While many dog owners are pretty much like cat owners in that they just want a companion they can love, there are those who use their pooches as status symbols. On one side are those who go the big and/or menacing route in a "my dog's bigger/meaner/nastier than yours" fashion in an attempt to boost their ego in some way. While German shepherds and Doberman pinchers were once the top choices, pit bulls and rottweilers have become the de facto standard for some such people.
On the other end of the spectrum are those who choose cute dogs in hopes of drawing a different sort of attention to themselves. Then there's a subset of those who go even further by picking mini pooches to be used as fashion accouterments, complete with designer doggie-ware and carrying bags so that they can transport them everywhere and show them off like their latest clothes, shoes, jewelry and such.
Of course, no one really knows whether these dogs enjoy such high fashion pampering, or whether they're embarrassed to be seen that way by others of their kind. In "Beverly Hills Chihuahua," the answer firmly falls into the former category. And how, you may ask, do we know that? Well, it's because the live-action, family-friendly comedy hasn't just gone to the dogs, but also features the kind that talk...in English...with moving lips and all.
While talking animals stories have long been a staple of children's entertainment, they're usually in literary or cartoon form. Those where real critters do the chatting are less common, but range from the extreme of silliness (TV's "Mr. Ed" and "Lancelot Link") to decent and even moving pics such as "Babe." Viewers usually fall into one extreme or another regarding such entertainment -- they think it's cute and funny, or stupid and annoying. If you're among the latter, I'm guessing you've already stopped reading by now, but if you belong to the former, read on.
Anyway, the film -- written by Analisa LaBianco and Jeff Bushell and directed by Raja Gosnell who's done plenty of past damage to the world of cinema in the form of the "Scooby Doo" movies as well as "Big Momma's House" and others -- focuses on one such dog (voiced by Drew Barrymore) living the lifestyle of the rich and famous who looks down on the stray (George Lopez having fun with the vocals) employed by the Hispanic landscaper. Her human counterpart, the owner's niece (Piper Perabo), similarly looks down on that hired hand (Manolo Cardona).
When the pampered pooch ends up dog-napped in Mexico by dogfighters while her human watcher is on an impromptu mini-vacation, the young woman and the landscaper, along with his dog, set off on a rescue mission, all while the fish out of water canine meets various other dogs and animals, some friendly and helpful, such as a German Shepherd with a troubled past (voice of Andy Garcia) others menacing or deceitful, such as a rat (voice of Cheech Marin) focused on Chloe's diamond necklace. Along the way, the titular Chihuahua and her owner's niece experience attitude readjustments and, not surprisingly, everything turns out just fine in the end.
While the pic briefly appears as if it's suddenly turned down the wrong road toward Michael Vick territory, what with the dogfighting angle, it's just a plot device to introduce the scary ringmaster (José María Yazpik) and his Doberman hench-dog (menacingly voiced by Edward James Olmos).
The filmmakers do little if anything new regarding all of the standard character types (human and animal) and employ already dated phrases ("Oh no she didn't") when not using or modifying famous classic lines from various Hollywood pics. As is to be expected, there are also plenty of songs that don't do much for the offering beyond presumably filling up the accompanying soundtrack. And then there's the odd mix of real critters whose mouths and lips have been digitally manipulated with those that have been completely digitally rendered. While the latter are decently done, for the most part, there's no difficulty in differentiating the two types and that ends up somewhat jarring from a visual standpoint.
Of course, most young viewers in the targeted demographic either won't care or notice, and there's plenty of action, comedy and some tense moments to keep most of them transfixed as the proceedings move along at a fairly brisk pace. For adults (most teens will likely avoid this like the plague or being seen in public with their parents), there's some limited entertainment appeal, but at least the vocal work is solid for what's asked of those performers.
Joining a long line of product from the Disney studios featuring dogs, "Beverly Hills Chihuahua" falls somewhere in the middle of the bunch, certainly not a fiasco, but clearly not a classic of the talking animal sub-genre either. It rates as a 4 out of 10.