To sum up artist Laurie Anderson would be a task onto itself; having been a pioneer in electronic music, a film-maker, an inventor, an avant-garde multi-media artist, pop star of sorts, but perhaps what she also wants to be known as well is a dog lover.
To sum up artist Laurie Anderson would be a task onto itself; having been a pioneer in electronic music, a film-maker, an inventor, an avant-garde multi-media artist, pop star of sorts, but perhaps what she also wants to be known as well is a dog lover.
Dedicated to her late husband, Lou Reed (how has a great cameo), Heart of a Dog combines Anderson’s own artwork, narration, surveillance footage, and her own 8mm home movies to create an wholly original medley of multi-media art, which is incredibly impressive coming from a singular artist. We start with an animated sequence of Anderson totaling up a dream where she gives birth to her rat-terrier Lolabelle, who has been sown into her to give the illusion of a natural birth.
While this is a promising start, and also quite funny and artistically pleasing, it steadily jumps to another topic, to another art form, to another. Soon enough we get a take from Anderson and her aversions to how the world had changed since 9-11 terrorists attacks and how that well, relates to her dog and our collective conscious in the tangible world perhaps. If you can imagine this being somewhat insipid, well it is. Some of Heart of a Dog works in that way, arranging the claustrophobic, tech-ridden, modern world and relating it to her small dog and the human condition is the heart of Anderson’s monologue. What invariably makes this trip worthwhile are Anderson’s visuals, her use of music and noise, and the visual art. Beyond her art-teacher meet philosophical guru points, Anderson is a very talented artist and can at least present a pleasing narrative for something so all over the place despite its navel-gazing. Anderson’s voice is cool, calm, and striking. It’s her secret weapon and commanders our empathy. A lot of Anderson’s wording is plain, but on point. It’s a performance that creates a soothing aura that reminds one of the best story-time readings they got in grade-school.
Heart of a Dog is emotionally fragment, and a bit all over the place. In large, it’s a creative meditation about grief, processing death, unconditional love, a women’s dog, new-age paranoia, enlightenment, and why a bond between an animal can be stronger than that of one’s own. Instead of following a straight narrative or a video essay format, Dog attempts to be an artistic portrait/tribute to let one be fully immersed in Anderson’s world, conscious, and disposition of feelings. Once you go back and examine Anderson’s opening dream of giving birth to her own dog was psychologically provoked by her own mother’s apathetic disposition to her, the obvious dawns.
These well-made intimate snippets of Anderson’s memory and world are wonderfully made, provocative, and revealing, if not somewhat eye-roll inducing at times. The vague social-political parts meeting with Buddhist enlightenment are especially pretentious and ponderous, but serve a good insight into Anderson as an artist. I certainly don’t love her dog like she loves her dog, but I get it, and it’s thoughtful enough to be worthwhile. When the focus is on her life and her story, it’s a sweet spot to uncovering Anderson’s own foibles countering her artistic presentation. Heart of a Dog is hard to recommend or consent others to, as good art typically generates a personal reaction and that can inferably vary from person to person. However one can concede that this is well made and evocative of the artist and a personal journey worth trying out.
Heart of a Dog comes to the Criterion Collection with a high-definition digital master with 5.1 surround DTS-HD Master Audio soundtrack for the Blu-ray, and sounds marvelous. The disc features a no-music soundtrack variation in case you wanted to strip that away. The release features a new conversation between director Laurie Anderson and her co-producer Jake Perlin, along with footage of Anderson’s 2016 Concert for Dogs.
Also included are deleted scenes, a trailer, and Lolabelle’s video Christmas card, which is a just in time for the holidays. Laurie’s own art is included with an essay by film critic Glenn Kenny. All in all, this is a pretty robust release for such a new film. For an artist like Anderson, who is rather cohesive in melding music, visuals, and narratives together, it certainly can give you a deeper appreciation of her work and effort.
Heart of a Dog
United States (2015)
Laurie Anderson
Spine# 846
Available on DVD, Blu-Ray, and Filmstruck
