Love That Dog

In the interest of full disclosure, let me say I would happily watch a feature film on the subject of tire pressure if a bullmastiff happened to pass in front of the camera . You see, I love that particular canine breed, and am perfectly prepared to forgive a lot of the dumbest stuff in See Spot Run on account of its titular bullmastiff hero.

A lot, but not all. A family film made in an era when "family film" is synonymous with scatological jokes, gratuitous violence, and shapeless storytelling, See Spot Run is sadly par for the course. It's the kind of kiddie movie you find punctuated with hot-button moments (a scene involving combustible zebra farts, for instance) of lowbrow appeal to pre-teens, moments that have nothing to do with a story about a FBI-trained dog who flees the wrath of a mobster (Paul Sorvino) and ends up in the care of a pooch-averse postman (David Arquette) and the latter's little neighbor (Angus T. Jones).

Of course, little boys and girls in the audience -- naturally slavish to bathroom humor and goofy grownup behavior -- love to see stuff like dogs peeing on people's legs or the antics of a nutball like Arquette engaged in a breakdancing competition. (The latter scene is definitely helped by the vigorous participation of supporting clown Anthony Anderson, of My, Myself and Irene, who plays Gordon's best friend.) But the same kids, I pray, can also love a keener, more cartoonish edge when it comes to funny set-ups. Happily, See Spot Run has a couple of those that would not be out of place in a Jerry Lewis classic or in Blake Edwards' Inspector Clouseau franchise.

Particularly entertaining is a wild bit of slapstick set in a pet store in which Arquette -- whose character has reluctantly assumed the care and feeding of the adorable Jones as well as the runaway bullmastiff -- simultaneously gets his head stuck in a fishbowl and his body densely wrapped in helium-inflated plastic. Though intercut with less dynamic action elsewhere in the store, the scene is expertly shot by seasoned television director John Whitesel and finely-honed in the editing. Lovers of stimulating silliness will not be disappointed.

Despite an absurdly large pool of writers given screen credit for See Spot Run, there's a seamless and touching simplicity to the story's central, three-way relationship. Arquette plays a decent fellow struggling with human ties following a childhood spent bouncing from one foster home to another. Jones' fatherless and diffident pre-schooler is being raised by an overly cautious mom (Leslie Bibb) apparently intent on keeping his colon squeaky clean. As for the dog, Spot (so named despite his spotless tan coat), well, he's a stolid pooch trained to be a crime-fighting tool instead of a beloved member of a family.

Who knows: maybe a few pre-schoolers in the audience will grasp the parallels and have an epiphany. (If they can have it here, chances are good they'll have another one later while immersed in more important material. Then another somewhere down the line.) On the other hand, don't be surprised if the four-year-old in your life announces his favorite scene in See Spot Run is one that involves a human character covered in dog poop. (My four-year-old made such an announcement.) The filmmakers went for cheap laughs as well as for some a little harder-earned. The only thing pure about this film is the dog, and he's magnificent.