The Call of the Wild
LOOKING at its poster alone, with Harrison Ford next to a 140-pound St. Bernard-Scotch Collie mix, it is easy to make the joke that this film is the origin story of Han Solo and Chewbacca. It is not.
It is a story of Buck, the dog, and his hero’s journey from being the pampered pet of a judge in 1890s California to becoming the leader of a wolf pack up in Canada.
Along the way, he has a few masters, learns lessons, and proves himself as the bravest, smartest, and kindest dog by sheer force of a privileged upbringing.
John Thornton, played by Ford, is just one of the handful of masters Buck has throughout his adventure.
The film is loosely based on a 1903 novel of the same name by Jack London, updated with modern sensibilities and compressed into 100 minutes.
In the process, the story loses some of its edge, but gains a broader appeal.
Plotwise, The Call Of The Wild is simple. It fully adheres to the Chekhov’s gun dramatic principle. This means that every element in the movie is relevant to or used in the story, making it predictable. Not bad, but easily anticipated.
Cynicism aside, this is an entertaining family film and is recommended for anyone who loves tear-jerking, feel-good adventures.
Buck, because of his size, character, and heroism, reminds me of Beethoven. The St Bernard, not the composer. Except Buck is entirely computer-generated. No real dog is that expressive.
Ford, on the other hand, is no stranger to starring next to big anthropomorphised dogs and CG characters.
Acting points go to Ford, as well as Sy and Gee, who play a couple responsible for the Yukon postal route. Theirs is a sweet and engaging story arc.