My Dog Skip

MY DOG SKIP opens with a slow pan across the knickknacks that line the shelves of a WW-II era boy’s bedroom. It’s drenched in the golden light of treasured memory, and an orchestral score glides along in the background.

It’s deadly dull. And the movie doesn’t get any better from there.

Here’s a picture about a boy who falls in love with a dog. This should speak to me. I, after all, was a boy. And I had a dog. But everything’s too precious, every memory too golden, and everything too slow. Watching MY DOG SKIP is like being stuck in a plane with some guy who’s just dying to tell you the story of his life but lacks the ability to make that story interesting. You smile, you nod, you try to change the subject (to yourself because, let’s face it, you’re far more interesting), but on he drones. And on and on and on.

Sure, the movie looks fine. Kevin Bacon and Diane Lane, as the parents, are fine. Frankie Muniz, as the boy, is fine. But I just wanted the plane to land so I could get away.

Vacancy

So this is how the career path goes: break out with an international success, accept an invitation to Hollywood, and make your bones as a commercial director in genre fare such as VACANCY.

At least, this is how it's going for Nimród Antal, the Hungarian director of 2003's remarkable KONTROLL. Where KONTROLL was haunting, dreamlike, and rather puzzling, VACANCY is a straightforward horror thriller whose every beat will seem familiar to anyone who has ever seen a picture that begins with someone saying, "Why didn't you stay on the interstate?" That said, VACANCY is a very professional "Don't Get Off The Interstate" horror thriller: a step up from MOTEL HELL, though not in the same league as PSYCHO (which it recalls through clever use of 60's-style opening and closing credits).

Here's the setup: Kate Beckinsale wakes up in the passenger seat of a car driving through the toolies in the middle of the night. She turns to her husband (Luke Wilson, who's been going heavy on the electrolytes) and says, "Why'd you get off the interstate?" Things go downhill from there.

And that's it, really. The rest is in the execution, and it's here that Antal proves himself an able craftsman. He finds novel ways to build and maintain suspense, though we all know what's coming next and who'll still be on two feet when the credits roll. He manages to create suitably creepy villains, alternates well between jump-scares and slow burns, and even manages to work in a bit of subtle comedy. In other words, the guy takes a familiar subgenre out of the garage, puts some gas in the tank, and takes it for a fun spin.

But this is Nimród Antal, the guy behind KONTROLL, we're talking about. Next time, I hope they let him get off the interstate.