Animals are people too

MARQUEE

, one of last week's new releases, about eight dogs surviving an Antarctic winter after being abandoned outside a research station, is that there is almost no anthropomorphising.

This is a film that stays with its canine protagonists for the most part (their travails are intercut with the rescue efforts of a couple of humans), yet the dogs are allowed to be dogs "" albeit very intelligent dogs.

There is no unnecessary imputing of human characteristics so that the audience (most of whom are presumably homo sapien) can easily identify with their thoughts and actions.

But then, as any genuine animal lover will know, it isn't necessary to make animals seem more human if you really want to appreciate them (in fact, it can be argued that that's even a bit of an insult).

Most species of creatures have their own distinct characteristics, which can be admired on their own terms regardless of whether or not they approximate human behaviour.

Take the penguins in the recent documentary March of the Penguins "" a film about the extraordinary cycle in which these creatures choose their mates and lay eggs, with the males then spending two months huddled together in the freezing cold incubating them while the females march back to the sea in search of food. Watch this film and make up your own minds about whether it could possibly have been improved by making the penguins "more human".

This is not to suggest that no good films have been made by taking the anthropomorphic shortcut. Most memorably, there's Babe and its sequel Babe: Pig in the City, about the misadventures of a talking pig "" a movie that, thanks to a witty and consistently engaging screenplay, makes a virtue out of the otherwise dubious computer-effected trick of making animals' mouths move in synch with the dialogue.

Only marginally less entertaining are the Stuart Little movies, where the title character "" a little mouse living with a human family "" is computer-generated but the other animals (most notably the conniving family cat) are not.

One such film I remain ambivalent about, and for wholly personal reasons, is the 2001 Cats and Dogs, the story of a group of cats led by the nefarious Mr Tinkles plotting to end dogdom by making humans allergic to anything canine.

Again, the animals have human conversations with each other and there are many inspired moments: such as a hilarious reinterpretation (by the dogs) of the hieroglyphics depicting cat-worship in ancient Egypt; a tough-as-nails cat spy that infiltrates a household in the guise of an adorable little kitty; and a look at how the criminal mastermind, being a pampered domestic cat himself, has to reluctantly lead a double life. ("Evil does not wear a bonnet!" he snarls, after being dressed up by an overzealous maid.)

My grouse? The filmmakers in this case are clearly dog-people "" they've fallen for the old cliche that cats are smarmy and selfish while dogs are affectionate and loyal. This is why felines and their defenders (yes, I'm one) get short shrift in the movies.

(jaiarjun@gmail.com)