IT IS DIFFICULT to review this film with such unusual subject matter at stake. I love animals, in my way, with my associated prejudices. I know many people who love animals in different ways than I do. Even others prefer the company of animals to people, a decidedly attractive life choice, however unrealistic for most of us.

This movie's tagline, "Has the world left you a stray?" can lead you astray. Have no doubt, this movie explores difficult messages of considerable depth on the subject of stray animals, animal shelters and pounds, euthanasia, commercial food animal farming, pharmaceutical and cosmetic research, and rescue operations galore. It is obvious that the writer cared deeply about these problems, although his approach is a profoundly realistic peek at mildly dysfunctional people detaching from society and choosing radical new lifestyles. He explores the psychological effects of loss and the odd twists some lives take in the process—and how everyone tries to help with advice, fix-it observations and embarrassed smiles of uneasiness.

The marketing approach, however, leads some people to the conclusion they are about to view a comedy. Brad Pitt, Jack Black and other notables thought enough of this story to lend their name and financial assistance. It is no small thing that John C. Reilly takes a key role. Publicity aside, Year Of The Dog is a dramatic story with a documentary twist occurring midway through the film. It is not a comedy, romantic comedy or comedic drama. What's more, if you don't care for TV's 'The Office' style comedy or Saturday Night Live (SNL) humor, this movie will not have any flavor palatable to you, no matter its content. Finally, it is a look at one person's journey—a la slice of life.

Molly Shannon, of SNL fame plays Peggy, a socially inept, but caring woman who lives in a modest suburban neighborhood. She is a secretary at a small firm. She has a strange boss, Pier, who has the more interesting character arc, which makes him a secondary protagonist with Peggy his catalyst. Josh Pais turned in an intriguing performance as a man more socially awkward than Peggy, which says a lot about the both of them.


Peggy has a dog that she named Pencil, because he was so thin when she acquired him, and he had cute mannerisms she associated with writing communications to her with his little paw. Peggy lets Pencil use the yard as a facility. One night, Pencil is intent on something in the bushes and won't come in when he is called back to bed. When Peggy wakes in the morning and begins looking for Pencil in the yard—she can barely hear him, in the neighbor's yard. She finds Pencil lying, unresponsive, on the other side of his garage, and rushes him to her Vet, a trip from which he does not return. Later, her neighbor inquires after the dog and her state of mind.

John C. Reilly portrays the neighbor, Al, a nice enough guy. He's very sympathetic to her loss. She asks if he keeps poisons on his property. He says no, but he would like to take her out to dinner to comfort her, neighborly like. She accepts. After dinner, she agrees to an invitation to go into his home, where she discovers he is a hunter, complete with mounted animal heads and a wall display of his knife collection. She rushes out and across the driveway to the shelter of her home, now empty of Pencil. Alone, bereft, she begins processing her loss. Her adjustment isn't going well.


Nothing is comforting because Peggy has little in the way of comfort infrastructure. She is painfully wretched around people. She does care about them and listens, responding with what she hopes to be comfort, distancing herself, nonetheless. Familiar to most of us, depending on the people and the circumstances, our responses vary from her form of tentativeness to violent retrofitting. Mike White, also of SNL writer fame, makes his directorial and big-screen writing debut with this story. As can be expected, the script walks a fine line between life's poignancies and skewed-to-lampoon portrayals of our vulnerabilities.

Wonderful as animals are, we usually accept their place in the scheme of things. We also know, in varying degrees, how some people treat animals in a decidedly vile manner. Few of us who love animals can countenance the devastating realities of animals at the mercy of our species. We aren't aware of a good deal of it, without someone like Peggy (Mike White et al) speaking out. Antagonized by the cruelties so many animals endure for our benefit, Peggy arches clear out of her timid insignificance to honor her own values, which sets in motion a series of misadventures and confrontations. With human help, she narrowly misses destroying her life. However, she does decide to take a stand, to champion those who cannot do it for themselves.

This odd turn of events is where the film gains credibility and socially redeeming value.

Musings:

Granted, people are not always nice. Sometimes even vicious, indifferent, at the very least overloaded with information and desires to remedy all ills, we are what we are, with all of our idiosyncrasies. Most of us accept the concept that we are social, herd animals at the heart of it, and therefore, need the society of other people. The society of dogs and other animals, although companionable, is not generally considered an end-all for most.

Many seek solace in animals. So what? Example: every day is Xmas to a dog. How can you not love them? Dogs have seen many a person through difficult times. They are unflagging in their attention, love and loyalty. They love to love, to touch, to be touched, to have fun, or sit with their human friend who may be inexplicably, to them, in a stupor of depression. They never act bored, nor do they abandon you, no matter your behavior. You want to sit? They sit. You want to play fetch? They fetch. They don't care, as long as they are with you.