2 of 3

Samantha Morton and John Lynch as Joe's parents

Colorful supporting characters give the film depth and humor. The radiant Kelly Macdonald (The Girl in the Café, Gosford Park) makes a brief appearance as the romantic and big-hearted Jeannie. And I'd like to see a whole movie about Rowlie, the itinerant puppeteer played by Peter Dinklage (The Station Agent), who recognizes Lassie's potential while she staggers, weathered and weary, down the long road home.

Howard Atherton's lush, extravagant cinematography celebrates Scotland, Ireland, and the Isle of Man, soaring over the green swaths, rocky ridges, and foggy woods—and over a certain legendary loch—much as Peter Jackson's adaptations carried us through the riches of New Zealand.

Even as it scores with technical excellence, Lassie skillfully dodges many of pitfalls common to movies about animals. Sturridge knows better than to give Lassie a celebrity voice, thank goodness. Lassie's strength is in her silent faithfulness and determination. She remains, in fact, a dog—not a cartoonish creature with a human personality.

And even better—she's not animated. She's real. The Lassie movies have always used dogs directly descended from the original Lassie, who starred in the original film back in 1943. And they're beautiful dogs. No matter how impressive CGI becomes, there is a particular awe that viewers feel when they're looking at a living, breathing animal, and the bundle of collies who take turns playing Joe's best friend earn our affection without any animated advantage.

Peter O'Toole as the Duke of Rudling

Lassie is also enhanced by Adrian Johnston's delicate soundtrack, which lets important scenes play out quietly. This lets us respond with our own personal and spontaneous emotions; we're not reacting to belligerent musical cues.

Further, Lassie succeeds because the filmmakers don't sugar-coat their characters' lives. Bad things happen, and death is a real possibility. More than one animal is beaten. Lassie's ordeal is long and painful. The filmmakers developed her character with such care that I found her "passion" more convincing and moving than that of the animated Aslan in Andrew Adamson's Narnia movie (which abbreviated character development to make extra time for bloated battle scenes).

Finally—and perhaps most importantly—this film refuses to insult the intelligence of its young viewers. It flatters them with honest depictions of mature grownups, intelligent children, and real hardships.

And the story is strong enough to keep the grownups engaged too; it doesn't try to buy their attention with innuendoes and pop-culture references (as if that's what adults really want). While it does have scenes of outrageous whimsy—Lassie's adventure in a courtroom, her spectacular escape from the pound—it remains grounded in a specific time and place, giving us some sense of life in Scotland during the build-up to World War II.

In fact, the film's only dissonant element is its one-note bad guy, who seems drawn from the box of stock Disney villains, right down to the trousers that fall down around his ankles.

All in all, Lassie is a small wonder, providing a classy conclusion to a relatively disappointing summer movie season. It might just inspire some of us to become as respectful as our dogs think we are—and it might even challenge us to prove that dogs aren't the only creatures God made capable of steadfast, longsuffering, and unconditional love.

1. Like all of God's creation, the animals he made exhibit aspects of his glory. What virtues can we see evident in dogs? Discuss other animals and the impressive qualities they demonstrate.
2. What are the differences between the Carraclough family and the Duke's family? Who has learned a lesson by the end of this story, and what is that lesson
3. We can learn a lot about people by the way they treat animals. Discuss what the different characters—Joe, Cilla, the Duke, Hynes, Jeanie—reveal about themselves in their treatment of Lassie.

next page... |  2 of 3