Get ready for a howling good time as an all new assortment of irresistible animal heroes are unleashed in this great family tail! In an unlikely alliance, the outrageous Waddlesworth... a parrot wh...
102 Dalmatians packs an additional “woof” within its spotted story. Diggy-diggy-dog, diggy-diggy-dog. Remember when Disney’s live action remakes used to have heart and were not solely made to generate innumerable amounts of money? No? Well, here’s a reminder. The adaptation of ‘101 Dalmatians’ back in ‘96 was typically held in high regard thanks to a cruel performance in Glenn Close. Four years later, and in usual Disney fashion, a sequel was produced. Absolutely unnecessary and beyond mediocre, you might ask? Correct. Yet, personally, there’s a fully grown nostalgic attachment for this guilty pleasure that has me barking mad for more.
Three years after the events of the first film, Cruella has now been rehabilitated by a doctor (Dr. Pavlov...as in “Pavlov’s Dog”...) whom has suppressed her desire to make fur coats from dalmatians. That is until she succumbs to the piercing gongs of Big Ben, undoing the hypnosis that prevented her from hunting down spotted puppies, as she now desires precisely one hundred and two dalmatians in order to manufacture her fur coat equipped with additional spotted hood.
As mentioned previously, this sequel’s predecessor never warranted a continuation of the story. Yet, here we are. Dipstick, a puppy from the first film, has now grown up and produced a litter of his own. Aside from that and Cruella’s persistent antagonistic nature, there are no continuations and essentially retreads the same narrative paw prints. A macaw who believes he is a rottweiler, Waddlesworth, acted as the comic relief for younger viewers yet was hugely irritating for the rest of us, no fault of Idle’s charming voiceover. The production design failed to disguise its obvious sets, with two-dimensional backdrops being incredibly noticeable. And the story often felt like a humongous advertisement for dog rescue centres as opposed to a cohesive story about Oddball and her lack of s-p-o-t-s.
However, I find myself veering into the dog pound to collate these pooches and gently coerce them into granting me another adventure. There is a strange, fun allurement that surrounds these canines. The seamless visual effects, the utterly astounding training that masterfully allowed them to interact with the environment, from opening locked doors to choosing clothes for a date. Oddball and Kevin’s selection of rescue dogs, each harnessing characteristics that make them stand out as dogs. It’s not just the differing breeds, but their personalities. Maybe, being an ex-dog owner, it’s far more relatable than others may assume. Yet really, the highlight once again is Close’s performance as Cruella de Vil. Sometimes, all it takes is one role, one genuinely decent performance, to transform a poor movie into a memorable experience. Close does that, and more. The hyperbolic villainous cackles. The hunger for “doggies”. The sheer schizophrenic lunacy one would find in a pantomime. It’s so damn enjoyable to watch Close tackle every scene with zero regrets. Heck, she turns into a giant cake by the film’s conclusion! The rest of the cast? Forgettable, and very Disney-esque if you catch my dog biscuit.
Re-watching childhood features can often be a tragic curse. Many, unfortunately, do not live up to the dazzling light you once shon upon them. Regrettably, 102 Dalmatians mimics its predecessor all too much, equipped with a patchy screenplay, for it to be considered good. In saying that however, the immediate fun factor from Close’s performance and the multitude of adorable “poopies”, maintains a level of nostalgia that makes disliking this film incredibly difficult. You’ll have a woofing good time, guaranteed!
