Caffeinated Clint
This muddled moral stance is disappointing, because Year of the Dog otherwise finds a delicate and skilful balance between wry comedy and drama. It’s Office Space for people who share a bed with their pets.
Molly Shannon, Peter Saarsgard, John C.Reilly, Laura Dern, Regina King, Thomas McCarthy
Peggy (Molly Shannon) is a 40-something spinster who lives alone with her pet Beagle, Pencil. She has trouble relating to people, even her best friend Layla (Regina King) and her brother and sister-in-law Pier (Thomas McCarthy) and Bret (Laura Dern). Her work and her dog are her life.
One night she lets Pencil out to pee and he won’t come back in. When Peggy wakes the next morning, she finds Pencil in her neighbour Al’s (John C Reilly) yard, poisoned.
Without Pencil, the emotional framework of Peggy’s life collapses. She begins to search for comfort and meaning through a series of new relationships, including a date with Al (which fizzles when he reveals a love of hunting) and a weird emotional connection with Robin (Josh Pais), a worker at an animal shelter who turns out to be celibate and possibly homosexual. As the humans around her continue to disappoint, Peggy finds purpose as a campaigner for animal rights – but is her new crusade verging on madness?
Characters are the strong point in Year of the Dog. Each one is distinct and quirky, and it’s a delight to watch them from Peggy’s unbelieving and sometimes astonished perspective. The acting is also of the highest pedigree, with Laura Dern the pick of the litter as an over-protective mother whose thin façade of congeniality looks ready to crack at the drop of an adult theme. Dern is often involved in Year of the Dog’s humour, too, which ranges from dry to black.
What sullies Year of the Dog is Peggy’s character development. The idea that she is following everyone else’s notions of happiness instead of her own is neat, and her passage from homebody to animal activist is believable enough – but it’s important the audience approves of (or can at least accept) what she becomes. Her new persona, however, embodies all the worst things about zealots: irrationality, sanctimoniousness and a willingness to impose her values on others. Animal lovers will struggle to like her; the conservative-minded will see Year of the Dog as a misguided love-letter to the animal rights movement, lousy with dewy-eyed sentiment and pig-hugging idealism.
This muddled moral stance is disappointing, because Year of the Dog otherwise finds a delicate and skilful balance between wry comedy and drama. It’s Office Space for people who share a bed with their pets.
Rating : 
Reviewer : Kris Ashton
