Dan Sultan’s heartfelt screenplay explores grief, love and men’s mental health, reminding us that sometimes the people who need saving are those who spend their lives looking after everyone else.
Discover how actor and writer Dan Sultan’s Just a Dog screenplay explores grief, love and pet loss. Learn how the story tackles men’s mental health, emotional healing and the courage to ask for help.
At just 25, Dan Sultan is already working in film as both an actor and a writer. He recently joined the cast of Greyhound 2, the sequel to the Tom Hanks war film, and wrote and starred in the short film Contract Colin, which screened in Paris, Barcelona, Los Angeles and Courchevel. With Just a Dog, he turns that experience to a feature screenplay.
Some losses change everything. For Wesley Foster, the death of his beloved Labrador, Buddy, leaves a hole in his life that he struggles to fill. In Dan Sultan’s screenplay, Just a Dog, a simple story about losing a pet becomes a moving exploration of grief, loneliness and the courage it takes to let someone in.
I’ve owned dogs of many breeds for over 40 years, and my final stop is two Labradors. To some, that might seem a curse; to me, it’s a blessing. As I read through the script, I found myself emotionally attached from the very beginning. Rather than relying on big dramatic moments, the story finds meaning in everyday experiences that many people will recognise.
Dan Sultan – A story about grief, love and healing
Wesley is a former army combat medic who has spent much of his life caring for others. However, when Buddy dies, Wesley finds himself struggling with a pain he cannot simply fix.
Having already lost his parents, Wesley sees Buddy as his last constant source of comfort. His home is full of reminders of the dog he has lost. Everyday objects, from food bowls to a worn toy, become painful reminders of the life they shared.
One particularly telling moment comes when Rick dismisses Wesley’s grief by saying, “it is just a dog”. The remark cuts deep. For Wesley, Buddy was family, and his loss is anything but small.
This is one of the screenplay’s most resonant ideas. Pet bereavement is a profound form of grief, though its depth is often misunderstood or overlooked. Just a Dog gives that experience the space and respect it deserves, treating loss with the gravity it warrants. The story’s reach extends beyond pet owners, inviting every viewer on a journey anchored by empathy and genuine emotional connection.
A powerful look at men’s mental health
Wesley’s military background brings added depth to the narrative. As a former combat medic, he’s trained to step in during moments of crisis, always ready to help others. Yet when faced with his own pain, he finds it difficult to reach out or accept support. This contrast gently underscores a universal truth: no matter our role or experience, we remain vulnerable and human.
His loneliness and emotional isolation are handled with care. The screenplay explores the pressure some men feel to remain strong, even when they are falling apart inside.
The story also addresses suicidal thoughts through letters Wesley wrote to his late parents. These letters reveal just how much pain he has been carrying.
Their discovery creates a serious rift between Wesley and Stephanie, showing how difficult it can be to talk honestly about mental health.
This part of the story gives the romance real emotional weight. It is not simply about two people finding love. It is about learning to be vulnerable, accepting support and recognising that nobody should have to face their darkest moments alone.
A little film with a lot of heart
At its core, Just a Dog is about what happens when grief makes us feel alone, and what becomes possible when we allow someone else to stand beside us.
Dan Sultan’s screenplay takes a familiar experience and gives it emotional depth. Its message is simple but important: the bond we share with an animal can be profound, asking for help is not weakness, and love can begin to return even after a devastating loss.
Dan Sultan – The Writer Behind The Script
We caught up with Dan to learn more about the writer behind the script.
Dan, what sparked you to write “Just a Dog”? Did any of your own experiences shape the heart of the story?
What sparked me to write the screenplay was watching a few of my peers struggle with their mental health, and seeing how taboo it still is to talk about it, man to man. Everyone goes through a lowest point in their life. The circumstances are different, but the feeling of hitting rock bottom is a shared experience.
There have been some beautifully crafted dog films, but so often the audience is left with the dog passing at the very end. Without giving too much away, I hadn’t seen a film that really explores the grief that comes after.
