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The Guardian - UK
The Guardian - UK
Entertainment
Mike McCahill

A Dog’s Journey review – corny canine caper

Sun-dappled … A Dog’s Journey.
Sun-dappled … Dennis Quaid in A Dog’s Journey. Photograph: Universal Pictures

This dogtainment is the sequel to A Dog’s Purpose (2017), the Lasse Hallström holiday timekiller chiefly notable for its faithful translation of author W Bruce Cameron’s bizarre concept: its onscreen walkies were narrated by a free-floating canine spirit (bearing the voice of Frozen’s Josh Gad) who jumped from dog’s body to dog’s body like Scott Bakula in some canine Quantum Leap reboot.

On a second runout, that USP seems less eccentric, but equally some of the oddball novelty has worn off. Four credited screenwriters – including former Simpsons scribes Maya Forbes and Wally Wolodarsky, upping the poop-joke quotient – merely use that astral projection to usher another conveyor belt of pooches through much the same cornily conservative scenarios the studios churned out in Rin Tin Tin’s heyday.

Only its restlessness feels novel, tailored as it is to wet-nosed viewers made distractible by hours of scrolling through floof-centric Instagram feeds. Bailey, spirit Gad’s ultimate canine destination the first time round, has settled down on the ever work-shirted Dennis Quaid’s perpetually sun-dappled farm, yet – tissues at the ready – he hasn’t long for this world. Our spirit guide must thus find his way back in another form, an odyssey that entails shepherding Quaid’s songbird granddaughter Clarity Jane (Kathryn Prescott) away from Glow’s Betty Gilpin, marked as a Bad Mother by her tendency to liberally decant pinot grigio in the hours before sundown.

Any cheap tears can be attributed to the way Cameron’s writing rubs up against earthlier experiences: seeing out thunderstorms alongside your pet, sudden health crises, ominous visits from the vet. (The finale goes full-blown Six Feet Under, with Mark Isham’s score shamelessly recycling Sia’s Breathe Me.) Yet, as signalled by one character’s cursory cancer treatment, there’s nothing much for the human performers to sink their teeth into. Quaid eventually succumbs to comical old-age latex, having long ceded the screen to the slobbering selling points.

By their very nature, dog lovers may be more forgiving and enthusiastic, but much of it is reaction shots of trained mutts, right through to the closing-credit snapshots of the crew’s Forever Friends, this movie is almost literally all puppy eyes.

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