Skull and Crown: A Dog’s Revenge

Should you watch Skull and Crown? Only if you have a massive soft spot for golden-age westerns and don't mind the fact that the dog is basically playing Sherlock Holmes with fur.

It’s the kind of movie that doesn't pretend to be high art. It’s barebones, it’s dusty, and it moves at the speed of a horse-drawn wagon.

The plot is simple: Rin-Tin-Tin Jr. watches his human get taken out, and the rest of the movie is just him making sure the bad guy gets what’s coming to him. It’s not exactly Sodom and Gomorrah in terms of scale, but it has that weird, grainy charm you only get from films made in the mid-30s.

There’s a scene where the dog has to navigate a mountain path, and honestly? The camera work is so shaky it feels like the cameraman was just trying not to trip over a rock. It’s endearing, in a way. You can tell they were just making it work with whatever they had in the truck that day.

The human actors seem mostly there to give the dog something to react to. Regis Toomey does his best, but let’s be real—nobody is watching this for the human drama. Everyone is waiting for the next moment where the dog jumps through a window or stares intensely at a map.

I found myself wondering if they just fed the dog steaks off-camera to get him to look at the bad guys with such pure, unadulterated hatred. It’s a bit funny how the movie treats him like a character with a complex moral code. He’s essentially an investigator with four legs.

It’s not as tightly paced as The Big Scoop, and it definitely feels like it was filmed over a long weekend. But there’s something about the black-and-white desert landscapes that keeps you watching even when the plot hits a wall.

Don't expect a masterpiece. Expect a movie that knows exactly what it is. A dog, a mystery, and a whole lot of galloping. 🐶