The Secret Life of Pets 2: A tail-wagger

The Secret Life of Pets 2 (2019) • View trailer 
Four stars. Rated PG, for dramatic intensity
By Derrick Bang • Originally published in The Davis Enterprise, 6.7.19

No sophomore slump here.

Scripter Brian Lynch hasn’t lost his touch, when it comes to depicting the quirks, tics, foibles and eccentricities of dogs and cats … and their owners. He and his team of Illumination animators obviously observed hundreds of canines and felines, because the results are even funnier than its 2016 predecessor.

Once pooches Max and Duke accept the presence of two-legged Ian, everything — most
particularly mealtime ‚ becomes a shared activity.

And if the four-legged behavior is slightly (?) exaggerated for the sake of entertainment value, that simply enhances the fun.

Lynch and director Chris Renaud have returned for this second round of critter comedy, the latter assisted by longtime animating colleague Jonathan del Val. They’ve embraced the “divide and conquer” approach to storytelling, introducing and then cross-cutting between four primary plotlines. They’re all delightful and ripe with well-timed comedy, along with — and this is important — a measured dollop of heart and poignancy.

And a rather uncompromising message. It’s safe to assume that Lynch doesn’t think much of circuses that showcase wild animals.

Primary pooches Max (voiced by Patton Oswalt) and Duke (Eric Stonestreet) remain the best of buddies, having settled into a comfortable routine with owner Katie (Ellie Kemper). Walkies in the nearby park constantly remind Max how nice it is, not to be mauled by grabby, grody, grimy children.

Then, disaster: Katie meets and marries Chuck, and — to Max’s horror — the inevitable occurs shortly thereafter. Things do indeed get rather grim for a few years, but when toddler Ian’s first word turns out to be “Max,” everything changes in a heartbeat. All those other little children may be pesky nightmares, but not Max’s boy.

Duke, ever the go-along-to-get-along sort, knew it would all work out just fine.

But with acceptance comes a new problem. Max, now terrified of everything in the big, bad world that seems designed specifically to endanger Ian, becomes a nervous, anxious, fretful helicopter pooch with a tendency to scratch himself raw. Cue a trip to a behavioral veterinarian — the waiting room sequence is to die for — and Max returns home trapped in a cone of shame.

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.