Old Dogs

Just as the old cliché about not being able to teach an old dog new tricks, Walt Becker’s Old Dogs offers about the same level of comedy. Despite showing some potential as commentary on ageism, the light-hearted comedy often flounders in the formulaic and a premise that is more complicated than it needed to be. Yes, it’s got too much to be complex.

Robin Williams and John Travolta play the roles of Dan and Charlie, best friends and business partners in a sports marketing firm. They’re vying to hit the big-time as they attempt to land a big contract headquartered in Japan. But smooth-sailing doesn’t often make for good films. Enter the children. Conceived amidst a short-lived fling, Dan discovers he’s the father of two seven-year-old twins. They’re dropped in Dan’s lap for a couple of weeks as their mother, Vicki (Kelly Preston), is headed to jail for a short stint. It’s the perfect time for the children to get to know their father and throw in a fish-out-of-water script.

Old Dogs plays out like a series of sitcom vignettes. Each are only loosely connected to the overall plot, but seem to exist for two reasons: offer random gags that induce the occasional chuckle and offer an excuse to slap some familiar faces like Matt Dillon, Rita Wilson and the late Bernie Mac up on the screen. Although they’re central to the story that’s told, the kids are useless.

As the title suggests, Old Dogs is a film that’s ultimately striving to show what it means to truly come-of-age. Dan and Charlie both embody the man-child. They’ve never been able to settle down. Their careers have acted as blinders and distractions. But time is quickly becoming their enemy. Daily routines begin with a carousel of pills that enable them to function normally. These themes are laid out but the inclusion of the kids is wholly unnecessary except for maybe being able to market the movie to family audiences. I’d have rather seen a less-is-more approach to the film. Let Dan and Charlie loose to explore what it means to overcome the Peter Pan Complex on their own. The business deal would have provided more than enough grounding to frame a script around. Instead the introduction of fatherhood enables the story to go to summer camp and have their meds mixed up.

Old Dogs might have played better as a sitcom on television than a film. It’s chunked structure fits nicely with the 30-minute format. Drawn out to a feature it’s a little more painful. Granted, with TV there wouldn’t be Robin Williams or John Travolta, but neither is at their best either. The material doesn’t allow Williams to be his manic genius. And Travolta, it’s getting harder to buy his cool-guy routine. The two share an awkward chemistry as both give off a vibe they don’t really want to be there. They feel very unnatural.

Although I found some of the gags in the film moderately funny, as a whole Old Dogs is a mess. It’s unfortunate because there’s something much more intelligent lurking under the surface. But the take is the wrong one, one that opts for the easy way out rather than digging deeper to a place where real issues could have been tackled and presented in a more real and honest way.

Old Dogs Blu-ray Review

Old Dogs arrives on Blu-ray with a combo pack that also includes the DVD and a Digital Copy. The film is shown in a 1080p widescreen format (1.85:1 aspect ratio) with English 5.1 DTS-HD Master Audio. Additional French and Spanish 5.1 Dolby Digital tracks are also included, as are subtitles in all three languages.

Bonus features include a commentary track featuring director Walt Becker, producer Andrew Panay and writers David Diamond and David Weissman. Given the fact that four key crew are present, it’s fairly reserved at times. “Young Dogs Learn Old Tricks” has the two lead kids in the film interviewing stars Robin Williams and John Travolta. Additional bonus content includes a blooper reel, three deleted scenes including a new tag for the end of the movie, and music videos for “You’ve Been a Friend to Me” by Bryan Adams and “Every Little Step” by John and Ella Bleu Travolta.