My Dog Skip Blu-ray Movie

Rating summary

Movie		4.5
Video		3.5
Audio		4.0
Extras		2.5
Overall		3.5

My Dog Skip Blu-ray Movie Review

"All the lessons you learn in childhood... kinda come in waves."

Reviewed by Kenneth Brown December 31, 2010

The words "based on a true story" rarely carry much weight with me, but author Willie Morris's reflections on his childhood in My Dog Skip are so earnest, so touching and strike such a resonant chord that I couldn't help but be mesmerized by his account of life as a young Mississippi boy in the early 1940s. Morris's musings are even more affecting as helmed by screenwriter Gail Gilchriest and delivered by Southern-draaawled narrator Harry Connick Jr. in director Jay Russell's equally moving film adaptation of the same name. Skip may co-star a lovable pup, but the dog is merely a catalyst of change in young Willie's life; a friend to a timid boy who had none, a doorway to a future that might not have otherwise presented itself, a silent advocate willing to bear the burdens heaped on his master's shoulders. Make no mistake, My Dog Skip isn't cute-n-cuddly drivel, a talking-animal fable or the sort of shameless melodrama that oozes vapid sentiment. No, it's a far more moving and, dare I say, far more timeless family film than that.

"The dog of your boyhood teaches you a great deal about friendship, love and death."

In the summer of 1943 in the sleepy Southern town of Yazoo City, Mississippi, a shy nine-year-old boy named Willie Morris (a soulful Frankie Muniz) is given a gift that, unbeknownst to him, is about to change the course of his life forever: a loyal Jack Russell terrier named Skip. His father (Kevin Bacon), a stern but loving wounded veteran of the Spanish Civil War, isn't fond of the pup or the idea of his son owning a dog, but Willie's sweet, high-spirited mother (Diane Lane) is perceptive enough to see the boy desperately needs a friend, even if it's of the four-legged variety. So begins a friendship that boosts Willie's confidence, convinces a ragtag gang of schoolmates (Bradley Coryell, Daylan Honeycutt and Cody Linley) to accept him into their fold, gives the boy the courage around the love of his young life (Caitlin Wachs), and ultimately teaches him a great deal about a great many things. But don't be fooled. Beneath the aw-shucks period trappings are deeper, more poignant things. Willie's neighbor and role model Dink Jenkins (Luke Wilson) eagerly joins the army, but returns home a troubled and reclusive man; bullies torment Willie at school and humiliate him at every turn; Mississippi segregation takes its toll on the dynamics of Yazoo City; the Morris's struggle to raise their son without coddling him; and Willie's anger and frustrations start to boil over. While the film never grows too dark, Willie is a believable little boy with genuine insecurities in an era of uncertainty.

Crucify me on the cross of hyperbolic critics if you like, but in my humble opinion, My Dog Skip stands shoulder to shoulder with Rob Reiner's Stand By Me, a tried and true classic by all accounts. Muniz leads a restrained, almost reverent cast of talented veterans and impressive character actors, even the least of which hold their own quite well. Yes, Wachs is a tad wooden, Wilson only has enough screentime to explore the extremes of Dink, and briefly glimpsed pseudo-antagonists Peter Crombie and Clint Howard are a wee bit too Apple Dumpling Gang for the film's own good. But seeing as Skip is told from the perspective of a man recalling the peaks and valleys of his childhood, it hardly registers. There's a soft sadness behind Bacon's eyes, and his seemingly simple man-of-principle is a complex caregiver and honorable father worthy of more scenes than he's afforded. Lane exudes maternal fire and handles her role as a woman ahead of her time with natural poise, bulldoggish grace and weary charm. And Muniz? The Malcolm in the Middle upstart is all unassuming grins and downcast glances here, delivering an inward performance that flawlessly merges with Morris's words and Connick's leisurely narration. When he comes out of his shell, it's as much an innate revelation to his friends and family as it is to him; when he lashes out, even for a moment, it's as painful to watch as it is painful for him to release; when his heart trembles and breaks, it's as difficult for us to see as it is for Willie to feel.

