Wednesday, October 27, 2010

Doggie Movie Review: "My Dog Tulip"

Midterms are eating my soul, and I didn't have my laptop all weekend... sorry this took so long.


My Dog Tulip
Directed by Paul Fierlinger & Sandra Fierlinger, screenplay by Paul Fierlinger & Sandra Fierlinger, based on the novel by J.R. Ackerley




I went to see My Dog Tulip at the Kendall Square Cinema last Tuesday. As a side comment, that movie theater is literally impossible to find if you've never been there.... Anyway, I'm dedicated to being an honest blogger and on that note, there were things (more like one that really stands out) about the movie that I disliked. But all in all, I thought it was very cute, and definitely, definitely something that dog owners can relate to. From a dog owner and someone who spends full days working with dozens of canines, I must say that the film feels like a breath of fresh air -- so many of author J.R. Ackerley's stories are so damned on-point. They're just things we've all been through as dog owners.


Narrated by Christopher Plummer in an agreeable and jolly British accent, My Dog Tulip follows author J.R. Ackerley's experiences with his German shepherd "Tulip," an untamable and passionate pup with a knack for barking and causing a ruckus while staying fiercely loyal to her owner. The film is based on the 1956 novel by Ackerley of the same name.


One brilliant step in the creation of the movie is that it's animated. Short of Disney, Pixar and Disney/Pixar movies, I'm generally not a fan of animated movies. However, in this case, the animation  made the movie hilarious, rendering certain situations considerably more gut-busting. The biting wit of the narration and the funny images made the perfect marriage, and I appreciated the difference between the humorous animation (when the drawings were purposely extremely simple) and the artistic backdrops with elements of light woven into in the animation. At one point, there was a landscape shot of a group of sheep on a hill with stunning shadow detail drawn in. It took true skill to create, and added vital visual interest.


The contrasting simple sketches often likened dogs to humans, dressing them up in human clothes and displaying them walking around on two legs. Drawn in clean black lines on a bare white background, these sketches were were lighthearted and easy, imposed between regular animation to add laughs and further clarification for whatever story was being told at the time.


Now, for my primary reason for recommending this film: the author (and therefore Christopher Plummer as the narrator) uses a sharp and often sarcastic tone that I absolutely love. It's my kind of humor, to say the least -- and narrator Plummer executes every line with cunning skill and a crisp dose of smugness. I literally laughed out loud at multiple lines and animations throughout the movie -- the synthesis of funny animations with hilarious lines was expertly executed -- and the rest of the theater was laughing too. This would be my top reason to go see the My Dog Tulip, and it's a major element setting the film apart as an adult-audience movie rather than a family film about dogs.


This brings me to the rather adult part that I was, to say the least, not fond of. When Tulip is in heat and Ackerley is trying to find her a mate, he makes some blunt, overtly sexual observations and tells stories about his dog's mating process that made me truly uncomfortable. While he mentions most of these things in an almost scientific manner, I didn't want to hear some of the descriptions and stories concerning the sex life of his dog, and felt somewhat disturbed that he found them acceptable to comment on. Of course, this is mostly a criticism of the book, because including it in the movie is only a matter of following the book.


But that's besides the point. To clarify my disillusionment: I see dogs as babies. I'm not a big fan of human babies, and in turn I save all my cooing and baby talk for canines. I act towards dogs as most people act towards small children and infants. As someone who works at a dog daycare, I can confirm that most dog owners think this way -- their dogs are their babies. They want to spoil them and coo at them and what have you; they don't, however, want to think of their "babies" having sex, nor do they want to be involved in the process of them mating, even when their dogs are of appropriate reproducing age. Would you want to think about your child sleeping with someone? I hope the answer is "No." The author, however, seems to have a weird affinity for closely observing his pup's sex life.


But moving on, let's look at My Dog Tulip as a whole -- I really liked this movie. The laughs and sharp humor are enough to deter me from letting the sour taste triggered by the above mentioned issue take over my view of the movie. Check out Landmark Theatres for showtimes in your area -- they have them all over the US, so no matter where you are, you can get your Tulip fix. Or pick up the DVD from a rental shop like Blockbuster, or an online store by clicking hereBonus: somewhere in the movie (I won't reveal where -- you'll just have to go see it), viewers get a special treat and enjoy photos of the real Tulip, who is truly a gorgeous dog.

Tuesday, October 19, 2010

Beantown Bed & Biscuit on The Boston Dog Blog: Frank & Fiona


WARNING TO ALL CORGI OWNERS
: Please don't take this first sentence the wrong way.

I didn't used to like corgis.

Weird, right? There was never a dog breed I didn't like growing up, except for these little bundles of weight with giant ears. I wish I had some kind of excuse for this prejudice, but I really can't think of any. In more recent years, I've found baby corgis to be some of the sweetest, cutest little things I have ever seen, so that has definitely lightened my attitude.

But the two dogs who really changed my mind are Frank and Fiona. You all know about how much I love funny-looking animals, and Frank takes the cake by a long shot. With humongous ears, legs the length of toothpicks attached to paws the size of men's Ugg boots, and beautiful black-white-and-gray markings, Frank epitomizes goofy. Walking Frank is essentially dragging a 35-pound sausage along the sidewalk as its casing (his back fat) slides from left to right with the movements of the harness.


If that's not cute, I thought when I first saw him, I don't know what is (I choose to block out the pain in the ass nature of walks with Frank in diagnosing my feelings for him).

Fiona, on the other hand, looks more like a normal corgi, minus the same beautiful coat that Frank has. Both are gorgeous colors and patterns and make me glad I'm not a dog walker on the Upper East Side, for fear an old rich lady would tackle me and dognap the babies for a fur coat.

Incredible markings aside, Fiona, I must say, has completely transformed my opinion of corgis. While her short legs and general heftiness make her difficult to pick up, once I've hoisted her weight onto my lap, she's a fat, snuggly paperweight. She likes to give kisses and chill with me on the couch while watching a movie. She doesn't bark and in all truthfulness, I would be proud to call her my own.


So here's to Frank and Fiona: you made me like corgis.

Wednesday, October 13, 2010

Beantown Bed & Biscuit on The Boston Dog Blog: Chelly




I've always had a particular knack for dalmatians. My mom always told me they were mean (which usually isn't true, by the way), but I loved them unconditionally. In my eyes, they understood me. We shared something, something that defined our identity, something that set us apart from all others, something that whether we liked it or not, placed us in our own painfully different physical pool: we both had freckles.


Needless to say, I was not a big fan of my freckles while growing up in the land of Baywatch babes oiling their perfectly bronzed skin on the beach. I was that girl whose mom attacked her with sun care from an early age. While my Italian-ancestry classmates ran out slow-mo style in bikinis on school field trips without a second thought, I was forced to dive into a 20 gallon vat of SPF 9000 before exiting the car by my ever-careful mother.

But I digress. Dalmatians don't use sunscreen, and their spots have nothing to do with sunshine. Californian dalmatians are probably no more emotionally scarred by their freckle-like dots than are West Virginian dalmatians, because like most dogs, dalmatians are primarily concerned with being loyal and loved.

Chelly will always be loved. She likes cuddling, giving kisses, and is beautifully different. I get stopped often while walking her because her spots make her special. It took me years to appreciate my freckles, but now I love them because it's what makes me unique. Chelly and I walk down the street and we strut our spots.