If everything old is new again, as the saying goes, than the version of Lassie that opens today is one of the freshest films in theaters. I don’t know that such a claim is actually true, but to continue the old cliche, this Lassie certainly does have legs. (I’m sorry.) However, to film biz observers, the most interesting thing about this Lassie will be seeing what kind of response it gets from it’s target audience — mothers and their pre-teen (at best) children — in a world where slow, plodding, grand, sentimental family films don’t really exist anymore. Not only is filmmaker Charles Sturridge’s treatment of the material a straight adaptation of Eric Knight’s original 1938 short story, but it resembles the old-fashioned family films of the ’40s through the ’70s both in style and sensibility.
This isn’t even the Lassie that most people comically think they know: there’s no Timmie; no trouble at the mill (well, not that kind of trouble) nor children stuck in a well; no long conversations of, “What is it girl?” followed by some barks before the kid translates and runs off to help save the day. Lassie long ago became a part of American culture and folklore, the name virtually synonymous with breed. his Lassie is the 11th feature film concerning the world’s most famous collie (in addition to several TV series and specials), but it’s only the second direct adaptation of Knight’s story. This is not an updated for the modern era Lassie; instead of Lassie as savior, it’s Lassie as kidnappee, … sort of.
The time is pre-WWII England, and the place a small Yorkshire mining town. Lassie belongs to young Joe Carraclough (Jonathan Mason) and his parents. She’s an extraordinary dog, meeting Joe at school every day to walk him home and protecting smaller dogs (like her friend Cricket) when necessary. She’s so extraordinary, in fact, that she catches the eye of Cilla (Jemma Redgrave) and her wealthy grandfather (Peter O’Toole), the local Duke who becomes determined to buy her. When the local mine is shut-down and Joe’s father loses his job, Joe’s parents feel they have no choice but to sell Lassie. What they should have kept in mind was that Lassie may not agree with this decision, and being as smart and special a dog as she is, nobody and nothing will be able to stop her from coming home — not a locked pen, a high fence or even being transported to the Duke’s remote castle in Northern Scotland.
A good chunk of the film is Lassie’s long journey home, filled with soaring music and gorgeous vistas of the countryside. It’s these two elements that actually prove to be the weakest parts of the entire film. The original music by Adrian Johnston is just way too much, and Sturridge doesn’t hesitate to use it or let it overwhelm the entire experience of the film. It goes on and on to the point where nothing makes you want to leave the theater more at the end than the simple desire to get away from the aural monotony. It is a truly distracting and unfortunate element of the film that absolutely proves the proverbial less-is-more argument.
Not as bad but still somewhat perplexing is the overuse of Lassie in the countryside, Lassie on a mountaintop, Lassie staring our over the vast wilderness. This isn’t a huge problem other than that it’s repetitive and the film doesn’t need it. Additionally, when considering the modern younger audience, shorter attention spans and a run time of just over 100 minutes, I was confused at the decision to not have a tighter film. I’m not suggesting doing away with the scenery — which is quite beautiful — but chopping out half of it realistically might have cut 10 minutes out of the film and not made it seem quite as slow.
With that said, Lassie is a very smart and enjoyable family film that doesn’t go for cheap laughs, contains serious and identifiable themes and conflict and provides emotional wallops along the way. The performances are excellent across the board from the two empathetic children to the curmudgeonly but kind-hearted O’Toole to a somewhat fascinating brief supporting performance by Peter Dinklage to the Joe’s parents played by John Lynch and Samantha Morton. Of course, the star of the film is the latest Lassie (an eight-year-old descendent of the original collie star) plus his (that’s right: Lassie plays Lassie in drag, so-to-speak) three stand-ins. Lassie has a few other animal co-stars, namely friend Cricket and Dinklage’s best friend Toots. As much as possible, all the dogs perform quite admirably, apparently well-trained enough to be noticeably running after the trainer or that doggie-treat which is inevitably off-screen.
While I did have the above issues with the music and some of the excessively melodramatic editing, the overall tone of the film is effectively somber without being dreary, serious without being depressing, and overall often poetic. Yet, as well-made and intentioned as this Lassie is, it still left me asking why? Why make and release a period version of the story instead of figuring out a way to truly adapt the film for a modern telling. Not one with lots of slapstick and fart jokes or even a lot of flashy visuals, but one which better reflects the world that the film’s young audience might recognize. The original Lassie Come Home may be more than 60 years old, but it remains a film classic, starring Elizabeth Taylor and Roddy McDowell. Why not plan a reinvention using the original story, utilizing the same straightforward and poetic sensibility and style and pair such a feature release with a new DVD loaded with extras of the original film? From both a business and artistic standpoint, this seems to make more sense to me than spending however many millions of dollars to independently produce a period piece that won’t be on the same number of screens as most major releases these days and will likely recoup all its money … but not until it sells on video.
Still, that argument is moot, and if you find yourself looking for a film to take your nine-year-old son/daughter/niece/nephew/grandchild/etc. to, you could certainly do much worse than Lassie. No, seriously. Meaning, virtually everything out there right now for that audience is much worse. For better or worse, this Lassie is a child’s cinematic equivalent to vegetables: on first sight, it doesn’t look that great and there’s probably something else on the plate they’d rather eat, but once it starts going down, not only is it not so bad, but they might even learn to like it and possibly even be the better for it. That may not be a rousing endorsement for what is a quite-good film, but it’s a realistic appraisal in a world that looks very different from the one in which Lassie came to be more than a half-century ago.
Out of Focus 