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Based on a 1983 Japanese film, itself inspired by true events, the story follows the titular mutts abandoned in Antarctica, courtesy of the biggest storm in 25 years (and what other kind is there?), and the efforts of intrepid explorer Gerry Shepherd (Paul Walker) to return and save them. The canines fend for themselves as best they can in the harsh environment, while Shepherd looks for someone, anyone, to take him down south and help save the dogs.

Director Frank Marshall (Alive) knows just which buttons to push, establishing that the dogs are, in fact, too cute to die, and then placing them in peril, complete with bombastic score. He even arms them with a “days on their own”-o-meter for maximum pity potential. To his credit, he does sacrifice some canines, curbing some of the inevitable finale’s saccharine tendencies whilst giving the old heartstrings a tug or three. With the exception of a single solid seal scare, everything about the story feels calculated. Then again, the director wisely avoids a forced romantic subplot, and matters could very well have been even more manipulative. What works is not so much about what Marshall does right, but about what he opts to exclude entirely.

Bruce Greenwood, whose character Shepherd saved makes a convenient contribution towards his mission, does his best with a relatively flat role, and the same goes for Walker. Jason Biggs does occasionally shine as the obligatory comic sidekick, but it almost would had been better not to know that there was potential for something above average when every other facet is dead-set on being typical. As expected, the canine characters end up outshining the cast, but it seems impossible to NOT anthropomorphize animals in any film nowadays. Of course, they’re adorable and courageous and enduring and endearing. They have no say in the matter. There isn’t an angle from which the dogs don’t appear to be clever and valiant, and the film never asks for anything less.

As the end credits began to roll, the gray-haired vixen to my left inquired as to what I had thought of the film, and before I could respond, she placed her hand upon my shoulder and told me how beautifully shot it was and how it had great values about loyalty and devotion, which are in short supply today. Between the behavior of her geriatric posse and the several toddlers in the audience, I’ve come to conclude that 'Eight Below' has greatest appeal to those whose diets consist of either Centrum or Cheerios. Considering how generic the entire affair is, it would appear that the filmmakers had the most basic of criteria for their audience: must love dogs.

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originally posted: 02/17/06 17:46:08
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