The idea that a pet is “just a pet” has never sat right with me. Pet owners know your pet becomes a huge part of your life, so much so that when they pass, you’re left with the difficult task of rediscovering who you are without them. Like many others, I lost my best friend, and it rips your heart out in more ways than one. It’s the day most of us dread.
The emotional punch of “Just a Dog” is hard to miss. What got you started on this script, and were there bits from your own life that crept into the story?
I’m always writing new stories and scripts, but this one started when I was looking after a friend’s dog, who’s perfectly fine, I should add! Having a dog around again reminded me of what I’d lost when my own dog passed away, and that feeling stayed with me.
I work full-time in the film industry as an actor and writer, so between both sides of the job I read a lot of scripts. I’d never come across one that sat with that kind of grief, so I decided to write it. It was important to me that it wasn’t all sad. I write the kinds of things I’d want to watch. Sometimes a story just pops into your head, and this was one of those times. I wrote the story in two weeks, and the script came not long after!
Dan, how did you find the balance between being real and being sensitive about grief and mental health?
Now more than ever, so many people are living with mental health struggles. Some are visible and some are hidden, and both can be dangerous. I didn’t want to shy away from the realities of living with mental illness, or the toll it can take on someone’s fragile state of mind. When you’re on edge, you aren’t thinking rationally. Some of us hide in the crowd, putting on a facade most days just to get through, and then suffer alone.
I wanted to keep it real and keep the story honest, without over-explaining: letting the story show you rather than tell you. At the same time, there’s warmth and humour in it, because even at your lowest, there are people and moments that pull you back.
Dan, you handle tricky subjects like grief and mental health with a nice touch. How did you manage to keep things honest without it feeling too heavy-handed?
I think there’s a real beauty in someone at their lowest cracking a joke and making the people around them laugh.
I focused on small details rather than big chunks of dialogue. It’s very much show, not tell, so you discover things alongside the character in real time. Like in real life, some things are too hard to talk about and have been buried for a reason. Stephanie’s past is a good example of that.
As a viewer, I lose interest when a story stalls and you’re just waiting for what’s next. So I made sure every moment in the film earned its place.
Were there any scenes with Wesley that really had you stumped?
Not really, and I think that comes down to the work I do before I write a single scene. I dive deep into my characters to really get to know who they are. That’s how I find their tone of voice, their humour, their mannerisms and who they are as a person.
Wesley is someone who’d keep moving 24/7 if his body allowed it. It’s easier to keep moving and hide from the problem than to face it and work through it. Once I know that about him, I know how he’d react in any situation.
Wesley’s got this mix of vulnerability and bravery that feels so true-to-life. Was there a part of his journey you found particularly tough to nail down?
The part that needed the most care was his healing. We see Wesley start to work through his problems over the course of the film, with a lot of help from Stephanie, and going on that journey with him was challenging at first.
To the outside world, he’s meant to be the stereotypical tough guy. But that tough exterior is just a shell, hiding everything he’s feeling, until Stephanie sees right through it.
Was there a big moment in your film career that changed how you see storytelling?
I recently had the opportunity to be part of the cast of Greyhound 2, the sequel to Greyhound. Tom Hanks wrote the script and, of course, stars in it. Watching a legend of the game work day to day was a gift, and one I truly learned from.
While I can’t say much about the film, I can say that the conversations I had on set, picking his brain about the whole filmmaking process, have lifted my game tenfold, as both an actor and a writer.
Everyone who works in film has a turning point. Is there one moment in your career that really shifted your outlook on the industry or the way you tell stories?
Yes: my short film Contract Colin. I wrote, directed, produced and starred in it, and it was the first time I’d taken on all four roles on a project of that scale, with a crew of around 20. It was definitely the turning point for me.
It went on to screen to worldwide audiences, and it was a finalist in Barcelona and Courchevel. That was a very proud moment for me.
How have dogs—and animals in general—shaped the way you write?
I think when you bring a pet into your life, whatever the animal, it comes with an immediate kind of love. My dog was my best friend.
