WHITE GOD It was only a matter of time until the Baha Men’s prophecy came to pass.

WARNING: If you are sensitive about animals, particularly dogs, and particularly the mistreatment of dogs, you should decide carefully if a good movie is worth the pain and potential for nightmares. And the inexplicably titled White God is certainly a good movie, albeit a weird one. It's a little like an alternate version of The Incredible Journey—if Disney went extremely dark, dusted in a trace of Lady and the Tramp hokiness, and then crossed that shit with Oldboy.

Perhaps the best argument for overcoming one's delicate sensibilities and watching Hungarian director Kornél Mundruczó's film is the fact that White God contains arguably the most impressive dog choreography ever captured in a narrative film. This is a dramatized story intended to inspire animal rights activism, and the final chapter is chockablock with arresting images of dogs spilling out of cages, rampaging through the streets of Budapest, and resting in formation. The real-life twin dogs who split the marquee role as Hagen, our pooch protagonist, do such a credible job with the frightening range of emotions required that it's hard to believe they weren't bred for the task. In fact, all 250-plus dogs in White God—a feature film record, BTW—came to the project by way of being surrendered to animal shelters.

But I'm still recovering. In order to say anything at all about White God, I have to think past the ferocity of my wish that any dad who puts his daughter's dog out on the streets—as happens in White God—should have the miserable remainder of his life beaten out of him. I'd also be fine with personally shooting dog fight-trainers in the head. I don't think I'm kidding! These are unpleasant thoughts to have, and if you're prone to them too, well... tread carefully around White God.