Setting aside anticipation for the reboot of a certain caped crusader, there’s another three-hour film releasing this week based on ‘30s source material and set in a crumbling metropolis on the cusp of succumbing to a criminal element. It may not have any vanquishing heroes, but it does center on a struggling moralist: German filmmaker Dominik Graf’s “Fabian: Going to the Dogs,” a fleet, gritty and unruly adaptation of Erich Kästner’s autobiographical Weimar-era novel, set in a Berlin marked by an ever-widening chasm between societal hopes and daily realities. Show Like a sympathetic nod from a European neighbor to the rich dramatic sweep of the Italian epic “Martin Eden” from a few years ago, “Fabian” puts realism and idealism in stark contrast by way of an observant but complicated young man condemned to live in interesting times. In a casually virtuosic opening shot, Graf wants us to realize how not that far back those times were, starting in the now at one end of a Berlin subway station, traveling the length of the platform amid present day commuters, before emerging aboveground to 1931 clothing, Nazi posters and our protagonist. A cigarette ad-copy writer with suppressed literary talent, Jakob Fabian (Tom Schilling) isn’t blind to the turbulence curdling the air — he can bemoan the lack of altruism in the world with the best of them, even if the occasional lip he gives the snobby waiters at his favorite café feels more self-gratifying than meaningful. He’s more content playing the aloof hedonist, frequenting Berlin’s seedier clubs and navigating their temptations alongside his more politically conscious but emotionally troubled friend Stephan Labude (Albrecht Schuch), who comes from wealth yet talks like a sentimental socialist. One night, Fabian’s night-crawling crosses paths with smart, beautiful legal trainee and aspiring actress Cornelia (Saskia Rosendahl). When they fall in love, he’s spurred to put the various elements of his unexamined life — money, desire, family and the future — in sharper focus, allowing him the chance to hope. But is there a place in an increasingly dire, desperate and cruel society for someone whose inherent kindness and social intelligence are only now being put to the test? Graf, whose long career in Germany includes a lot of television, has a serialist’s energy when it comes to Kästner’s winding narrative (which Graf co-adapted with Constantin Lieb). Following “Fabian” is like keeping up with someone on a jazzy, heady bender. Stylistically, it’s rough too and willfully chaotic in the early going, marked by jarring music cues, snatches of Super 8mm, blips of archival footage, omniscient voice-over (male and female) and even split screen, as if Graf were out to cinematically evoke the intoxicating bluntness of the merciless Weimar painters like George Grosz and Otto Dix. It takes some getting used to, and there are sequences more awkward in their motley-ness than pointed. But overall, it’s an effectively crashing intimacy created by the performances (especially the fizz and warmth Schilling and Rosendahl have together), Claudia Wolscht’s restless editing and Hanno Lentz’s camerawork. Graf’s approach is admirably less enamored with the prettifying impulses so many filmmakers rely on to capture the past, and instead centered on putting us inside it. It reaps dividends too when the story hits its more melodramatic spots, and the hangover of cynicism and optimism reveals the tragedy of where this trio of lives is headed. There couldn’t be a more auspicious time for a movie about well-intentioned, troubled souls on the precipice of authoritarianism. You might be inclined to get your Gotham fix in first if brooding escapism is what calls you at this tipping point for a world waiting to see how good confronts bad. But cinema also needs dynamic, expansive, almost hand-cranked works like “Fabian: Going to the Dogs,” about people in times that existed, meeting challenges — or not — in ways that echo through history. Fabian tells his friend Labude, “I observe. Isn’t that enough?” Labude answers, “Whom does it help?” ‘Fabian: Going to the Dogs’ In German with English subtitles Not rated Running time: 2 hours, 56 minutes Playing: Starts March 4, Laemmle Playhouse 7, Pasadena; Laemmle Royal, West Los Angeles; Laemmle Town Center 5, Encino
