3.5 stars. Rated PG, for no particular reason
By Derrick Bang • Originally published in The Davis Enterprise, 8.9.19
Coincidence can be cruel.
Last week’s preview screening of this film came just two days after Constant Companion and I bid a heartbroken farewell to our canine friend of 15 years. To say we therefore were a vulnerable target for a dog-oriented melodrama would be the wildest of understatements.
 |
| Although Enzo (the shaggy one) loves to join Denny (Milo Ventimiglia) in any activity, nothing compares to the rush of sitting shotgun when they test-drive a car on their favorite racetrack. |
Fortunately, director Simon Curtis takes a sensibly restrained approach to this big-screen adaptation of Garth Stein’s celebrated 2008 novel, which obediently sat on the New York Times best seller list for three-plus years. (That said, while The Art of Racing in the Rain is a clever title for a book, it’s rather a mouthful for a movie: hard to remember, and giving no narrative clues for viewers unfamiliar with Stein’s work.)
In a year laden with sentimental pooch pictures — we’ve already sniffled through A Dog’s Way Home and A Dog’s Journey — this one’s a bit different. Although we’re once again privy to a canine protagonist’s inner thoughts, Kevin Costner’s voicing of this golden retriever (Enzo) is far more thoughtful and philosophical, and less inclined toward humor.
Enzo carefully studies everything: his master and other people, events on television and out in the big, wide world. In other words, Enzo learns; he also has tremendous insight into the human condition. He’s “handicapped” only because his doggy tongue and palate weren’t designed for speech … and he lacks opposable thumbs.
Costner’s dry, matter-of-fact acknowledgment of these two shortcomings, early on, sets the tone for his superlative voice performance.
Curtis, cinematographer Ross Emery and animal trainer/coordinator Teresa Ann Miller also must be acknowledged for the patience they displayed, in order to get such marvelously contemplative expressions and postures from their four-legged stars: primarily 2-year-old Parker and 8-year-old Butler, playing Enzo during different chapters of this saga.
“The hardest thing to train a dog to do is sit still,” Miller acknowledges, in the press notes. They succeeded brilliantly; Enzo has a regal, dignified presence that makes him seem infinitely wise. This bearing is complemented perfectly by Costner’s voiceovers.
Seattle-based race car driver Denny Swift (Milo Ventimiglia) happens upon the puppy entirely by chance, and they’re soon inseparable. He names the pup Enzo, after the Italian racing driver and founder of Ferrari automobiles.
One evening, watching a television documentary, Enzo learns about the Mongolian legend that states a dog “who is prepared” will be reincarnated in its next life as a human being. From that moment forward, Enzo decides to be very prepared.
Compatible as they are, man does not live by dog alone. Much to Enzo’s initial regret, Denny encounters Eve (Amanda Seyfried), and soon they’re also inseparable. Enzo eventually forgives the intrusion, sensing that she wisely desires his “blessing” for her entry into their family unit; he dutifully obliges.
Unfortunately, the dynamic isn’t nearly as amiable when it comes to Eve’s wealthy parents, Trish (Kathy Baker) and Maxwell (Martin Donovan), whom Enzo dismisses as “the twins.” Neither is entirely comfortable with their only child building a relationship with somebody financially insecure and involved in such a dangerous profession. Trish, to her credit, graciously tries to make peace with her daughter’s choice; Maxwell can’t even feign civility.
We hate him on sight. Donovan’s performance is sublime; he literally radiates contempt, hostility and the arrogance of privilege. (He also doesn’t like dogs.) We can tell this is a guy determined to “win,” no matter who gets hurt along the way. Indeed, Donovan’s portrayal is so credibly, persuasively mean-spirited, that it’s a red-alarm signal. In a story of this nature, it’s clear that Maxwell will find a way to do serious damage to Denny and Eve.
Enzo senses this, as well. Alas, he’s a dog, unable to interfere in human pack behavior. But he can watch, and wait; he does both with that same silent nobility.
The film (and book) title come from Denny’s almost supernatural skill on a wet racetrack; unlike most drivers, who tighten up, Denny essentially becomes one with the rain. The story’s gimmick is that he’s just as philosophical as Enzo; the difference is that Denny can share his wisdom.
“That which you manifest is before you,” he explains to Eve. “Create your own conditions, and the rain is just rain.”
Although racing is Denny’s beloved profession, it’s also a metaphor; the goal — for people, for dogs — is to find a way to apply such racetrack lessons to the complexities of navigating real life.
Ventimiglia is best known for his television work: initially as Jess in The Gilmore Girls, and currently as Jack in his ongoing role on This Is Us. He has matured into a solid actor who excels at both heartfelt sensitivity and tightly wound frustration. He makes an excellent Denny, and he’s well complemented by Seyfried, equally persuasive as the joyous, mildly earthy Eve: a woman who clearly loves life.
Gary Cole, far too often stuck in villainous parts, veers 180 degrees for his warm and generous portrayal of Denny’s racing instructor, Don Kitch (named for Stein’s real-life, Seattle-based friend and racing coach). We all should have such a mentor in our corner.
Ryan Kiera Armstrong is cute, charming and precocious as Zoë, Denny and Eve’s daughter; she handles this role when the girl is 7 and 9, as Enzo matures into a doggy senior citizen.
Mark Bomback’s screenplay is faithful to the book, and — ironically — that’s a problem. Stein had 321 pages in which to develop the foundation for the story’s trials and tribulations, but this film runs only 109 minutes. By the third act, the misfortune and calamity have been piled on with a tractor scoop: far too much angst, in so short a time. (You can’t help thinking Denny should have been named Job.)
That said, Curtis deserves credit for maintaining a gentle, family-friendly approach. Heartwarming, live-action dramas with PG ratings have become rather scarce these days; studios and directors seem hell-bent on inserting enough crude humor to secure a more marketable PG-13.
Its melodramatic excesses notwithstanding, The Art of Racing in the Rain is a sweet, heartfelt little film that deserves a larger audience than it’s likely to get.
No comments:
Post a Comment