The way animals communicate is fascinating, and very different from how we do. They show emotion in their own way: their bodies tell the story, and some dogs can be very vocal! That’s definitely shaped how I write. I pay as much attention to what a character’s body is saying as to what comes out of their mouth.
Dogs are at the heart of this film. Has your bond with animals, especially dogs, made its way into your writing process?
Dogs are incredible creatures. You’ve got dogs that serve in the military, guard dogs at home, sniffer dogs. Their versatility amazes me. They can be really comedic too: sometimes, not always, the smallest dogs are the ones who bark the loudest! That range is something I wanted to capture, and Frenchie, the little one, has one of the biggest personalities in the film!
Any hiccups or surprises while writing “Just a Dog”?
What surprised me most was that I never hit writer’s block. The story just kept flowing. The early feedback on the drafts was a real help too: it pushed me to refine the story and sharpen the scenes until every moment felt right.
Getting a script off the ground is never straightforward. Did you face any unexpected hurdles or funny moments along the way with this project?
Honestly, the biggest hurdle is the one every new writer faces: getting people to read it. There are so many scripts out there, so you have to give people a reason to open yours. I put together a pitch deck, had the script professionally assessed, and made sure the work was protected before I started sending it out.
It’s starting to get into the right hands now, and the response so far has been really encouraging. The funny thing is that the most common reaction is people telling me about their own dog. Most people have one or have had one, and that’s exactly why I think the story connects.
What do you hope people who aren’t “dog people” take away from the film?
That grief isn’t linear, and suffering isn’t always visible. People can be very good at hiding how they feel, even from the people they love. That can be dangerous. Sadly, we’ve seen people young and old take their own lives, and I want to help make it less taboo to talk.
Now more than ever, we need each other, even if it’s something as simple as a phone call. If you’re struggling, find someone you trust and have that difficult conversation, knowing things can get better.
In the film, Wesley is at his lowest, with no one around him, and he still finds light at the end of the tunnel, and helps the person who helped him find hers. We’re not meant to be isolated, yet isolation, in young people and old, is becoming far too common.
“Just a Dog” taps into feelings a lot of us share, not just pet owners. What are you hoping viewers who aren’t typically into dog stories will get from it?
The dog is the catalyst, not the whole story. At its heart, it’s about a man rebuilding his life, with a love story, friendship and comedy along the way, plus a few twists and turns. There’s something for everybody: romance, comedy, heartbreak and hope.
But ultimately, it’s a different kind of dog film. Most dog films end with loss. Without giving too much away, this one starts with it. It’s about all the love a person still has to give when the one they gave it to is no longer here.
Things do heal with time, but to heal, you have to work through it, ideally with someone. When you go it alone, you just bury the feelings, and hiding from the thing that hurts most only causes more pain. That’s what I’d want someone who doesn’t usually watch dog stories to take away.
If you could go back, what advice would you give to anyone trying to break into the film world?
Don’t wait around. Watch everything that comes out at the cinema, and learn any way you can: from TV, from new films, from old films. And don’t wait to be cast in something. Go and make work with the people around you, your peers and the people you meet on set. That’s exactly how Contract Colin happened.
Learn from the people who’ve been there before you. Ask questions, listen, and take what works for you. But remember you’re your own person, on your own journey. There’ll be ups and downs, but if you truly love what you do, you’ll just keep going.
You’ve picked up loads of wisdom over the years. What would you tell anyone keen on writing stories that really mean something?
If you’ve got a story in your head, whether it’s a script, a novel or a short story, write it. The best way to piece together the puzzle of a story is to write it. Your first draft is going to be terrible, but then you refine it, and refine it some more, until it becomes a polished, finished piece.
At the end of the day, writing, like anything creative, shouldn’t be forced. The minute something feels forced, take a step back. If you hit writer’s block, forcing something out isn’t the answer. Tomorrow is another day. Relax and just have trust in your process. Everything works out in the end, exactly how it’s meant to.
Make something you’re proud of. Something you’d happily hand to a stranger and say, “Hey, can you read this?” – Dan Sultan
Credits
Editorial Photography by: Sally Flegg – @sallyfleggphotography
Dan Sultan on Instagram.
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