Starring Lee Pace, Judy Greer, William H. Macy, and the voices of Owen Wilson (as Marmaduke), George Lopez, and Kiefer Sutherland
(This week’s column is guest written by that rambunctious Great Dane himself, Marmaduke.)
Woof! Boy, am I glad to be out of that crate.
Growl…they had me imprisoned in that tiny thing the entire flight back from the Cannes Film Festival — a flight time equivalent to 20 dog days! Ruff!
But it wasn’t so bad as there were a couple of well-coiffed French Poodles in crates nearby. Ah-rooooo!
And we barked about the “dogs” at Cannes — by that I mean the movies!
Uh, excuse me while I scratch behind my ear for a moment…ahhhh, that’s better.
Anyway, the poodles and I were digging through our memories of our dog days along the French Riviera.
We got to howling about the goofy Cannes films and how they could not keep our attention as they were slow and weird, like a three-legged pooch.
Bark! Some of them were howlingly bad — uh, that is if you are a dog.
They didn’t have any car chases, mailmen, Frisbees, chew toys, preening, simplistic dialogue, precocious kids, or unwitting love-struck romantic couples that a canine could help get together.
And, even worse, we couldn’t remember sniffing any dogs in any of the movies.
We remember seeing horses and birds, even a water buffalo, but no man’s best friend.
But the biggest bone to pick of ’em all — many had cats in them!
It was so bad that some human master even created something called the “Palme d’Whiskers” — essentially a “good cat” award for the best feline performance. Grrrr!
This year’s Palme d’Whiskers went to two kitties that meow back and forth in a sign-songy manner for what seems like 9 lives in Jean-Luc Godard’s Film Socialisme.
It’s enough to make a dog bare his teeth!
All we could do was cover our ears and howl.
Dawg, even without the cats that film was a stinker!
Pant, pant! But we are so very glad to be back in the USA!
We are free to run around and see some really great movies — movies that every dog could love!
The first film my master and I raced off to see was my very own movie Marmaduke! Woof-woof!
It was a howling good time!
Unlike Cannes, it has fart jokes, I get to chew-up a couch, knock people down, chase squirrels and cats, squirt toothpaste from a tube, and most of all I get to drool all over the place.
Oh, and I get to act like a human and chase some bitc…uh, I mean females, help estranged kids reconnect with their parents, teach a bully a lesson, and help all dogs learn the value of diversity and tolerance.
And everyone gets to see me dance and watch my flapping mouth move as if speaking like a human.
To my ears, it’s worthy of the “Paw d’arf”!
This dog sure has his day!
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I see a tennis ball bouncing down the street…Bark! Bark!
Doug Young is The Statesman’s dog-gone best film critic.