this is a movie so disjointed and out of touch that even the smallest drop of sincerity is mistaken for a barbed rose meant to draw blood. You're meant to cry, but those tears are never earned
the film is ridiculously manipulative, guiding the audience through scenes of doggy loneliness and low-grade cruelty from humans - not outright sadism but terrible neglect
Lasse Hallstrom, shoots in sumptuously rich Technicolor, even if narratively it often feels more like he's working with finger paints. Each segment, duly framed by textbook fashion and music cues, unfolds with the soothing blandness of a bedtime story
it's hard to fault the movie's earnestness; Hallstrom's canine cinema pedigree (which includes the superior "Hachi: A Dog's Tale") shows through; and Rachel Portman's score is understandably sentimental without going completely saccharine
by Matt Donato [We Got This Covered ]
