Whenever I’m watching a programme that features an animal and I realise I’m expected to have a specific reaction to that animal, I run into a problem. I call it the Cuteness Assumptive Theory: Subjectivity in Television issue (CATSIT for short). It boils down to this: if the success of your show relies on my finding your lead actor scrumptious-wumptious, you’ve already failed.
We all like different things. The theory applies equally to humans. We all know that moment when some interchangeable heartthrob walks into the scene on a US sitcom.
All the characters lose their minds, this being apparently the hottest person on Earth, while you’re sitting thinking, ‘Huh?’ It happens with child stars too. Casting directors have a narrow spectrum of children they think will elicit an “awww” response from audiences. The response usually elicited in me is “Couldn’t they find a better actor?” I’m not trying to be liked here!
Anyway, it’s the animal version that came to mind this week, watching Dog Park. Dog Park (U, from Monday 24 August) centres on Roland, a misanthrope whose partner Emma has gone overseas for work. He’s been left in charge of their child, plus Beattie, a white poodle he never wanted.
A neighbour, Sam, kidnaps Beattie to take her to the park to play with her friends. Roland’s wife has arranged this; she knows Roland will be a terrible dog-dad, only taking Beattie on joyless solo jogs if at all. Forced into the company of walkers, Roland comes to realise the importance of community and the joy of pooches.
It sounds as trite as trifle, but hear me out. This downbeat comedy set in Victoria, Australia, is a surprisingly mature examination of male loneliness and midlife crisis. Roland is a borderline alcoholic grammar pedant who is quite literally running from depression.
Extract — continue reading at the source.
