Latvian animation definitely has a specific type of flavor—though relatively new to Western audiences, last year, Flow won the Oscar for Best Animated Feature. At 2022’s Tribeca Film Festival, underrated adult gem My Love Affair with Marriage unexpectedly became one of my favorite movies of the year. 2025’s Tribeca brings another Latvian oddity along in the rotoscope-animated Dog of God, a hilariously bizarre horror/comedy set in the 17th century Livonian village of Zaube. Co-directors Raitis and Lauris Ābele turn to Latvian folklore for their horny and outrageous ode to offbeat animation. Fueled by garish visuals and lots of graphic nudity, Dog of God casts a witchy spell over the viewer on its way to an unhinged conclusion.
At the top of the film, a blindfolded stranger creeps across a desolate landscape, parting the sea with his chains. Seconds later, some demon monster with an erect penis seemingly shits out blood, and this is all before the man even shows up at the sleepy town of Zaube. He climbs out of a boggy swamp within the woods on the outskirts of town as a snake savagely devours a frog. Upon making a dramatic arrival in the middle of the trial of an alleged tavern witch, he claims to be the “Dog of God.” His dramatic gestures and gruff voice lay out part of the mythology; the importance of this character should not be understated.
As the plot begins to unfold, there are so many red flags that leap out. A flipped over dead animal slowly rots, slipping further into decay as Dog of God progresses. A pigeon craps on a blue chest housing the sacred Holy Straw. A freaky pastor jerks off in the bushes as he watches Neze, the alleged witch, help treat a woman with boils on her body. A sexually frustrated baron force-feeds his wife disgusting foods to charge their tryst, including “year-old calf testicles marinated in walnut oil on a soft, toasted pig ear.” Yes, that nastiness is displayed onscreen, among other gross foods. Multiple viewpoints on religion are displayed, with a questioning young priest, Klibi, torn between his faith and helping those less fortunate.
As the town gets rocked by the arrival of that apparent vagabond, all hell quite literally breaks loose. By its very nature, Dog of God will be a divisive film. There’s a pulsating mass with tentacles that instantly set off an intense aphrodisiac reaction, and despite the tease of werewolf involvement, there is little wolfy action actually shown onscreen. Still, this Latvian animation vibrates with manic energy, atmospheric gothic horror, and stunning visuals. We have certainly never seen anything like it before. The rotoscoping, wherein live action performances are traced and brought to life through a different medium, creates a true standout experience. Bring on more Latvian animation, especially if it continues to be this bold and risky.
Dog of God premiered at 2025’s Tribeca International Film Festival.
