly clarify? This is what I like about these kind of personality documentations. They are good about putting tiny, impermanent moments down on film forever.

Perhaps the true display of Ron's inner tenderness is the affection he always shows towards animals. The man is surrounded by dogs at home, usually little ones. (Not the kind of breeds you associate with a burly biker.) Ron carries one such dog, a coughing pug/pom mutt named Gizmo,  around with him all over his home. He talks to his pets in a cutesy manner, happily letting them crawl all over him. One notable moment even has the mountain of a man carefully bottle-feeding a collection of kittens. Ron's love of animals speak to his character and is among his most endearing quirks.

“Stray Dog” is another Debra Granik movie that ends abruptly. It seems our time with Ron Hall, his friends, and family concludes just when Granik shut her camera off. The final scene is basically a non-sequitur. All that aside, “Stray Dog” is a touching and fascinating ninety minutes. You can see many of the director's themes floating in the background. But this is mostly a simple portrait of an interesting, lovable man and his life. There's lots of value in that too. You won't regret spending time with “Stray Dog.” In fact, you'll probably want to spend a little more time with him afterwards. [Grade: B]