BEVERLY HILLS CHIHUAHUA - Blu-ray review

Two things blind critics as much as snow blowing full-gale across the highway: good buzz and hype, or worse, low expectations. All I had to see was the title of this film and a trailer to find myself thinking, How many movies with talking animals have there been that have actually wowed anybody? "Babe," right? After that you're going to have to jog my memory, because the list of turkeys and dogs goes on forever. I'd cite a few, but they're forgettable, of course, and "Beverly Hills Chihuahua" is the latest entry in a curious genre that I assume is aimed at small children and pet owners. Considering that this one is directed by Raja Gosnell ("Big Momma's House," "Scooby-Doo"), I was ready to paw the back door to be let outside.

But as I watched with my seven year old (who gives it four stars out of four, by the way), I thought, this Disney doggie-talkie isn't half-bad. Then again, it probably is half bad because it's only literally half-good. The plot's a suitcase full of old clothes, and there aren't enough clever lines inserted that might keep non pet-owning adults from enjoying this other than as a parent gratified to see their little one having fun. Sometimes the special effects are the equivalent of a dog on a bungee cord that's airbrushed out (again, literally). But like the Buddies movies that feature a pack of tiny talking golden retrievers, "Beverly Hills Chihuahua" also has a few positives going for it.

For one thing, there's thankfully not a lot of the scatological "smell my butt?" nonsense that's become a staple for talking animal pictures. Flatulence? Fat chance. Parents will be pleased to know that the sophomoric stuff is missing, mostly. As for innuendo, there are only a few instances, and they're so embedded in fast-paced dialogue that even adults might not pick up on them. And it's hard to find fault with the object lessons on adopting stray animals and having respect for people of other classes. You also have to hand it to the animal trainers and give Gosnell credit for capturing what they've done on-camera, because these animal actors are better than many of the humans I've seen over the past year. I can picture dog owners out there watching and thinking how they can't even get their pooch to stop humping the couch pillows, yet a German shepherd is trained in this film to repeatedly pick up a tiny Chihuahua in its mouth and run with it, drop it in a puddle, heft it onto a railroad boxcar--all gently enough so the end credits could reassure that no animals were harmed during the making of this film.

Kids will respond to this one because it's a fiesta of color--again, literally in some scenes. Part of "Beverly Hills Chihuahua" was filmed in Beverly Hills and the studio back lot, but the bulk of it was shot in Mexico: Mexico City, Guadalajara, Hemosillo, Las Palmas, Nuevo Vallarta, Puerto Vallarta, Sayulita, and Xochimilco. Unfortunately, writers Analisa LaBianco, Jeffrey Bushell and director Gosnell miss the chance to turn this into a cross-cultural teaching moment for their young audience. Apart from a brief comment on a Día de lost Muertos parade, the film instead offers the usual Latino stereotypes and the kind of fast-talking Cheech Marin (Manuel), George Lopez (Papi) dialogue that kids are going to grow up thinking is a standard part of Hispanic culture--things like "What? We're Mexican, not Mexican't!" or ""What? Someone stole Chloe's collar? Why, I'm gonna go all kinds of Mexican on them."

The dogs themselves are fun to watch, and the plot is substantial (albeit familiar) enough to engage its target audience. Chloe (voiced by Drew Barrymore) is a pampered white Chihuahua whose owner (Jamie Lee Curtis, seen only briefly at beginning and end) runs Vivacity Cosmetics. This pet is so pampered that she has pet play dates and her own island in the swimming pool, and the same constant fawning attention that the other Beverly Hills dogs receive. But you know her life is going to change the instant that Viv has to go abroad and decides to leave her prized possession (yep, that's how she treats this dog) in the care of her irresponsible niece, Rachel (Piper Perabo). It doesn't take long before Rachel and her friends are piling into a convertible and going to Mexico for a "whooooooo" spring break sort of trip, taking Chloe along but ignoring her. Shades of "101 Dalmatians" she's captured by dognappers who want her not for a fur coat, but for illegal dogfights. And instead of Cruella De Vil we get a slippery underworld character named Vasquez (José María Yazpik). Whether it's "Get those puppies!" or "I want that Chihuahua!" the result is the same: a chase we've seen before, with helpers on both sides.

But shades of "Lady and the Tramp" (and "Oliver & Company"), Chloe is befriended by a streetwise dog. In this case it's a German shepherd named Delgado (Andy Garcia), who turns out to be a former police dog. Not coincidentally, Vasquez's dog is a mean Doberman named Diablo (Edward James Olmos) who once crossed paths with Delgado and his former police partner-owner. That sets up an interesting-enough double-pronged plot. A romantic double sideplot involves Rachel and her Aunt Viv's gardener (Manolo Cardona) and Chloe and her scruffy low-class gardening Chihuahua suitor Papi, while the comic relief is provided by an unlikely pairing of a con-artist rat and iguana, and a thundering herd of wild Chihuahuas that Chloe encounters in pre-Columbian ruins.

It all adds up to a pretty formulaic outing and the writing isn't the most clever ("Hey, you wanna go have a drink later? There's a great puddle by the garage."), but it should be a hit with the kids, especially ones under 10. In truth, it's not too painful for adults to sit through, either. I've seen far worse "family movies."

Video:
I've watched both the Blu-ray and DVD versions, and in this case it would take a frame-by-frame comparison to tell much of a difference in level of detail, amount of grain, or true colors. That tells me the source materials were pretty good to start with. This was shot with Super 35 film using Digital Intermediate master format. Though it was listed as showing in theaters at 2.35:1 aspect ratio, it's 2.40:1 here. Except for one section that has some quavering artifacts, the transfer (AVC/MPEG-4, BD-50) appears to be a good one. But the picture never has the kind of 3-D pop you'd expect, and some sections seem a little soft.

Audio:
Disney went with an English 5.1 PCM uncompressed (48kHz/24-bit) featured audio, with additional options in English, French, and Spanish Dolby Digital 5.1. As with the video, it doesn't blow you away, but there's a nice purity of sound and a robust-enough bass to make it fill your home theater. There's also a nice use of the rear speakers to channel street and ambient sounds. Subtitles are in English SDH and Spanish.

Extras:
If there's an incentive to go Blu, it's the bonus features. On big titles Disney has also been including a DVD, but not here. Instead, there's a nice feature on the voices behind the dogs, another one on the animal actors, and additional deleted scenes with introductions by the director. All of them are fun to watch. The Blu-ray version is also BD-Live enabled, but does anybody care? I personally wish studios would stop wasting time and money on BD-Live and work on getting Blu-rays to load more quickly and restart with ease after you pause/stop them, rather than defaulting to the main menu load.

But that's only the Blu-ray exclusives. Also included here are bonus features from the DVD: more deleted scenes (with commentary), a "Blooper Scooper" reel, a cute "Legend of the Chihuahua" animated short, and a feature commentary by director Gosnell. He takes this far more seriously than you'd expect and covers the usual bases, but the other bonus features are cute enough for the kids to watch.

Bottom Line:
Parents with children know the symptoms. If kids get distracted while they're watching and start doing other things, you know you've just wasted your money and you might as well try to trade it in. But if the kids want to watch the movie again within a day or so, you know it's a keeper. Both my seven-year-old girl and 11-year-old boy were eager to see this one again, for what it's worth. And me? I didn't mind. The writing isn't clever ("Talk to the paw"?) and the plot is familiar, but those dogs are just a lot of fun to watch.