For anyone who’s wondered what the family dog is looking at as it gazes intently toward a middle-distance at which nothing can be ascertained, Ben Leonberg’s “Good Boy” provides a supposition. His film is seen entirely through the purview of a Nova Scotia Duck Tolling Retriever and what the dog sees — well, it’s worrisome. The novelty of this approach is elaborated upon by (1) an inordinately clever filmmaker; and (2) a dog. I mean, who doesn’t love a dog?

Our star’s name is Indy, and he belongs to Mr. Leonberg and his wife and co-producer, Kari Fischer. The couple worked with Indy over the course of three years, placing him within closed sets at the family home. Notwithstanding its idyllic surroundings and homey ambiance, their cabin is not without creaky stairs, flickering lights, a basement better left unexplored, and things that bump, whimper, and scuttle in the night.

You’d best believe Indy is wiser to these things than his fictional owner, Todd (Shane Jensen). We rarely get to see Todd in toto and when we do, he’s usually engulfed in shadow. Humans are at the periphery of “Good Boy,” though it’s a human predicament that sets the story in motion: Todd is suffering from an unnamed but debilitating medical malady. He’s constantly receiving text messages and calls from his sister, Vera (Arielle Friedman). She’s worried about Todd’s health and, increasingly, his frame of mind.

Todd hightails it out of the city without giving Vera a heads-up, driving to their grandfather’s house out in the woods in order to get his head straight. The homestead is in need of upkeep — the electricity is, at best, iffy — and the weather is perpetually inclement. As for an apparition seen by Indy: Could it be the ghost of Todd’s long-dead grandfather (Larry Fessenden)? Todd has seen a lot of grandpa after watching a cache of video-taped home movies.

When these grainy videos aren’t being played, the television is either running static or a non-stop array of black-and-white horror movies — “Night of the Living Dead” being the most recognizable. Indy is less perturbed by the TV’s perpetual glow than the spirit of a dog haunting the premises. Mr. Leonberg, who wrote the screenplay along with Alex Cannon, lets us know through deft traversals of the mise en scène that the phantom dog once belonged to Todd’s grandfather. Now you see it, now you don’t, but Indy is attuned to the animal’s nearness.

Todd’s condition worsens and his behavior becomes erratic. Indy bears the brunt of his master’s emotional extremity. As with most horror movies, “Good Boy” taps into primal anxieties — in this case, the frailty of the body — and puts them into a psychological pressure cooker. Mr. Leonberg’s picture grounds the supernatural doings by iterating the bond that can accrue between a dog and its owner. However lousy or dismissive Todd’s actions might be, Indy is there to forgive and protect him.

Mssrs. Leonberg and Cannon’s lone misstep is being overly concrete in their manifestation of memory and illness. Given how adept they are at tweaking genre conventions and how well they employ suggestion, the last thing this monster movie needs is, you know, a monster. Why overstate your case when you’ve got a cinematographer like Wade Grebnoel on hand to bring amplitude and mystery to the play of light and shadow? 

Still, it’s the rare horror movie that is as benevolent in its turns as this one. “Good Boy” is a good movie.