That's Not My Dog! (2018)
THAT'S NOT MY DOG is a joyous comedy that celebrates
our love of joke telling. The film centers around the lovable Shane
Jacobson (playing himself) who is throwing a party. Invited are the ...
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Director:
Dean MurphyStars:
THAT'S NOT MY DOG is a joyous comedy that celebrates our love of joke
telling. The film centers around the lovable Shane Jacobson (playing
himself) who is throwing a party. Invited are the funniest people Shane
knows comprising of Australia's biggest stars along with several
Australian music legends playing their biggest hits live, right
throughout the party. The invite that goes out is clear. Don't bring
meat. We'll provide the beer. Just come armed with nothing but the
funniest jokes you've ever heard. Shane will take care of the rest.
It'll be a night of great friends telling the world's funniest jokes
over a beer and BBQ.
A
bunch of people coming around for dinner and cracking jokes over a few
beers and wines ... is that a compelling idea for a feature film? The
director Dean Murphy and his ubiquitous star/producer, Shane Jacobson –
who is increasingly giving the impression of being a person happy not
just to attend the opening of an envelope but to star in a feature film
about such an event – believe the answer is a firm yes.
The twist is that the guests of the true-blue soirée held in That’s
Not My Dog! are well-known Australian comedians, instructed to bring
with them their three funniest jokes of all time. The guest list is
impressive – including Jacobson, Paul Hogan, Jimeoin, Paul Fenech,
Michala Banas, Steve Vizard, Fiona O’Loughlin, Tim Ferguson, Lehmo, Ed
Kavalee, Rob Carlton, Christie Whelan Browne, Hung Le and Lulu
McClatchy.
The resulting film is almost entirely comprised of the rendition of
their jokes, unaccompanied by visualisations or aesthetic
embellishments. By “almost entirely” I do not mean lots of jokes are
interspersed throughout the inevitable dialogue, character motivation
and plot. I mean there is, with the exception of two very short scenes –
maybe three minutes of running time – no dialogue, character motivation
and plot. Nothing but jokes. Jokes, jokes and jokes.
This premise is pretty bloody ’strayan, and pretty bloody lazy;
literally a matter of getting people to tell jokes and filming them.
Every cast member deserves to be credited as a co-director, and perhaps
as a writer (assuming the material is original – and this is a big
assumption given the campfire-yarn nature of much of it). It is unlikely
anybody will be crying out for acknowledgement, however, given the
final result, which is clearly ill-fitted to the cinematic medium. A web
series, perhaps, would have been a better format.
That’s Not My Dog!’s marketing materials inform us that “The greatest
jokes ever told ... get told.” Rest assured these are not the greatest
jokes ever told. Unless “greatest” includes puns such as “you have to
hand it to blind prostitutes” and “why can’t Stevie Wonder see his
friends? Because he’s married.” There are longer, rantier ones,
including one I quite liked but which sounds lame as soon as you write
it down – an anecdote about a murderous boy who lives in a world
populated by inflatable people, and “lets everybody down”.
There are precisely 86 jokes in total. Jacobson, mistaking
quantity for quality, boasted of this number during his introduction at a
recent screening, explaining that smartphones are killing the ancient
craft of joke-telling, and this film constitutes an attempt to save it.
The actor has now completed a hat trick of duds, following the
dunderheaded cooking comedy The BBQ and hammy schlock fest Guardians of the Tomb. His next film, Brother’s Nest, which premieres in Australia in April, will mark four new Jacobson movies in three months.
Something resembling an actual, scripted scene (the horror!) is
squeezed into That’s Not My Dog! about three quarters of the way
through. It is a tender moment between Jacobson and his real-life
father, Ronald, who is the very definition of a natural screen presence –
perfect (as he was in Kenny) as the lovable, cranky coot.
Apropos of nothing, Ronald asks Shane: “What’s the guts of this
party? What’s it really all about?” Shane explains the whole shindig was
for him, to say thanks for raising the family with a great appreciation
of comedy. It is a sweet moment but boy is it cloying, pushing its
lovey-doveyness into the viewer’s face like a custard pie. It also feels
like emotional blackmail. This film was made for good ol’ dad, the
message reads. What sort of monster can’t appreciate a film for good ol’
dad?
The director also intermittently cuts to extreme close-ups of brands
including Tyrrells chips and Dick Smith sauces, in moments that feel not
so much like blatant product placement as short commercial breaks.
Shooting the film on a cold and dark night (an unusual choice: why
not a bright summer’s day?) Murphy slathers almost every scene with live
music from The Black Sorrows, Russell Morris, Adam Brand, Dan Kelly and
The Meltdown. I think I saw a shot of the same keyboardist recycled a
dozen times. The use of music is so extensive there is a compelling case
to be made that That’s Not My Dog! is a concert documentary first and –
what do we even call this? – a joke compilation second.
If you like the music, the volume is constantly reduced to allow us
to hear the supposed “greatest jokes ever told”. If you’re there for the
jokes, you’ll discover the film constantly reverting back to the music.
It is a cruel, vicious, dyspeptic cycle. Towards the end one naturally
contemplates their own mortality, longing for the moment when the screen
dissolves into dust and a voice beckons to walk towards the light – the
green one that says “EXIT”.
Thanks for reading and have fun watching movies.
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