The Secret Life of Pets: Too much bite, not enough bark

The Secret Life of Pets (2016) • View trailer 
3.5 stars. Rated PG, for no particularly reason
By Derrick Bang • Originally published in The Davis Enterprise, 7.8.16

There’s such a thing as trying too hard.

This film’s concept, as suggested by the hilarious preview we’ve been watching for the past several months, is irresistible. Everybody who owns a dog, cat, hamster — or whatever — wonders what our beloved critters get up to, while we’re away from home. Do they chew our shoes? Invade the pantry? Climb the drapes? Kick back and watch Animal Planet on the flat-screen TV?

Gidget, far right, expects great things from the "local expert" who knows the ins and outs of
Manhattan, and will help them find the missing Max and Duke. On the other hand, Gidget's
companions — from left, Chloe, Sweetpea, Norman, Mel, Tiberius and Buddy — have
their doubts.

If scripters Ken Daurio, Brian Lynch and Cinco Paul had delivered on that theme, The Secret Life of Pets would have been more emotionally satisfying. Alas, the aforementioned trailer — and film title — are a bit misleading. This story isn’t all that concerned with the secret lives of pets; it’s actually a scuffle between Max (voiced by Louis C.K.), a quick-witted terrier who has long been the sole companion of his owner, Katie (Ellie Kemper); and newcomer Duke (Eric Stonestreet), a massive, fluffy, unruly mongrel she rescues one day from the local animal shelter.

Long accustomed to being the alpha dog, both at home and in his multi-story Manhattan apartment building, Max doesn’t take kindly to this intruder ... particularly when Duke shows little interest in sharing their territory. This struggle for dominance spills out onto New York’s mean streets, and soon involves a deranged bunny named Snowball (Kevin Hart), who heads a massive, motley pack of abandoned animals calling themselves the Flushed Pets.

Snowball and his gang hate people, and they also hate pampered pets; the increasingly chaotic result turns into a slapstick collection of sight gags, some of which jump the shark (well, crocodile) to a disastrous degree. An interlude in a sausage factory defies description, particularly when it morphs into a musical sequence set to “We Go Together,” from Grease.

Along the way, the film loses what little heart it struggles to display, while also burying the all-important message: that people shouldn’t adopt pets, if they’ve no intention of keeping them. Instead, it’s a race to a manic finish line, with co-directors Chris Renaud and Yarrow Cheney apparently engaged in several rounds of Can You Top This?

Which is a shame. The lengthy prologue introduces us to a delightful set of pampered pets, each of whom could have been explored further. Too often, though, they become sidebar distractions to the outrageous antics of Snowball & Co.

Delivery Man: Return to sender

Delivery Man (2013) • View trailer 
Two stars. Rating: PG-13, for thematic elements, sexual content, drug use, profanity and brief violence
By Derrick Bang • Originally published in The Davis Enterprise, 11.22.13

In a case that was argued before a Kansas judge just a few weeks ago — having wound its way through the court system for roughly a year — sperm donor William Marotta is fighting an order by the state that he pay child support for a little girl he “fathered” four years ago.

As the newly pregnant Emma (Cobie Smulders) watches the uncontrolled little children
at a neighborhood park, lamenting that she hasn't the faintest notion of how to become
a mother, David (Vince Vaughn) insists that she'll be the perfect parent. He should
know, given the rather massive secret that he can't bring himself to share with her...

Marotta responded to a Craigslist ad placed by two women back in 2009; the three drew up a contract that absolved him of any responsibility to or for the child. The same-sex couple subsequently split up, which forced the custodial parent — Jennifer Schreiner — to obtain $6,000 in public assistance, to help pay her family expenses.

Kansas state law requires that a licensed doctor perform artificial insemination. Seizing a legal loophole because — wait for it — Schreiner and then-partner Angela Bauer used a catheter and syringe, with no doctor present, the state filed suit and thus far has spent well in excess of $6,000 to recover this sum from Marotta. Hovering in the wings, as Marotta’s attorney suggests, is the certainty that conservative Kansas lawmakers — the state approved a constitutional ban on same-sex marriage in 2005 — are using this case to reaffirm their position on “family values.”

Although a decision is expected by the end of the year, that won’t be the end of it; both sides are expected to appeal an unfavorable verdict.

I’ve absolutely no doubt that an incisive, scathingly satirical film could be made from this bizarre scenario, and it would have been far funnier, and much more satisfying, than Ken Scott’s Delivery Man.

This Vince Vaughn vehicle has been re-shaped somewhat from the 2011 Canadian dramedy Starbuck, which Scott also directed and co-wrote with Martin Petit. That film was enormously popular in its native country, winning a series of Canadian cinema awards and making a splash at regional film festivals.

(In a fascinating case of life imitating art, a month or so into Starbuck’s production, the news broke of Michigan’s Dr. Kirk Maxey, who had fathered roughly 400 children after donating semen twice a week between 1980 and ’94. He subsequently lobbied for stricter sperm bank regulation. You think?)

I’ve not seen Starbuck, and therefore cannot comment on its merits. But I suspect it’s far more entertaining than Delivery Man, which can’t decide what it wants to be, when it grows up.