MY DOG SKIP
Reviewed by Harvey Karten Warner Bros./ Alcon Entertainment Director: Jay Russell Writer: Gail Gilchriest, book by Willie Morris Cast: Frankie Muniz, Diane Lane, Luke Wilson, Kevin Bacon, Caitlin Wachs, Bradley Coryell, Daylan Honeycutt, Cody Linley, Harry Connick Jr.
The 1940s have often been considered a more innocent age than our own, but of course those were years of global disaster. World War II, the most cataclysmic of all conflicts, caused the deaths of at least a half million Americans, with the Holocaust forming the backdrop as the most devastating event of the century, if not of all time.
Ironically, though, for those who stayed at home protected by the two oceans, the forties was a period made for Norman Rockwell's paintings of a bucolic America, one in which a single breadwinner was enough to support a family in decent comfort allowing parents to spend Sundays watching the little ones play Little League ball in the clean, country air. Segregation of the races was a fact of life that seemed to be endured in the south by those kept down by racial laws, and small-time harmony was taken for granted. Such is the ideal time for dog stories, of which the great "Lassie Come Home"- -like Babe Ruth's home run record--seemed unbeatable (and still is).
Jay Russell's new period piece, "My Dog Skip," features a Jack Russell terrier (actually six were used in the movie) who is not only a joy to watch but who acts principally as a catalyst to bring a shy nine-year-old boy into well-adjusted young adulthood. Based on Willie Morris's actual memoirs as a young lad in Yazoo, Mississippi and filmed on location in Yazoo and other spots in the state that appear untouched by time, "My Dog Skip" is made for the kids but will please those old enough to remember that tokens of life during a simpler time. Television was not to enter American homes for another few years, and a nine-year-old did not call his buddies on a cell phone to arrange a meeting. Dog leashes appeared to be as rare as a lock on the front door and canines of all sizes wandered about the sylvan hamlets as though they were furry people out for a stroll--occasionally dropping into the local butcher shops to pick up a slice of bologna. It's no wonder that Willie Morris, who at the age of nineteen left Yazoo to attend Oxford University on scholarship and become the youngest editor ever at Harper's magazine, returned to his roots some years before dying in 1999 at the age of 64.
Willie (Frankie Muniz), a kid showing off the most expressive eyes since Jim Carrey's imitation of Andy Kaufman in "Man on the Moon," is an outsider. An only child where five kids per family was the norm, he was not good at sports, and his shyness led only to his being bullied by a gang of three led by Big Boy Wilkinson (Bradley Coryell). Unable to approach the prettiest girl in town, Rivers Applewhite (Caitlin Wachs), he could have gone through life as a drudge in some office--unloved, unsung, unknown--had his mother (Diane Lane) not presented him with a Jack Russell Terrier for his birthday. Though Willie father, Jack (Kevin Bacon) did not approve (for unconvincing reasons), the overprotective dad--who lost a leg in the Spanish Civil War--relents.
In a movie which wisely uses the book simply as a take-off point for key steps in Willie's rites of passage, we see the lad lose some regard for his ball-playing hero, Dink (Luke Wilson), who went AWOL from his army outfit while gaining the respect of the bully boys and the affection of the adorable Caitlin. Not surprisingly, it is the furry little creature who brings him out of his funk--romping about the town, leaping gaily on trees, chasing his tail, and in the picture's iconic moment, figuring a way to leap onto the toilet seat to fetch a drink.
No dog person can sit through this homespun, relaxed picture without shedding a tear as poor Skip is hit with a shovel by a couple of (cartoonish) moonshiners, his life hanging in the balance in the vet's office as the tearful Willie says silent prayers for his canine friend on the operating table. The charming, largely unpretentious, and thoroughly sweet movie is marred only by Harry Connick Jr's incessant and affected narration, not unlike the pseudo-philosophic nonsense on the soundtrack of "The Thin Red Line." Surely scripter Gail Gilchriest could have fashioned some dialogue to make this rendering wholly unnecessary.
Rated PG. Running Time: 90 minutes. (C) 2000 Harvey Karten, film_critic@compuserve.com
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