Like all great films, The Plague Dogs blindsided me. I was expecting a similar kiddie cheesefest ala the enjoyable but lightweight Watership Down, but lemme tell you folks, Marten Rosen’s second adapation of a Richard Adams novel is a whole lot darker affair. The opening is a knockout…a dog is gasping for air as the camera slowly pans back, gradually revealing a horrific scientific experiment. The scientists are measuring how long the dog can paddle water, and then seeing how long he can survive a drowning. They revive him at the last moment, and send him back to his cage.

The dog, Rowf, can’t take this shit anymore, and he says as much. Rowf’s best friend is the slightly mad Snitter, who has a large bandage attached to his head from a neurological experiment, which we can guess was as equally cruel as Rowf’s daily endurance tests. The Plague Dogs ain’t no fun time talking animals flick…this is gruesome, tragic, and often philosophical examination of not just the cruelties of vivisection, but a meditation upon the nature of rebellion, risk, freedom, and even political realities. There is nothing cuddly or fun about these animals, and I can only point to retarded fare such as Madagascar as a sharp contrast to make you appreciate how extraordinary this film is. Sure, these dogs are talking, but there is simply nothing human about them. And that makes Rowf and Snitter all the more sympathetic.

It wouldn’t be a movie without a proper breakout, which is superbly depicted with nerve wracking, edge of your seat panache. The escape smoothly reveals the contrasting personalities of Rowf and Snitter. The more burly and down to earth Rowf, though fed up as Snitter, is terrified of change and taking risks. Snitter, a little off his nut but clever and resourceful, has to verbally browbeat Rowf into escaping. Snitter’s problem is the occasional memory lapse and trouble distinguishing reality from hallucinations, symptoms of his brain being tinkered with. These mental hangups eventually become a serious problem for Snitter, and Rowf becomes the proverbial character kicking the jukebox to get Snitter back into sync. The co-dependency between Rowf and Snitter is never annoying or contrived, but set up as a convincing premise of two dogs desperately trying to help each other survive.

As the fugitives roam the hills of the Lake District, the scientists are desperate to get the dogs back, lest their animal experimentation are exposed. The dogs’ escape becomes a political hot potato, but Rowf and Snitter are obviously not aware of it, or would even understand their importance. The dogs eventually take up with a “tod” (fox), a cryptic, cynical but helpful figure that teaches them the ways of brutal wilderness survival. I was captivated by the unapologetic, natural, and honest tone of these key scenes.

The animation of The Plague Dogs evolved greatly from the scratchy, jerky movements of Watership Down. The character design and landscapes are fluid, and the dogs’ coats shine with a disturbing reality. There are several wonderfully experimental camera angles that look straight out of some New Hollywood flick, and indeed, I would class this dark, nihilistic film as such. (The Plague Dogs came out of 1982, arguably the last year and gasp of the New Hollywood movement). The ending is magnificent, and very much changed from the book. I would say for the better, but that’s an argument for another day.

Tags: martin rosen, plague dogs, richard adams

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