“Dog Man” is many things: a poignant tale about a man caught in the push-pull of two disparate worlds, a sentimental story about the fluctuating facets of friendship and fatherhood, an intense thriller about political corruption. It’s also a flat-out bonkers, slapstick action-comedy about a kung fu-kicking, human-dog hybrid cop who uses wisdom to outsmart and change the hearts of bad guys hoisted by their own petard.
Yet blending all of these aspects together, as well as tackling the sincerity with a hefty dose of outlandishness, proves unwieldy for writer-director Peter Hastings (“Country Bears”). His animated adaptation of author Dav Pilkey’s illustrated series aligns with the source material’s silly spirit to a slavishly fatiguing degree as it jams too many villains, themes and gags into a brief run time. Many of its bigger ideas focused on therapeutic conflict resolution fail to coalesce, leading to an overall tonal imbalance.
Police Officer Knight (voiced by Hastings) and his dutiful canine companion Greg (also voiced by Hastings) are a bumbling bunch, on a mission to arrest rotten menace Petey the Cat (Pete Davidson) once and for all. The nefarious arch-villain has led them on a multitude of pursuits, through the streets of Ohkay City and over dangerous out-of-order bridges. However, Officer Knight and Greg’s finale as a perfect pair transpires when Petey’s bomb explodes, sending them to the hospital. Surgeons are baffled at first, but quickly figure out the lone solution to save the pair: sew Greg’s salvageable head on Knight’s intact body, thus creating the precinct’s “supa cop,” Dog Man.
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As the precinct’s star employee, Dog Man does a superhuman job, arresting and incarcerating Petey. Trouble is, his nemesis frequently escapes Cat Jail, which annoys the cantankerous Chief (Lil Rel Howery) and the city’s mean Mayor (Cheri Oteri). As Dog Man and ace reporter Sarah Hatoff (Isla Fisher) wait for Petey to strike again, the cunning cat concocts his latest evil invention that, of course, unwittingly goes awry: the delivery of clone Li’l Petey (Lucas Hopkins Calderon). Much to his chagrin, his unnatural spawn makes for a meddlesome son. Things escalate when the DNA-linked duo re-animate the corpse of Flippy the fish (Ricky Gervais), who’s programmed to eliminate all do-gooders. When the cats’ lives become threatened, they’re forced to enlist Dog Man’s help to prevent a cataclysmic catastrophe.
As delightfully demented as all that absurdity sounds on paper, far too often it falters in its execution. Loud, tiresome and half-baked, the off-kilter hilarity and attempts at sentimentality aren’t given much clearance to land, causing the emotional overtones to feel unearned. It’s a rinse-repeat cycle of rapid-fire mischief, puns and poignancy. Meanwhile, it proves difficult to connect to these characters and their conundrums when Hastings is clearly intent on shoving us into the next joke setup or bombastic action sequence. It’s indeed a benefit that the proceedings don’t drag on, but these aspects act as a cacophonous barrage on the audience.
Though the toon is suitable for all ages, it faces occasional trouble striking the right balance of humor and heart that can work its magic on kiddos and adults simultaneously. A kaiju fight between a giant building that farts and a giant robot postman that gets pantsed may be too juvenile for many grown-ups, while the heavy ruminations on parental guilt, deadbeat dads and abandonment might fly over tots’ heads. Our hero’s arc is almost completely usurped by the antagonist’s journey. Dog Man’s internal struggle, wrestling with his old life as two separate identities, fades as the film unfurls. Subplots involving Chief’s crush on Sarah and the setup for a potential collusion charge against the Mayor add interest, but feel like the ghostly remnants of story drafts past as both scenarios contain little payoff.
There is still fun to be had in an audacious picture such as this. Chief’s motor-mouthed monologue of Flippy’s backstory is hysterically funny, pulling double duty by pointing out how to properly use exposition for comedic purposes while also demonstrating backstories are inherently superfluous and absurd. The scene also allows Howery to exercise his impeccable timing, nailing every syllable. Gervais is a hoot, going broad with his slippery antagonist’s freewheeling nonsense. In quieter moments, which are few and far between, the narrative holds subtle profundity on using empathy as a weapon, breaking the cycle of poor parenting, overcoming childhood trauma and turning a bad situation into a brighter one. Still, those stirring sentiments are bulldozed over by punchlines and an abrupt ending.
Animators give the aesthetics an adorably appealing gloss. There’s a terrific tactile look to Dog Man’s velvet-soft face and Petey’s familial crayon-striped furry coat. They also incorporate hand-drawn elements when letters appear on-screen. Explosions emit curlicue swirls in addition to CGI smoke. Sorrowful scenes — like the one where a dejected Dog Man walks home from work during a pink sunset, or when Petey and his progeny walk in the moonlight realizing their harsh reality — utilize a gorgeous color scale to intone the emotional underpinnings. Plus, they beautifully augment Davidson’s vocal performance, gifting him with expressiveness in his facial features, especially in the third act when his character’s redemptive virtues are shaded in.
While few might expect a film geared toward youngsters and named after a peculiar protagonist to contain resonance to match its wackiness, the fact that Hastings and company took a stab at doing so without properly streamlining its scattershot themes feels like a wasted opportunity. Even “Transformers One,” the animated film about sentient robots, delivered the unexpected with a surprisingly resounding story about friends becoming enemies. It can be done.
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