The Art of Racing in the Rain, review: Kevin Costner voices a golden retriever in boilerplate family drama

Dir: Simon Curtis. Starring: Milo Ventimiglia, Amanda Seyfried, Kevin Costner (voice), Gary Cole, and Kathy Baker. PG cert, 109 mins

Hollywood has found its latest cash cow: dogs narrating their own lives. The appeal is simple: every dog owner has, at some point, looked into their furry friend’s eyes and wondered just what was going on in that little mind of theirs. Pixar’s Up likely offered the most accurate answer when Dug, via a translation collar, declared: “I have just met you, and I love you!” And yet, The Art of Racing in the Rain is the third in a recent string of films (alongside A Dog’s Purpose, its sequel A Dog’s Journey, and the unrelated A Dog’s Way Home) to grace the canine kind with a little more scholarly insight.

Adapted from Garth Stein’s 2008 novel of the same name, the film is narrated by golden retriever Enzo (voiced by Kevin Costner), whose race car driver owner Denny (Milo Ventimiglia) named him after the legendary founder of Ferrari. Although Denny has his heart set on driving Formula 1 in Europe, he’s yet to catch his big break, despite having a particular talent for navigating tight turns in rainy conditions (hence the title, since it’s all a metaphor for the unpredictability of life). Enzo has no problem with his owner’s erratic lifestyle. In fact, he loves it. Yet that all changes when Denny falls for school teacher Eve (Amanda Seyfried), who Enzo is horrified to discover isn’t much of a dog person and knows almost nothing about racing (why the dog then has to point out that she has “plump buttocks” is beyond comprehension).

The Art of Racing in the Rain’s story is arguably just a feature-length interpretation of the joke everyone says when a dog jumps up onto a couch: “Aw, look, he thinks he’s people!” Although Enzo has enough intellect to know that he’s not people, his only ambition in life is to become people. Not only is he obsessed with his owner’s career, but he dreams of one day sitting behind the wheel himself. He once saw a documentary on TV about Mongolia that described how its culture believes that dogs who have fulfilled their purpose are reincarnated as humans. So it’s possible, this film insists.

In fact, this film demands we accept several unusual assertions: that dogs can perfectly understand human languages and watch documentaries about Mongolia on TV, that dogs will purposefully give themselves diarrhoea to enact revenge on their enemies, and that dogs are god-fearing creatures who have vowed to defend their owners from demonic forces. The last of these is revealed as part of a growing rivalry between Enzo and a stuffed zebra, whose “mute stare” leads him to the obvious conclusion that he is an agent of Satan sent to destroy his master’s life. Considering all the film needed to do was provide a steady stream of “aww”-inducing dog close-ups, it’s actually to the film’s credit that it takes this kind of out-there risk, even if it feels more unintentionally funny than intentionally so.

Ventimiglia and Seyfried commit to the material as best as they can, while there’s something to be said about the instant gravitas Costner’s voice adds. It’s exactly how a sentient glass of barrel-aged whisky would sound. Screenwriter Mark Bomback gives Enzo an odd, erudite way of speaking, presumably to underline his canine philosopher credentials. We’re meant to walk away feeling like we’ve learned some valuable life lessons from the creature whose main hobby is hoovering up any Cheerios that might have fallen on the floor. At one point, he describes his tongue as an “ineffective tool for making complicated polysyllabic sounds”.

Yet, there’s a limit as to how much wisdom Enzo can actually impart when all he’s witnessing is another boilerplate family drama. Terminal illness, a lawsuit, a car accident – the entire rainbow of family tragedies is here. Director Simon Curtis approaches each with due care, but it all quickly starts to feel like a conveyor belt of emotional manipulations. Cinematographer Ross Emery captures these events with the golden glow of a life insurance commercial, throwing in a few shots from Enzo’s POV for good measure, but even the racing scenes lack any sense of thrill or adrenaline. Instead, The Art of Racing in the Rain ambles towards its destination, like an old dog settling down in its bed.

The Art of Racing in the Rain is released in UK cinemas on 9 August