The movies are going to the dogs

At the tender age of 10, I became a professional writer. I received a 50-cent check for a poem whose title I've since forgotten, but which, in its entirety, went, "I can't play the uke, but I'm a whiz on the juke."

Looking back, it seems astonishing that I was actually paid slightly more than four cents a word for that little ditty. It would be nine long years before I would next be paid for my work. At the age of 19, I became the movie critic for Los Angeles magazine. By that time, in spite of inflation, my price had fallen dramatically. The cheapskates were paying me a mere half-a-cent a word. I joked that somebody at the magazine was getting paid more to count my words than I was to write them.

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But I didn't care. After all, I was getting to see movies for free. After a while, as you can imagine, the pleasure began to pall. In the '60s, it sometimes seemed as if a third of the movies starred Jerry Lewis, a third starred Peter Sellers, and a third were shot from behind ferns, pillars and colored glass vases, by young hotshot directors far more interested in focusing attention on themselves than on their characters.

It is difficult to maintain a fondness for, let alone an interest in, movies when you have to sit through 150 to 200 of them a year. Especially when, at the end of the year, you can't in all good conscience compile a list of the 10 best.

For my part, I never did fully regain my former affection for the movies. There are, of course, the occasional delights, movies – such as "Midnight Run," "The Firm," "My Cousin Vinny," "The Untouchables," "Cinema Paradiso," "Remains of the Day," "Chicago," "Breaking Away," "Green Card," "The Tall Guy," "The Fugitive," "Die Hard" and "Groundhog Day" – that are as good as anything produced in the '30s and '40s. But, by and large, I have soured on the flicks.

My wife, however, remains one of the great movie fans of the world, and often goes to see new releases without me. One day, back in the '90s, Yvonne reported a trend to me. At first, I thought she was imagining things. But after a while, even as infrequently as I tagged along to the local Bijou, I noticed it, too. Nearly every movie had a scene in which two guys would carry on a conversation while in a bathroom, using the facilities.

Now I wouldn't want you to get the idea that I spend an inordinate amount of time gathering evidence in public restrooms, but, being 65, I have spent a fair amount of time in such places. And if there's one thing I've noticed, it's that very few words are ever exchanged at the urinal. Only in the movies!

In recent years, I have noticed a small, even more offensive, trend. It began, so far as I'm aware, with "A Fish Named Wanda." It continued with "As Good As It Gets" and "Something About Mary," and I came across it recently in "Meet the Fockers." It consists of killing or at least harming small dogs for comedic purposes.

In "Wanda," they knocked off three little dogs. True, they were killed accidentally, but still we were supposed to laugh all three times. And, as I recall, I did. But I wasn't proud of myself.

In the second instance, Jack Nicholson tossed his neighbor's little dog down a trash chute. In that case, they pretended that the fall didn't kill the animal. That was supposed to make it all right, I guess. I didn't buy it. It was a movie, after all, not a "Road Runner" cartoon. That little dog would have been a goner.

In "Something About Mary," the little mutt was not only set on fire, but then tossed out a window.

In "Meet the Fockers," the family pooch got flushed down the toilet. Again, death did not result. He was merely dyed blue.

Now if, seeing as few movies as I do, I saw six dogs killed or humiliated for laughs, heaven knows how many more the rest of you have seen. And I want to know what it means. At least with all those stupid bathroom scenes, I understand, being as I am a scriptwriter, that it's a way to get exposition into a movie without having the characters just sitting around a table drinking coffee.

But as a guy who likes dogs, and who happens to own a small one, I'd like to know how it is we went from lavishing movie dogs like Rin Tin Tin, Lassie and Benji with respect and affection, to treating canines as if they were no better than cats.

I want to know and so, I can assure you, does my pal, Duke!