My initial reaction to Dog Park was that it was a deeply personal film from a writer intent on conveying his own sense of loneliness and cynicism towards life and relationships -- accompanied by a glimmer of hope, conceded in a subtle connecting glance across a crowded park by the film's two protagonists. Dog Park is a very smart film with a real, albeit subtle, depth, which is missed by most -- as evidenced in the majority of the user comments. Close examination brings to mind another film, Medem's Los Amantes del Circulo Polar, and the provocative ideas it evoked about the circle of life, the role that coincidences play in that life, about fate, and pain, loneliness and the desire, ultimately, to find, and be loved by, that one special person.
A chance meeting in a bar by two lonely people on the rebound, establishes what will constitute the film's love story. Their meeting is awkward, and uncomfortable, and at least one of them is sure that they've seen the other before, somewhere, maybe "...at the dog park." They take some personal jabs at each other before the two settle into an introductory conversation and quickly realize that there is something surprisingly beautiful about that person sitting across from them. They segue to an apartment only to wind up in a bathroom where one of them is getting sick, while the other gracefully consoles them. Shot from high above the bathroom window, we watch as the two embrace each other, taking note that this is the last time they will grace the screen together for the good majority of the film.
The guy is Andy, played by Luke Wilson, an endearing serial monogamist who has been stranded in one romantic relationship after another since the eighth grade, engaged in a sort-of quest for that one special person to share his life with. He slowly discerns that his most recent 'bad date' might actually be that special person he has been seeking all his life, confiding to a friend about her, "Have you seen somebody in a certain light and you felt like you knew everything about them?" His corresponding love interest is Lorna, played by Natasha Henstridge, an equally endearing person who is so emotionally dented by one too many ugly break-ups that she can't even conceive of getting into another one. She wants true love, and realizes early on that she might actually find it with Andy, but is just unable to gamble being hurt again, best articulated in their post-date phone conversation where she shoots down his offer of a follow-up date. Her facial expression says everything, pointing out the divergence between what she really wants and what she is able to do. She is clearly caught in a personal struggle between her protective instincts and her desire to be loved -- and stranded in her own loneliness.
Along for the ride are several other characters, both human and canine, including Kathleen Robertson, Andy's ex, who has dumped him for a sex-obsessed loser, Gordon Currie, who just happened to be the fellow who dumped Lorna. There's also Janeane Garofalo and Bruce McCullough, the seemingly perfect couple representing, at least for Andy, the ideal relationship he desperately longs for -- that is, until it begins unraveling in front of him. There's also several interesting background characters, namely Lorna's bestfriend, Rachel (Carey), Andy's blustery girlfriend, Kieran (Lehman), and Lorna's Mr. Wrong, Callum, played Harland Williams, a contradictory sort, whose wild-eyed goofball antics are only offset by his extraordinary insightfulness. With the film's progression, it becomes apparent that these characters are inexplicably linked together by chance, romance and an unwavering devotion to their dogs.
Speaking of dogs, everybody in the film has one, or at least shares one, and all of them are seeking counsel from the local animal psychologist, Dr. Cavan, played by Mark McKinney, who plays the straight man to all the craziness going on around him. In a way he represents the audience, understanding partially the cyclical nature of what is happening; the dogs are showing signs of stress because they are reacting to their owners' stress. McKinney's straight-laced, pseudo-analytical antics and inability to relate to other human beings, including his own children, provide some of the more hilarious moments.
Cinematically, Dog Park walks the line between dark and quirky and completely hilarious. It also seems to be pushing some kind of bizarre cosmic diagram. McCullough seemed to have designed the plot around this weird 'life-is-cyclical' idea, mentioned before and evidenced numerous times throughout the film. Actually, I lost count how many times situations or elements are twice repeated in the film, each with a differing outcome. A pick-up story, 'exchanging phone numbers after an automobile accident' is utilized twice in the film, each time with a much different tone. Locations, lines of dialogue, dating habits and minor characters appear or are stated twice with their relevance becoming much clearer on the second go around. Even a number, specifically one-hundred, appears twice in the film, the first time it is used as a means to bring together a couple, the second, to keep apart. There's even a 'dating chain' which is elaborated upon by one of the characters, a sort-of celestial ecosystem that mathematically determines who does or doesn't find love.
