“The Call of the Wild”: Nothing to mush over
Rating: 2 out of 5 stars
Never have I seen such an inoffensively ugly movie. This recreation of Jack London’s canine-icon, Buck, is one of the most atrocious CG-creations I’ve witnessed, and yet, this is not an easily dismissable film like last month’s “Dolittle.”
Unlike that nightmare, “The Call of the Wild” is often pleasant. This film is for families, especially dog fanatics, and if strictly recommended to those two parties, it is a decent time. But if you aren’t a kid (or a high schooler trying to skip out on reading the book for class), this will be nothing more than a pitiful parade of extremely cursed dogs (oh, yes, there’s more than just one).
The first thing you’ll notice is that the team behind this actually cared about it.
Tear your eyes away from the monstrous four-legged-friends, and it becomes apparent that this isn’t a badly made film. The director, Chris Sanders, is a veteran of animated features (like “How to Train Your Dragon”& “Lilo & Stitch”), so the man knows a thing or two about giving unreal characters personality. His enthusiasm for his disgusting dogs is endearing.
Sanders is doing his damndest to get us to love Buck, the leader of the film’s pack of sled-dogs, and to his credit, he gets all of his actors to have entertaining interactions with the St. Bernard/Sheepdog mix.
Credit is also owed to screenwriter Michael Green (“Blade Runner 2049,” “Logan”), whose soft adaptation of Jack London’s gold rush-set classic still gives us amusing characters: the boozy John Thornton (Harrison Ford), the delivery-service duo Francoise and Perrault (Cara Gee and Omar Sy), and wannabe-prospector Hal (Dan Stevens, giving a chewier performance than the dogs).
The film is so breezy and likable, it's easy to imagine kids running to read the source material, only to be horrified by its scenes of animal abuse, near-starvation, and genocide.
It makes perfect sense that the human equivalent of a growl, Harrison Ford, would be cast as the lead. His John Thornton is a kindly, grieving old man who just wants to search for a nice place to rest and remember his dead son.
He befriends Buck, and together they go on adventures. This interpretation of “The Call of the Wild” is really that simple; the Klondike Gold Rush barely matters. The storytelling priorities here are to have us watch Buck get into shenanigans, then adapt to his tumultuous environment in record time, and generally be the smartest animal in movie history. Human characters have entire conversations with Buck, and his (sometimes recycled) facial expressions tell us that he’s having no trouble following every syllable. It’s downright eerie.
There are moments of man-to-canine communication that would make Lassie groan.
After a certain point, you accept the film for what it is: a collection of scenes that are neat rather than exciting. The tone has more in common with the director’s animated movies than a live-action adventure with actual stakes, so we never fear for the plastic-looking Buck. Sanders wants us to have a nice time romping with this invincible super-dog, but not enough of the 109 million dollar budget went into making that possible.
That brings us to the most fascinating part of watching “The Call of the Wild”: seeing master cinematographer Janusz Kaminski’s elegant, borealis-splashed visuals clash with these cheap creatures.
It’s hard to discourage people from seeing a movie that wants to send you away with a smile, especially one that is well-acted, appropriate for the whole family, and not likely to haunt you with embarrassment the way “Dolittle” did. But at no point does “The Call of the Wild” give us a truly outstanding moment. Its only real surprise is that it isn’t as horrible as Buck the Demon Dog’s appearance would imply.
Maybe after several beers (or several of something else), Buck will grow on you. My theater experience was replete with kids rooting for Buck, even as an older couple could be heard murmuring, “Buck’s eyes… They’re soulless.” There’s no need to mush to go see it.