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Peggy, the hero of writer Mike White’s directing debut has a lot of love to give. But on the bad side of 40, the only recipient of that love is her dog Pencil. As played by SNL alum Molly Shannon, Peggy is wide-eyed and bushytailed, much like Pencil. There’s something strange about single people with pets, especially woman. Dogs love unconditionally, and require only food, water, and a daily walk. People love conditionally, and require physical, emotional, and sexual upkeep. Dogs are easier, but there’s no reason to think Peggy can’t have a boyfriend. When asked if she’s ever been married, she answers, “No... That I mean that I never, you know I guess I never... that... that... that never happened. But I think some people just aren't as... you know... I don't know. It's like that, I guess.” Logic only a dog would understand.

When Pencil dies in the neighbor’s side yard, Molly is inconsolable. The only person, place, or thing to accept her affection is gone. Sure, her co-workers appreciate the donuts she brings to the office, but that’s not love. And love is complicated anyway. Her office friend Layla (fun, bubbly Regina King) is pressuring her boyfriend to propose, even though he’s unfaithful. Who needs that noise? But Layla does have a point: maybe she should take care of a man instead of a dog. But a man is not Peggy’s journey, at least it’s not Peggy’s journey in the events of this film. Peggy, without Pencil, is lost. The irony is, Peggy with Pencil is also lost, but she was too busy taking care of her dog to realize it.

Molly Shannon, the SNL veteran whose career has required her to play to the rafters, is well cast and really good. Although she brings herself down to levels I thought impossible of her, there’s still some exaggeration in her glances and line readings that is perfectly appropriate. Peggy has so much love to give and only dogs to give it to. Even in her darkest times, the light still shines from her. Yet Shannon’s triumph is that Peggy does many unlikable things, but Peggy is never unlikable. Peggy suspects that her neighbor Al (John C. Reilly) killed Pencil. She has no hard evidence of this other than his knife collection and stuffed deer heads mounted on the walls. But she’s convinced and even breaks into his garage to investigate. Knowing who killed Pencil is satisfying as closure, but it won’t help Peggy get on with her life. For that, she needs Newt (Peter Saarsgard), a dog trainer who befriends Peggy and threatens to become her first boyfriend in a very long while. He’s a vegan, so she becomes a vegan. She’s propelled down a slope of animal activism that will give her life meaning. And that’s why White’s film is so special. Dogs are only a placeholder for whatever you think gives a person’s life meaning. That someone or something, if not found, will render a life less than what it should be.

Sometimes though, Peggy’s newfound zest for animal welfare goes too far. But again, you never dislike her for it. When she takes her niece to an animal sanctuary and scars her for what her parents believe will be life, that’s not nice. But it comes from a place we can all understand. When Peggy forges her bosses name on checks to an animal fund, that’s a crime. But it’s a crime of the heart. The movie is sentimental, but it’s never cutesy. Peggy learns to be selfless. By the end of this wonderful little picture, Peggy still doesn’t have a boyfriend and she still loves dogs. But now she’s found an outlet for her selfless generosity that’s as wide as her heart is big.

The Video: How Does The Disc Look?

The film’s theatrical aspect ratio of 1.85:1 is presented in anamorphic video. This movie would have benefited from a better transfer. It’s okay; no one will hate the movie because of the transfer, but the bright colors and squared-off shot composition scream for crystal clear images. And this transfer, while definitely fine, didn’t go the extra mile. Sharpness is okay, but some of the wider shots looked soft. Detail is decent. There’s a lot going on in cubicles and on desks and while the detail was good enough to clearly discern objects, things like lettering tend to get blurry before they could be read. The color palette is rather bright and pastel, which is a great choice, but the transfer is only moderately bright. At first I thought the colors were a tad subdued because of the depressingly generic work environments. Exteriors had soft and even lighting that was pleasing, but didn’t pop.

My biggest complaint is grain. This should not be a grainy transfer and no edges should be fuzzy. And yet, they are. Blacks are nice, but shadow detail is only average. I found no damage to the print and no edge halos.

The Audio: How Does The Disc Sound?