Skip, meanwhile, is used to lead Willie from one experience to the next; everything from making friends to overcoming fears to confronting the harsh realities of life. In fact, despite his titular status, Skip never takes center stage, existing as an extension of his young master's desires rather than some sort of wise-beyond-his-species life coach. He doesn't even nudge Willie toward decisions. Every choice the boy makes is his own, every action he takes comes from within, and every stride he makes is his accomplishment. It's a relief to watch a film in which an animal behaves like a real animal and people treat a pet, however perky and personable, like an actual pet. Still, I have no doubt some will bemoan what they see as sappy sentiment and, truth be told, there's enough here to misinterpret Russell's intentions and Morris' memories. But Morris, Russell and Gilchriest ensure any and all heartstrings are those any nostalgic old man would weave into a tale of his childhood, and the filmmakers' blend of thoughtful narration, honest performances and organic shifts in tone prevent the film from dabbling in theatrics or stumbling into dangerous territory. Will My Dog Skip connect with everyone on the level it connected with me? No. I know full well my childhood -- as well as a faithful canine companion who helped this little boy ease through some tough third, fourth and fifth-grade times -- make Russell's film a more personal experience. That being said, My Dog Skip is much better than the vast majority of family films on the market and, I suspect, will take viewers of all ages by surprise.

My Dog Skip Blu-ray Movie, Video Quality 

My Dog Skip scampers onto Blu-ray with a wholesome 1080p/VC-1 transfer that, barring a few outstanding issues, serves Russell's early '40s canvas and cinematographer James L. Carter's shoeshine palette well. Lush forests, hearthy interiors and sunny ballfields are just the beginning, and every bold green, rich amber hue and bold jersey is as warm and vibrant as the next. Black levels are deep (albeit a bit too deep on occasion), fleshtones are relatively lifelike (the occasional flushed face notwithstanding), and contrast remains strong throughout. Skip isn't tack-sharp by any means and filmic softness seasons the proceedings, but detail is still quite satisfying. Smartly resolved fine textures are everywhere, definition is decidedly decent, and a faint veneer of grain is visible at all times. Some minor ringing, reasonable crush, oversaturated primaries, oppressive shadows and questionable noise creep into the image here and there, but no single issue emerges as a major distraction. In fact, artifacting, banding, aliasing and other nuisances are largely held at bay, allowing each scene to stand on its own merits. My Dog Skip certainly isn't the best looking ten-year-old catalog title on the market, but Warner's presentation doesn't leave much room for serious complaint.

My Dog Skip Blu-ray Movie, Audio Quality 

Here's a sentence I didn't expect to be writing: the unequivocal highlight of My Dog Skip's AV presentation is its restrained but convincing DTS-HD Master Audio 5.1 surround track. Dialogue is clean, clear and consistent, Skip's barks and growls are just as commendable, and effortless prioritization ensures little is left by the wayside. But it's the rear speakers that really bring the film to life. What begins as a quiet, unassuming soundfield soon erupts with activity: a chorus of insects serenade a sun-baked field, the distant call of a dark forest lingers in a moonlit cemetery, excitable parents laugh and cheer at a crowded baseball field... each environment refined and immersive. Directionality is precise, pans are smooth, and William Ross's tender score envelops the listener with ease. The only underwhelming aspect of the mix? LFE support, while serviceable, is far from commanding. Not that it matters much when it comes to a leisurely family film. It may not shake the floors and rattle the windows, but stirring catalog sonics like these shouldn't disappoint anyone.

My Dog Skip Blu-ray Movie, Special Features and Extras 

The Blu-ray release of My Dog Skip includes three special features: a personable but largely technical commentary with director Jay Russell; a second, surprisingly informative track with animal trainer Matilda de Cagny and a young, well-spoken Frankie Muniz; and a selection of wisely discarded deleted scenes (SD, 4 minutes) with non-optional director's commentary.

My Dog Skip Blu-ray Movie, Overall Score and Recommendation 

Family entertainment doesn't get much more earnest or sincere than My Dog Skip. No obnoxious talking animals, no threadbare heartstrings, no trite sentiment... just meaningful, heartfelt drama with something to offer filmfans of all ages. Better still, Warner's perfectly priced Blu-ray release is well worth owning. Its AV presentation not only outclasses its DVD counterpart -- thanks to an impressive (albeit imperfect) video transfer and a surprisingly absorbing DTS-HD Master Audio track -- its double-commentary supplemental package adds some welcome replay value. I know, I know... it looks like another one of those family flicks. But My Dog Skip wasn't at all what I expected and turned out to be more memorable than I could have anticipated. I'm proud to add it to my personal collection.