Dolittle

I saw the 1967 adaptation of Doctor Dolittle on TV many decades ago, but the story behind its making was far more entertaining.

In Pictures at a Revolution: Five Movies and the Birth of a New Hollywood, Mark Harris recalls how producer Arthur P. Jacobs and director Richard Fleischer struggled with unruly live animals, costly period settings, technical glitches and human collaborators who made the animals seem cooperative in comparison. The movie struggled at the box office but ended up picking up a Best Picture Oscar nomination against The Graduate, Guess Who's Coming to Dinner, In the Heat of the Night and Bonnie and Clyde.

Nobody will be conducting an awards campaign for Stephen Gaghan's new adaptation of the Hugh Lofting stories.

Special effects have come a long way since Jacobs and Fleischer were working together, but computer images sometimes present as something on a monitor instead of whatever they're supposed to be. As the title character, Robert Downey Jr. appears to be playing chess with a gorilla, but other creatures look as if the computer hasn't completely rendered them, making viewers wonder if some more impressive visual was missed because of a rushed release date. (That's the excuse the makers of Cats are using.)

The concerns running through Dolittle are more dire than anything this doctor could cure. Gaghan, who won an Oscar for writing Traffic, has trouble figuring out what kind of movie he's trying to make. Dolittle often unfolds as if Gaghan is under the impression that if a character's motives are sketchy or a plotline seems arbitrary or confusing, it's best to go with clutter.

The doctor has an impressively wide list of patients, so it's helpful that he can have two-way conversations, even if they aren't human. Several familiar voices like John Cena, Rami Malek, Ralph Fiennes and Octavia Spencer talk for the animals (apparently only the physician hears them that way).

I counted at least five Oscar winners among the people speaking for the critters, but only Emma Thompson, as a bossy parrot, gets to do more than play a one-note creature. A lot of formidable talent is hidden in the cacophony.

Even the performers that do play two-legged beings get little to do, either. Michael Sheen might as well wear a sign that reads "I'm a bad guy" as a competing physician, and Jessie Buckley, who was magnificent in Wild Rose, might have turned down the role of Queen Victoria if she had known it consists solely of squirming in bed waiting for the doctor to return with the cure to a poison she's ingested.

Conveniently, he has until a coming eclipse to deliver the only known antidote.

Antonio Banderas and Jim Broadbent also show up, but neither has much to show for his involvement except for a paycheck.

Downey struggles to get a handle on what sort of person Dr. Dolittle is. Is he a bit crazy from talking with four-legged patients for too long, or is he a misunderstood genius like Tony Stark? By the time the movie settles on an answer, indifference has already settled in. Downey seems to have adopted a Welsh accent to give the veterinarian an identity the material fails to deliver.

Gaghan seems to be under the impression that kids aren't capable of handling nuanced or dynamic characters, but much of the charm of Hayao Miyazaki's Japanese cartoons is that villains are often misguided instead of craven. My nephews loved those movies and so have millions of other tots.

Lots of kids' movies feature jokes that are intended for the parents, but some of the mentions of bodily functions and reproductive activity here play more like dad jokes than jokes for dad.

Gaghan's clumsy pacing only makes it worse. Dolittle has had an ever-changing release date because of its production woes. Maybe if Mark Harris ever writes something about the movie, it will be breathtaking and insightful.

MovieStyle on 01/17/2020