A DOG’S PURPOSE

A CURE FOR WELLNESS

1/2 R, 146 minutes. Waterford, Stonington, Westbrook, Lisbon. Though Gore Verbinski has made a name for himself with large Hollywood studio pictures like “Pirates of the Caribbean” and “The Lone Ranger,” he’s always had a weird streak; a “one for them, one for me” mentality, interspersing in films like “The Weather Man” and “Rango.” “A Cure for Wellness,” a horror film set at a spa in the Swiss Alps, is definitely one for him. A powerful Wall Street banker, Pembroke (Harry Groener), runs off to a Swiss spa and writes back to his comrades about truths that he can’t unsee and that he’s not returning. An upstart young banker, Lockhart (Dane DeHaan), is sent to retrieve him. It’s not easy to get his boss on the next redeye back to New York. He suffers a car accident and broken leg, and everyone keeps pushing the special water on him. He’s drawn into the morbid tale of the place’s history, about a mad baron, a baroness, his sister, and the villagers who burned them to the ground. — Katie Walsh, Tribune News Service PG, 120 minutes. Through today only at Stonington. Still playing at Westbrook, Lisbon. Screenwriter Paddy Chayefsky said there are two kinds of scenes in screenplays: “the Pet the Dog scene and the Kick the Dog scene.” Canine love letter “A Dog’s Purpose” manages to work in both. You might be surprised that this sappy, family-friendly tribute to man’s best friend kills its main character within mere moments. A stray puppy is snapped up by an evil, net-wielding dog catcher, and soon he’s off to that nice farm in the sky, before his rebirth. This serves as the starting point for the circle of life and metaphysical journey of our puppy protagonist. The prevailing notion may be that all dogs indeed go to heaven, but “A Dog’s Purpose,” based on the book by W. Bruce Cameron, directed by Lasse Hallstrom, takes a different approach, suggesting that dogs are constantly reincarnated. We follow the lives of a pup voiced by Josh Gad: first, briefly, the stray puppy; then a red retriever named Bailey in the 1960s and ‘70s; Ellie, a German Shepherd K-9 police dog; Tino, an ‘80s corgi; and Buddy, a neglected St. Bernard. — Katie Walsh, Tribune News Service