Film Review: Artist’s feature film ‘Heart of a Dog’ defies categorization
“Heart of a Dog” — no relation to the Mikhail Bulgakov novel of the same name — is Laurie Anderson’s first theatrical feature since her 1986 concert film “Home of the Brave.”
It’s as hard to define as Anderson: Is it a documentary? A canine biopic? A stream of consciousness ramble? If it’s impossible to categorize, let’s then characterize it. In very rough terms, it’s halfway between Guy Maddin’s quasi-autobiographical “My Winnipeg” and any of Jean-Luc Godard’s last 20 releases.
“Heart of a Dog” presents itself as a sort of remembrance/tribute to the director’s late dog Lolabelle — a rat terrier who was with her for an unspecified but clearly long time. And that’s certainly one of its central elements. But Lolabelle also serves as a trigger for Anderson’s questions and meditations. She is the rat terrier equivalent of Proust’s madeleine.
The movie opens with the artist introducing us to her dream body, which is presented in the sort of shaky animation that Richard Linklater used in “Waking Life” and “A Scanner Darkly.”
Narrating over the images — as she does for most of the film — Anderson describes a sweet and funny dream that makes explicit her maternal feelings toward Lolabelle. “Hello, little bonehead,” she says as the sequence ends, “I’ll love you forever.”
This may sound saccharine, like most of the million and one cat and dog videos that blanket the Internet, but let’s just call it sentimental (like only a few of those YouTube clips). And what’s more worthy of genuine sentiment than our pets?
“Heart of a Dog” is made up of stills, animation, genuine Lolabelle footage, maybe some Lolabelle recreations, and home movies going back to Anderson’s childhood. Plus, of course, music and words.
Mixed in with quotes from Wittgenstein, Kierkegaard, and David Foster Wallace are musings about 9/11, Buddhism, death, technology, family, love, an NSA data vault, aging, language, art and a few dozen other interwoven subjects.
Anderson tells stories about the deaths of friends and, more prominently, of her mother. Conspicuously absent is any mention of the death of her husband, Lou Reed, who appears on screen two or three times for no more than seconds.
One might think this is an aesthetic trick to draw attention by defying audience expectations, but she has been adamant that “Heart of a Dog” is not about him.
This may all sound pretentiously deep-dish, but Anderson’s wit is enough to keep that tone at bay. Lolabelle doesn’t hurt a bit either. Among their other characteristics, dogs — even the stateliest of dogs — are, well, goofy. And Lolabelle has a wider range of incongruous activities than most of her species-mates. She wears flip-flops! She creates art! She plays keyboards (not badly, believe it or not)!
Anderson’s voice is soft, and she sometimes holds on shots unusually long, so it’s possible that some viewers will find the pace soporific, particularly if they expect a sequel to “Reservoir Dogs” or “Amores Perros.” But among the movie’s virtues is its brevity; it clocks in an about an hour and a quarter.
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ANDY KLEIN is the film critic for Marquee. He can also be heard on “FilmWeek” on KPCC-FM (89.3).