The Dolby Digital 5.1 track is rather austere, much like the visual palette of the film. Surround usage is minimal, helping with general office noise, exterior ambiance, and multiple bleating animals. Dialogue is warm and understandable, even when characters are whispering conspiratorially. The dialogue is a smidge thin; there’s not much bass in the voices. The music has a nice tinkly quality, with piano and what sounds like xylophones. I like the detail in the track. The Regina King character wears multiple bracelets and when they slide around her arm, you can hear every one of them. There’s not much bass foundation. The whole of the mix is thin.

There’s also a Spanish language track in Dolby Digital 5.1 and English and Spanish subtitles.

Supplements: What Goodies Are There?

There are a whole mess of extras that basically constitute watchable filler. The first is the audio commentary by director Mike White and actress Molly Shannon. White is a hesitant speaker, but once he gets into it, he’s a pretty honest fellow. He talks about being “pretty overwhelmed” by his directing debut, but after four days, he realized how much fun he was having. He’s a huge fan of Laura Dern, so White wanted her days to go really well because he wanted her to think he’s a great director. They also talk about working with animals and that they used a second Pencil who did a better “dead dog” expression. Shannon, on the other hand, doesn’t contribute all that much. There’s a bit of silence during the commentary, more than necessary, but White is on his way to becoming a respected cult director, so his thoughts are valuable.

Next is the featurette A Special Breed of Comedy: The Making of Year of the Dog. We hear from Shannon, White, producers Dede Gardner and Ben Leclair, and actors Regina King, Peter Sarsgaard, John C. Reilly, and Laura Dern. Everyone talks about what they were trying to accomplish in their respective jobs and how Shannon and White trusted each other from day one and, as John C. Reilly says, Shannon is White’s doppelganger. There are some okay insights, but it’s not worth watching for 16 minutes.

Being Molly Shannon is a four-minute featurette about how Shannon is known mostly as a broad comedy presence, but White felt she could do the smaller stuff. Shannon is interviewed, as well as director Mike White. Shannon admits to being nervous about the role because it required real emotions including lots of crying. White, though, says Shannon can “cry on a dime.”

The Mike White Unleashed featurette starts with Molly Shannon saying “he’s such an amazing writer and performer,” so you know you’re in for 4 minutes of fluff. The piece features lots of on-set footage and interviews with the major actors. White talks about why he chose Year of the Dog to make his directing debut; it was small scale, which took some of the pressure off. For EPK fluff, White seems honest enough and has a couple of interesting things to say.

The four-minute featurette Special Animal Unit has Molly Shannon and others talking about working with all those adorable pooches. We see the dog trainers working with their charges. And we see how they get the dogs to run and jump on cue. “1, 2, 3…toys!” says one to get dogs to sprint. Head Animal Trainer Ursula Brauner talks about the “dead dog” posture that Pencil, who is an experienced movie dog, was able to execute to make the audience think she was dead. Basically, this supplement proves, without a shadow of a doubt, that dogs are cute.

There are seven deleted scenes that add up to about twelve minutes. Each is viewable with or without commentary by director Mike White. None of these warranted being in the film. Peggy and Lissie Commune with the Animals is preachy and Newt and Peggy Make Up is more of an argument about how dog owners must be careful when tending to hard- to-train dogs. Most of these scenes dramatize bits of plot and character that the audience didn’t need and were able to extrapolate for themselves. Most of the clips have time code at the bottom. Video quality is good. 

Insert Reel is a strange little extra. It’s a fast-cut montage of dozens of insert shots, including cubicle dressing, plates of food, post-its, photos, and computer screens. It’s essentially a montage of props and set dressing. I guess this pays homage to the unsung heroes who provide the production details that allow a movie to approximate life.

The gag reel is a standard 3-minute collection that includes uncooperative animals and flying insects that want to ruin Laura Dern’s close-up.

Next is Moviefone Unscripted with Molly Shannon and Mike White. This 7-minute featurette has Shannon sitting on a Moviefone set interviewing White and asking questions sent to them by fans. White tells the story of a cat that died in his hands and that’s why he decided to write the movie. That is particularly interesting because he is, as of this writing, being sued for stealing the idea for the movie from comic actress Laura Kightlinger.