Bruce McCullough is a very talented director who had a lot to say with this, his first film, and in my opinion, he hit every note perfectly. He understands the romantic comedy in ways that most directors don't, or ever will, conceding that audiences don't need to see the heroes engage in an endless kiss or stagger into a bedroom hell bent on a physical consummation. He understands that sometimes, really, all that is needed is that subtle adoring look across a park or a nervous smile exchanged in a crowded bar by two people who know they are meant for each other. Sometimes that all it takes.
I love this film!
A chance meeting in a bar by two lonely people on the rebound, establishes what will constitute the film's love story. Their meeting is awkward, and uncomfortable, and at least one of them is sure that they've seen the other before, somewhere, maybe "...at the dog park." They take some personal jabs at each other before the two settle into an introductory conversation and quickly realize that there is something surprisingly beautiful about that person sitting across from them. They segue to an apartment only to wind up in a bathroom where one of them is getting sick, while the other gracefully consoles them. Shot from high above the bathroom window, we watch as the two embrace each other, taking note that this is the last time they will grace the screen together for the good majority of the film.
The guy is Andy, played by Luke Wilson, an endearing serial monogamist who has been stranded in one romantic relationship after another since the eighth grade, engaged in a sort-of quest for that one special person to share his life with. He slowly discerns that his most recent 'bad date' might actually be that special person he has been seeking all his life, confiding to a friend about her, "Have you seen somebody in a certain light and you felt like you knew everything about them?" His corresponding love interest is Lorna, played by Natasha Henstridge, an equally endearing person who is so emotionally dented by one too many ugly break-ups that she can't even conceive of getting into another one. She wants true love, and realizes early on that she might actually find it with Andy, but is just unable to gamble being hurt again, best articulated in their post-date phone conversation where she shoots down his offer of a follow-up date. Her facial expression says everything, pointing out the divergence between what she really wants and what she is able to do. She is clearly caught in a personal struggle between her protective instincts and her desire to be loved -- and stranded in her own loneliness.
Along for the ride are several other characters, both human and canine, including Kathleen Robertson, Andy's ex, who has dumped him for a sex-obsessed loser, Gordon Currie, who just happened to be the fellow who dumped Lorna. There's also Janeane Garofalo and Bruce McCullough, the seemingly perfect couple representing, at least for Andy, the ideal relationship he desperately longs for -- that is, until it begins unraveling in front of him. There's also several interesting background characters, namely Lorna's bestfriend, Rachel (Carey), Andy's blustery girlfriend, Kieran (Lehman), and Lorna's Mr. Wrong, Callum, played Harland Williams, a contradictory sort, whose wild-eyed goofball antics are only offset by his extraordinary insightfulness. With the film's progression, it becomes apparent that these characters are inexplicably linked together by chance, romance and an unwavering devotion to their dogs.
Speaking of dogs, everybody in the film has one, or at least shares one, and all of them are seeking counsel from the local animal psychologist, Dr. Cavan, played by Mark McKinney, who plays the straight man to all the craziness going on around him. In a way he represents the audience, understanding partially the cyclical nature of what is happening; the dogs are showing signs of stress because they are reacting to their owners' stress. McKinney's straight-laced, pseudo-analytical antics and inability to relate to other human beings, including his own children, provide some of the more hilarious moments.
Cinematically, Dog Park walks the line between dark and quirky and completely hilarious. It also seems to be pushing some kind of bizarre cosmic diagram. McCullough seemed to have designed the plot around this weird 'life-is-cyclical' idea, mentioned before and evidenced numerous times throughout the film. Actually, I lost count how many times situations or elements are twice repeated in the film, each with a differing outcome. A pick-up story, 'exchanging phone numbers after an automobile accident' is utilized twice in the film, each time with a much different tone. Locations, lines of dialogue, dating habits and minor characters appear or are stated twice with their relevance becoming much clearer on the second go around. Even a number, specifically one-hundred, appears twice in the film, the first time it is used as a means to bring together a couple, the second, to keep apart. There's even a 'dating chain' which is elaborated upon by one of the characters, a sort-of celestial ecosystem that mathematically determines who does or doesn't find love.
Bruce McCullough is a very talented director who had a lot to say with this, his first film, and in my opinion, he hit every note perfectly. He understands the romantic comedy in ways that most directors don't, or ever will, conceding that audiences don't need to see the heroes engage in an endless kiss or stagger into a bedroom hell bent on a physical consummation. He understands that sometimes, really, all that is needed is that subtle adoring look across a park or a nervous smile exchanged in a crowded bar by two people who know they are meant for each other. Sometimes that all it takes.
I love this film!