Screen 'Marley' lacks real bite
By Bruce R. Millerbmiller@siouxcityjournal.com | Posted: Friday, January 02, 2009
If the book version of "Marley & Me" was such a hit, why is the movie edition such a dog?
Filled with more dead ends than a cul-de-sac, the Jennifer Aniston/Owen Wilson movie isn't sure what it wants to be. Is this a contemporary version of "Revolutionary Road"? A suburban look at "The Paper"? Or a kinder, gentler "Old Yeller"?
Clearly, there's a whole lot of "Beethoven" and "Turner and Hooch" in the story of a mischievous mutt who manages to stay in his owners' good graces. But that story gets sidetracked once Aniston gives birth and has problems dealing with kids, home and a dog that doesn't listen. She hints at postpartum depression and the film almost takes a sharp left turn. Then Director David Frankel starts toying with a subplot about Wilson's job. He's a columnist at a Florida newspaper who's given a chance to be a reporter in Philadelphia. Wrestling with the decision (though it seems like a no-brainer), he steals the focus momentarily, then gives it back to the dog when he gets a little long in the tooth.
The dog, that is.
By the time Marley experiences walking problems, it's a fast slide to euthanasia.
Clearly, Frankel knows how to wring tears from his audience. The last 10 minutes beg for Kleenex. But the stuff that comes before it? Sheesh. It's as bad as Marley peeing on the furniture.
Start with the script: Alan Arkin is Wilson's gruff editor in Florida. He offers him a column (he only has to write two days a week) at twice his current salary. What newspaper does that?
Add in the acting: Kathleen Turner appears as an obedience teacher who can't get anywhere with Marley. Instead of listening to what she says you focus on how she looks. When Marley attacks her, you wonder if he's flashing back to "Body Heat." Why she's here is anyone's guess.
Eric Dane (McSteamy from "Grey's Anatomy") is a fellow reporter, but he never carries a notebook and always seems to be hitting on women while covering international news. He's supposed to serve as counterpoint to Wilson, but why?
Then, there's the "& Me" part -- Wilson. Because we never get to see what he writes (or hear the words), we're not quite sure what it is that makes him such a treasure. Wilson is bland as an actor and hardly the craftsman able to jump from high humor to instant tragedy. When a neighbor is stabbed in her driveway, he can't make the emotional transition. When Marley has his first health scare, he's as clueless as we are.
Aniston looks great but doesn't stake much of a claim to her portion of Marley's story. She's just "the wife of."
That leaves the dog, a cute Labrador retriever. Most of his scenes are filled with mayhem. He wrecks everything, chews anything. Most folks hate him. Which begs the question -- Why don't his owners do something? "Marley & Me" needs some shots of love -- Marley earning his spot in the family. When he's just causing trouble, we have no reason to root for him. If he played with the kids or comforted Aniston, the outpouring of love at his funeral might make sense.
The film doesn't. It's an adaptation that needed more than a little paper-training.
Rated PG, "Marley & Me" features some adult talk.
On a scale of four stars, "Marley & Me" gets:
1 star
Filled with more dead ends than a cul-de-sac, the Jennifer Aniston/Owen Wilson movie isn't sure what it wants to be. Is this a contemporary version of "Revolutionary Road"? A suburban look at "The Paper"? Or a kinder, gentler "Old Yeller"?
Clearly, there's a whole lot of "Beethoven" and "Turner and Hooch" in the story of a mischievous mutt who manages to stay in his owners' good graces. But that story gets sidetracked once Aniston gives birth and has problems dealing with kids, home and a dog that doesn't listen. She hints at postpartum depression and the film almost takes a sharp left turn. Then Director David Frankel starts toying with a subplot about Wilson's job. He's a columnist at a Florida newspaper who's given a chance to be a reporter in Philadelphia. Wrestling with the decision (though it seems like a no-brainer), he steals the focus momentarily, then gives it back to the dog when he gets a little long in the tooth.
The dog, that is.
By the time Marley experiences walking problems, it's a fast slide to euthanasia.
Clearly, Frankel knows how to wring tears from his audience. The last 10 minutes beg for Kleenex. But the stuff that comes before it? Sheesh. It's as bad as Marley peeing on the furniture.
Start with the script: Alan Arkin is Wilson's gruff editor in Florida. He offers him a column (he only has to write two days a week) at twice his current salary. What newspaper does that?
Add in the acting: Kathleen Turner appears as an obedience teacher who can't get anywhere with Marley. Instead of listening to what she says you focus on how she looks. When Marley attacks her, you wonder if he's flashing back to "Body Heat." Why she's here is anyone's guess.
Eric Dane (McSteamy from "Grey's Anatomy") is a fellow reporter, but he never carries a notebook and always seems to be hitting on women while covering international news. He's supposed to serve as counterpoint to Wilson, but why?
Then, there's the "& Me" part -- Wilson. Because we never get to see what he writes (or hear the words), we're not quite sure what it is that makes him such a treasure. Wilson is bland as an actor and hardly the craftsman able to jump from high humor to instant tragedy. When a neighbor is stabbed in her driveway, he can't make the emotional transition. When Marley has his first health scare, he's as clueless as we are.
Aniston looks great but doesn't stake much of a claim to her portion of Marley's story. She's just "the wife of."
That leaves the dog, a cute Labrador retriever. Most of his scenes are filled with mayhem. He wrecks everything, chews anything. Most folks hate him. Which begs the question -- Why don't his owners do something? "Marley & Me" needs some shots of love -- Marley earning his spot in the family. When he's just causing trouble, we have no reason to root for him. If he played with the kids or comforted Aniston, the outpouring of love at his funeral might make sense.
The film doesn't. It's an adaptation that needed more than a little paper-training.
Rated PG, "Marley & Me" features some adult talk.
On a scale of four stars, "Marley & Me" gets:
1 star
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