'The Dog Stars' (2026): Ridley Scott's Gorgeous, Grief-Stricken Post-Apocalypse Never Quite Takes Flight
A stacked cast and stunning craftsmanship can't fully offset a screenplay running on empty.
I went into The Dog Stars with tempered expectations for a very particular reason: I've never bought into the narrative that Ridley Scott (Alien) needed a "return to form," not when Gladiator II and The Last Duel were both genuinely strong entries in his filmography just a few years back. Scott has always been a reliably competent craftsman, and this new post-apocalyptic thriller confirms that reputation without necessarily elevating it — which is roughly where I landed too: a mixed experience, the kind of film I respect more than I connect with.
What The Dog Stars gets unmistakably right is its refusal to treat grief and isolation as states that only deepen once civilization collapses: Hig's (Jacob Elordi, Frankenstein) solitary existence at the abandoned airbase becomes a mirror for anyone who has ever mistaken numbness for survival, and the mysterious radio transmission that eventually pulls him back into the world functions less as a plot device than as an invitation to relearn hope. I especially appreciated the movie's decision to land on something sweeter and more optimistic than the genre typically allows itself: after nearly two hours steeped in loss, watching the story choose tenderness over nihilism felt like an earned, gently rebellious choice.
Still, the ensemble is where The Dog Stars consistently justifies its own existence. Elordi brings a wounded, understated stillness to Hig that I found more effective than several critics have given him credit for, and contrary to the chemistry complaints I've seen floated around, I bought every beat of his connection with Margaret Qualley (The Substance), whose Cima carries grief with a lightness that never tips into performative fragility. Josh Brolin (No Country for Old Men) is, unsurprisingly, a total pleasure in this kind of grizzled-survivalist register; I could watch him do variations on Bangley in my sleep and still walk away satisfied. Guy Pearce (L.A. Confidential) and Benedict Wong (Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness) round out the homestead with quiet dignity, while Allison Janney (I, Tonya) makes the most of limited screen time as a genuinely unsettling antagonist. And yes: the dog. Jasper, played across three canine performers, is the film's most reliable emotional anchor, and I confess I'll always want more screen time from what might be the single greatest species on this planet.
Technically, The Dog Stars is a marvel to sit with: Erik Messerschmidt's (Mank) cinematography turns the Colorado wilderness into something both desolate and painterly, while Harry Gregson-Williams' (The Martian) score threads a meditative calm underneath even the movie's most repetitive stretches — the kind of pairing that makes landscape-staring feel purposeful rather than padded, at least in the moment.
However, that technical elevation only carries the film so far. The Dog Stars is a slow-burn that too often mistakes repetition for depth, stretching its point about mourning and solitude well past the moment it's already landed, and the result sits awkwardly between an existential character study and a survival thriller without fully committing to either. The "unknowns threaten our land" set pieces recur without ever bothering to develop the rival groups menacing our characters, leaving even the more kinetic sequences feeling curiously weightless. It's a familiar, formulaic skeleton dressed in gorgeous clothing, leaning hard on the talent of its cast to disguise how little Mark L. Smith's (The Revenant) screenplay actually has to say — proving, in the end, that pretty visuals alone have never been enough to make a movie whole.
Rating: C+