 If he thought about it, Briggs (Channing Tatum) might believe that the injuries from his service as an Army Ranger have taken everything he had and everything he needed. But he does not think about it. Despite his doctor’s warnings that he has some permanent impairment, he's determined to get back into the Rangers. Service gives him structure, purpose, fellowship, and enough adrenaline to not have to think about the many things he doesn't want to think about, including how much more there is still to lose. Briggs needs sign-off from an officer to be readmitted to the Rangers, who call themselves “the Army's premier direct-action raid force.” He has been repeatedly turned down. Finally, an officer says he will authorize Briggs’ reinstatement if he will perform one task, delivering an Army dog to the funeral of a veteran who served with Briggs. The dog is Lulu, a sweet-faced Belgian Malinois who performed many brave rescue operations, but who now is so severely traumatized from being in a war zone that no one can go near her. She has sent three people to the emergency room and been deemed un-salvageable. Until the funeral, she is muzzled and on Prozac. After the funeral, she is scheduled to be put down. Briggs, who has said he would do anything to get back into the service, does not want to do this. “You’re asking me to take a dog on a plane to Arizona?” The officer responds, “I’m asking you to drive a Ranger to a funeral.” The dog is too unstable to fly; indeed, Briggs is warned not to let her near any person or animal. But if Briggs can deliver Lulu with no mistakes and no trouble, he can get the approval he needs. Of course, there will be mistakes and there will be trouble on the road from Oregon to Arizona by way of Los Angeles. There will also be connections from the past, both in person and via an extensive, heartfelt, and very detailed notebook kept by Lulu’s Ranger handler. Tatum the actor responds exceptionally well to Tatum the co-director (along with co-screenwriter Reid Carolin, both directing a feature for the first time). In his previous films, Tatum has mostly relied on his natural all-American charm, a boy-we’d-like-to-have-next-door combination of confident strength and self-deprecating humor. We have seen him unhappy and under stress but almost always as a character who keeps those feelings hidden. Here we see his range, with more vulnerability than he has shown on screen before. Briggs tries his utmost to hide his struggle from everyone, including himself. But Tatum lets us see it, without consideration for movie star vanity. Carolin and Tatum play it safe in some other choices, though, with too many sun flares and postcard-pretty shots of the beautiful western countryside and some on-the-nose song selections for the soundtrack. We do not need to hear Kenny Rogers singing “The Gambler” again; when it comes to that song, it is time to fold ‘em. One of the stops on the road trip is in Portland, and the tired jokes about too-twee Portlandia-ness and Briggs’ efforts to adapt in order to get laid wear thin fast. What we’re there to see is two wounded warriors, one human, one canine, heal each other, and that works well. There are some surprising detours along the way, with some characters more interesting than the crunchy Portlandians. The always-welcome Jane Adams brings her delicate sensibility to a character who could easily have been caricatured. Interactions with two other vets also benefit from thoughtful performances. Both Briggs and Lulu learn that the skills they relied on in the military might need to be un-learned, or at least kept in check. Lulu knocks down a man in a hotel lobby only because he is wearing Middle Eastern robes. Briggs learns that perhaps you don’t enter someone’s property the way you enter enemy territory, even if you think your dog might be there. They also learn that those skills can have some value in a civilian life, as long as Briggs and Lulu learn to think differently about what they are trying to accomplish with them. “Dog” is uneven in tone and quality but shows promise in the way Tatum and Carolin approach the story with care and heart. It leaves us optimistic for the future ahead for the wounded warriors and for the people who told their story. Now playing in theaters.
Nell MinowNell Minow is the Contributing Editor at RogerEbert.com. Now playingFilm CreditsDog (2022)Rated PG-13 for language, thematic elements, drug content and some suggestive material. 101 minutes Latest blog posts
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1 day ago CommentsIs the movie Dog worth seeing?Dog is actually a lot of fun, and it really earns the emotional beats. This does exactly what it says on the tin. But I enjoyed it much more than I expected to. So what if star and co-director Channing Tatum lays on the sniffles in this tale of an Army Ranger and a K9 warrior named Lulu.
Is the movie Dog a sad movie?While “Dog” is often funny, it's not a comedy. Though it's often sad, it's not a tragedy either. Instead, it's a sensitive, engaging, realistic look at what happens when a soldier's toughest battle starts when they come home.
Is the Dog in movie Dog real?Not only was production halted by COVID-19, but they learned making a movie with a Belgian Malinois star is a breed of its own. Three different dogs played the role of Lulu, and Tatum spent almost a year warming up to them.
What was the movie Dog based on?Tatum co-directed "Dog" with his "Magic Mike" partner Reid Carolin, basing Carolin's fictional script on a 2017 HBO documentary, "War Dog: A Soldier's Best Friend," that they co-produced. Even when "Dog" comes perilously close to sinking into sentimental quicksand, the movie is an indisputable act of love.
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