‘Gohan’ REVIEW: A Stray Dog’s Journey Through Time
‘Gohan’ REVIEW: A Stray Dog’s Journey Through Time
Young Gohan (Kori) walking on the beachfront | Photo taken from TMDB
Dogs are considered “man’s best friend” for good reason among many people and pet lovers across the world, due to their loyal nature if given the love and care they sincerely deserve. As a result, there are plenty of other films that often pay tribute to them by putting them in the center of their own narratives, from comedies (think Marmaduke and 101 Dalmatians), dramas, and even suspenseful genre films such as 2025’s Good Boy.
The brainchild of three distinct Thai directors — one of which includes Nattawut “Baz” Poonpiriya of Bad Genius fame, who also produced the film — Gohan is another entry in the canine film canon, less an anthology and more of a sort of time-spanning epic involving the turbulent yet still affectionate journey of a dog looking for a stable place to be loved in an ever-changing world. While one might assume the cliches associated with this setup might permeate and overwhelm all throughout, Gohan not only wears them with pride in a refreshingly low-key way, but it also belies an interesting astuteness that ties all its stories together: the struggle of numerous generations to cope with how the world changes.
An embrace of devotion even in circumstance | Photo taken from TMDB
This is done through a rather straightforward setup: a stray white dog (played by three dogs in differing time periods) stumbles outside of a loose box and loiters around a 7-Eleven store, before accidentally being brought home by an old car worker, Hiro (Yasushi Kitajima). From there, the dog bounces through several names, several caretakers (including a desperate worker (Poe Mamhe Thar) and exes trying to make sense of post-graduation life (Tontawan Tantivejakul and Jinjett Watanasin)), and ultimately, different visions of love and actualization in what it means to be a part of a home.
Throughout three segments which are helmed by one director each (Chayanop Bunprakob for the first, Poonpiriya for the second, Atta Hemwadee for the third), Gohan can find itself in interesting pockets of the expected heartwarming moments, witty comedy, and heartrending drama, mostly owing to the surprising malleability of the premises and tones that the film weaves into its narrative.
It goes from a buddy comedy about the inevitable twilight of a working career with a funny running gag about phone space (easily the funniest and most lightweight of the triptych), to a tense, social realist drama with cat-and-mouse pursuit thriller elements (Baz has worked on thrillers in the past and some striking moments will make you remember that), and later to a bittersweet, coming-of-age reckoning with modern life, befitting from the person who also helmed fellow GDH high-grosser youth dramedy, Not Friends, in 2023. Even in the midst of this surprising versatility, the transitions from one part to another don’t really induce the intense whiplash that it could’ve had it been implemented haphazardly, and the connective tissue of empathy for its characters allows them to both stand independently as distinct pieces and parts of a whole.
That whole is quite intriguing in the picture it paints of its characters, and how their experiences with their beloved white dog have altered or put into perspective their own life journeys and realizations. There’s an undercurrent of attempting to adjust and survive to the whims of the world that highly emphasizes gain and capital through labelling individuals as obsolete, exploitation of people and animals, and the induced confusion and alienation of one’s personal and career-oriented dreams, covered in a snapshot of a near-decade (with segments that occur around 2015 to 2016, the 2020 pandemic, and 2024 to 2025). Gohan strikes a surprising balance between the idealistic and the pragmatic, valuing of both the small moments that can define or drive a person and the greater societal structures that either hold them down or push them towards an individual decision. It might go to some tear-jerking dramatics, but it refreshingly never bows down to inevitable angst.
A peaceful, meaningful day out | Photo taken from TMDB
Honestly, that’s the one word that I can describe Gohan as: quite refreshing, in a way cold water is at the end of a tiring day. It adheres to familiar plot beats yet still is able to repackage and restructure them in quite ingeniously uplifting ways, while also giving the audience exactly what they come and pay for: an adorable dog’s search for someone to truly care for. While there are some inevitable lulls in the narrative due to just how much the directors pack into each moment (and the varied tones and stories will inevitably create a dissonance where you may prefer one segment over another), it is as efficient as a piece of mainstream ‘cry and laugh-er’ as it should be, one that both reflects the modern era we are living in, and one that implores us to continue living in the midst of it, even with its difficulties, with our furry companions.
To anyone who has ever felt strong affection or love for their pet, this movie’s for all of you out there.
‘Gohan’ is now showing exclusively in SM Cinemas through Pioneer Films.
