Home / Film / Blu-ray Review: All Dogs Go to Heaven

Blu-ray Review: All Dogs Go to Heaven

Please Share...Print this pageTweet about this on TwitterShare on Facebook0Share on Google+0Pin on Pinterest0Share on Tumblr0Share on StumbleUpon0Share on Reddit0Email this to someone

The Film

When Don Bluth left Disney in the late 1970s, he set out to make a different kind of animated film, and his The Secret of NIMH, An American Tail and The Land Before Time certainly strike a different tone than their Disney contemporaries. Perhaps the gap is most apparent in 1989’s All Dogs Go to Heaven, an almost relentlessly dark film that’s tested the mettle of many a youngster. Death isn’t shied away from much here, with plenty of menacing imagery to back it up.

And yet, for all of its maverick qualities, the film tends to fail in many of the same areas that lackluster animated films almost always do — uninspired celebrity voice casting and lame songs to fill in the narrative dead spots being the chief offenders. Some of Bluth’s fantastical animation sequences still shine, but a strong nostalgia kick is probably necessary to make the film a worthwhile watch.

Burt Reynolds voices German Shepherd Charlie B. Barkin, a con artist who gets on the bad side of his former partner Carface (Vic Tayback). The cigar-chomping bulldog carries out a hit on Charlie, but after a brief trip to heaven — a destination where all dogs end up, he learns — he escapes the otherworldly clutches and returns to Earth, intent on avenging his own death.

He meets up with dachshund pal Itchy (Dom DeLusie), and together the two find a one-way street to riches in the form of Anne-Marie (Judith Barsi), an orphan girl whom Carface has kidnapped. The girl can talk to all animals, giving the dogs the inside track to know which horse (or frog or rat) is going to win the race, so they can place bets accordingly. (Apparently all racing animals fix each race before it takes place.) The scheme makes Charlie and Itchy rich, but Charlie has to decide what’s more important to him — money or the welfare of the adoring little girl.

Set in New Orleans, the film is at its best when Bluth’s more abstract tendencies take over and the film allows for brief flashes of purely cinematic animation. More often than not, the slightly muddled plot (10 different writers get a story credit — yikes!) is allowed precedence, which is in itself better than Charles Strouse and T.J. Kuenster’s abysmally corny songs.

Sometimes, the ragged charm of the whole thing works, but ultimately, this is not one of Bluth’s finer efforts.

The Blu-ray Disc

All Dogs Go to Heaven is presented in 1080p high definition with an aspect ratio of 1.85:1. Previous DVD incarnations presented the film in a full-frame 1.33:1 image, although it appears there is a lack of a consensus as to which is the original aspect ratio. The widescreen framing certainly looks correct to me though.

This is a pretty lackluster transfer, with a seeming layer of grime constantly covering the image. Flecks and scratches are common, and the whole thing just looks dingy. Colors do occasionally come across as high-def-level bold, and definition of objects’ outlines can be pretty sharp, but this is highly inconsistent. The image is occasionally very soft, to the point where certain shots look totally out of focus.

Audio is presented in a 2.0 DTS-HD Master Audio track that’s fairly clean, but not very dynamic. Effects and songs can sound a little hollow, although front channel dialogue is acceptably crisp.

Special Features

Only the original theatrical trailer is included. It must have been a weird world where prominently advertising the voice of Charles Nelson Reilly was a key inclusion for a kids’ movie. Frustratingly, the disc has no menu.

The Bottom Line

For fans of the film that want to see it in its widescreen aspect ratio, the disc is worth picking up on the cheap. Image quality ekes past DVD level slightly, but this isn’t a disc to be proud of.

Powered by

About Dusty Somers

Dusty Somers is a Seattle-based editor and writer. He is a member of the Online Film Critics Society and Seattle Theater Writers.