Director: Bob Clark
Starring: Simon Rex, Jon Voight, Jamie Pressly, Pat Morita, and the disaffected voice of Chevy Chase.
Netflix Predicted Score: 1.8 stars
It is my sincerest regret that recent Screened community meme Cop Dog is not available on Netflix Instant streaming. However, just as god-awful, perhaps even more aggressively so, is the 2004 family action comedy The Karate Dog. This is the first movie in our train ride to hell here that actually features multiple actors that, at least at various points in history, garnered some manner of notoriety for their efforts. And now? Here they are, in a movie directed by the man who brought us Baby Geniuses, about a talking dog that knows two things: karate, and Chevy Chase-esque wisecracks. This movie is the kind of career suicide project that most actors never quite recover from—credit due to Jon Voight then, who despite going through this movie like a human bullet train of insane overacting, has managed to continue his checkered Hollywood career, mostly unscathed.
The Premise: Have a seat and pull out a stiff drink for this one, because you're in for a doozy. Pat Morita plays Chin Li, a vaguely defined Asian master of...something, who breaks into a secret laboratory, steals a mysterious green liquid, and is subsequently accosted by masked thugs who want said liquid back. A bit of awkward Pat Morita stuntman martial arts follows, but when he's knocked out, who comes to the rescue but Cho-Cho, Chin Li's loyal pet dog who, by the way, talks, and knows karate (not to get off on another martial arts rant here, but if Chin Li is Chinese, shouldn't the dog know Kung Fu?). A fantastically awful-looking CG Cho-Cho dispatches the bad guys with a mix of high flying dog kicks and something that resembles breakdance fighting, only to be unable to save his master in the end.
Enter Simon Rex as a San Francisco Police Department computer expert extraordinaire, who has apparently invented one of those magical police computers that all you have to do is “scan” evidence into and ask some vague questions about probability of gang activity and it'll barf out a motive using Lori Petty's voice (so THAT'S where she went). Him and his supercomputer attempt to take control of the crime scene, but the other detectives, who view Rex as something of a nerdy joke (can't imagine why) aren't having any of it. Cho-Cho, sensing a kindred spirit in seeking the truth behind Chin Li's death, crashes into Rex's life like a talking Hooch to his Turner. Of course, Rex is the only one he'll talk to, leading to lots of “hilarious antics” and "awkward misunderstandings" as they attempt to solve the case.
How Does All of That Go? This movie follows all the familiar beats of any light-hearted cop movie: Outcast cop knows what's really going on, but is ridiculed by his peers; love interest appears in a fellow familiar officer (Pressly) who respects Rex's desire to engage in genuine police work (because apparently this is a distinct rarity in the modern police department); and a villain with a nefarious plan so comically over-the-top that he might as well have wandered out of a Scooby Doo cartoon. The big revelation involves Voight's ludicrously dressed corporate mogul, Hamilton Cage, and his plan to create a youth-and-energy infusing formula to prevent people from aging, and make them infinitely stronger—a formula he starts by testing on animals at the dog track he owns. This leads to a lot of Mission: Impossible-flavored sneakery around Cage's lab, where Cho-Cho is dangling from a ceiling Ethan Hunt style, and scenes of Voight (who has been getting high on his own supply) morphing from a merely bug-eyed Southern gentleman into the equivalent of Foghorn Leghorn on mushrooms.
Most Career-Destroying Moment? Tough to say, as there are many, though to be fair, the only career in any jeopardy of being destroyed here is Voight's. It's not like Dirt Nasty or Jamie Pressly have been garnering much Oscar buzz over the last several years. It's either the scene where Voight, juiced out of his mind, manically decides to race a group of his own track hounds in the middle of the night, squealing with cackling glee all along the way, or it's the final battle sequence. The movie ends with an epic martial arts showdown between Cho-Cho and Voight, as well as Voight's hundred-pounds-lighter stuntman, and let me tell you, you haven't lived until you've seen Jon Voight duke it out with a haggard CG dog that sounds like Clark Griswold. And afterward? You won't want to. The copious ripping of fight choreography from The Matrix is pretty surreal, as well. See the below clip to understand what I'm talking about. I can't even try to describe it all. I've had fever dreams that were less terrifying than the reality of what took place during this scene.
So Is All the CG Dog Karate That Bad? You kidding? That's by far the best example of the shittiness on display here. It's not often I find myself pining for the technological advances shown by the likes of Marmaduke, but yeah, straight up, I never want to see a dog do karate again. And it troubles me deeply that I've reached that point in my life.
How's the Acting? Do you really need me to tell you? Voight seems well aware that he has no business being involved in this shit show, and crazys his way through his character's sort of gentlemanly unhinged demeanor like a cross between Hal Holbrook and the Juggernaut. Chevy Chase is every bit as disaffected as you'd expect Chevy Chase to be in a movie where he voices a talking dog. He definitely gives the impression he never bothered to read any of the other lines in his blocks of conversation beyond his own, leading to a lot of fantastically stilted, awkward dialogue with those around him. As for the rest? Well, Jamie Pressly is pretty much playing Jamie Pressly, Pat Morita seems grateful for his early death (in the movie!), and Simon Rex is about as believable a computer nerd as Tara Reid was a scientist in Alone in the Dark. I did appreciate the “just fucking go for it” attitude he displayed when called upon to show some shock and surprise at Cho-Cho's ability to speak. It's almost as if he just walked out of the “ Macaulay Culkin in Home Alone” school of acting. Just watch, and take note of the subtle nuance he shows as his character's world is turned upside down.
What Kind of Terrible Is This Movie? Cringe-inducingly terrible. Voight's performance provides a few bizarre laughs, but mostly, you just feel sorry for the guy as he parades around like a demented Kentucky Colonel. Everything else Karate Dog presents ranges between crucially dull and unbelievably stupid to the point where it runs a dog track circle around ironic enjoyment and right back around to just pure, unadulterated suck. So, hey, don't watch it!
Tomorrow: Wrong Side of Town
