|
|
A DOG'S WAY HOME
Director: Charles Martin Smith Cast: Jonah Hauer-King, Ashley Judd, Alexandra Shipp, John Cassini, Edward James Olmos, Wes Studi, the voice of Bryce Dallas Howard MPAA
Rating: Running Time: 1:36 Release Date: 1/11/19 |
|
Review by Mark Dujsik | January 11, 2019 Look, you either buy into the story of A Dog's Way Home, or you don't. There's little to no room in between those two ways of approaching the movie. This is a story about a dog that gets separated from its owner and takes a two-year trek to get back home, encountering a series of adventures and stoppages along the way. If you think it's a spoiler to point out that the dog does indeed return home at the end of its journey, I would suggest observing at least one of three things: the advertising, the title, or just the basic, family-friendly concept and execution of this movie. To complain about spoiling the ending of something like this is a luxury that's almost enviable in its inexperience. The thing is that this isn't an unreasonable little adventure. It's sappy and unnecessarily narrated by the main pooch and rather naïve about the fundamentals of the natural order of the food chain, but such are the ways of these stories, in which kids (and some adults) have to grow sentimentally attached to the dog quite quickly, have to have every part of the barebones plot spelled out for them, and have to be left to believe that an adorable pit bull mix could become the surrogate mother of a wild cougar. Again, you buy it, or you don't. There are elements of this story that one almost wants to overthink in order to justify. Such is the pure simplicity and heart-tugging nature of director Charles Martin Smith's approach to certain parts of the dog's journey. A talking dog—either by way of narration, as is the case here, or by means of animatronics, visual effects, or peanut butter—should be discouraged in almost all circumstances, though. Is there really any need to know that a dog only slightly understands the talking of the humans around it, and if that's the case, how does that same dog also have the mental and emotional wherewithal to philosophize about the nature of love? The point, if there really is one to be made here, is that this movie might have worked significantly better if the screenplay by W. Bruce Cameron (based on his book) and Cathryn Michon didn't have the dog narrating the whole of its experiences. That might seem like a reach, considering how, in theory, the only thing that makes a cute dog even cuter is if it talks with an energetic, human voice. For a moment, though, consider the alternative. There are multiple scenes here in which the real dog is replaced by a photorealistic, albeit glaringly obvious, computer-generated one. There are also moments here in which the canine performer (or performers, since there's rarely only one dog performing all of the action in such movies) provides something that actually looks like a genuine, reactive performance. Note the way the dog furrows its brows with heartbreak as it looks back to bid farewell to the cougar. One is almost prone to believe that the look, so perfect and emotive in the moment, must be the result a visual effect. We may never know, but if technology can completely replace a dog so that it can get into a big fight with a bunch of CG coyotes, can't it also work in more subtle ways—ways that allow a real dog to appear to emote in such a manner that a voice-over narration isn't required? There are moments that make us think this way, and that's why the movie is ultimately frustrating and disappointing. Instead, we're introduced to Bella, a stray dog, voiced by Bryce Dallas Howard (convincingly doing the whole cutesy-energy act), who has been raised by stray cats and is eventually found and brought up by Lucas (Jonah Hauer-King). By way of a surprisingly convoluted plot (involving lease regulations, a local ordinance that's "like racism for dogs," a villainous land developer, and a determined animal control officer), Bella and Lucas are separated. While temporarily staying in New Mexico, Bella decides to make a run for her home in Denver. The resulting journey is, rather oddly, quite despairing at times, including a run-in with a homeless veteran (played by Edward James Olmos) who slowly dies while Bella is in his care. Such relationships, with humans and animals alike, are immediately intense (Bella has to raise the cougar kitten, because its mother was killed by poachers) and ultimately fade with little or no memory of them. If one were ignore the loveable and syrupy narration, the movie might come across as an existential drama of sorts, in which bonds are formed and broken with such ease that it's a wonder they ever existed in the first place. That the movie even suggests such a reading is a sign that there's something to this story. After all, reduced to its foundation, the story of A Dog's Way Home is one about the primal need for a home, a sense of belonging, and love. The mistake is thinking that the dog has to tell us all of that for us to understand it. Copyright © 2019 by Mark Dujsik. All rights reserved. |
Buy Related Products
|
(for thematic elements, some peril and language)
