Directed by: Mike White

Starring: Molly Shannon, Peter Sarsgaard

Rated: PG-13 (adult language, mild adult situations)

Running time: 97 minutes

Best suited for: characterinperil melodrama lovers

Least suited for: those anticipating "Must Love Dogs II"

Acorn Rating Guide: For the PETA persona:

Animal lovers tend to love animal-friendly films. We love to watch other animal lovers onscreen. I'm reminded of a few fairly recent, fur-light efforts: "The Truth About Cats and Dogs" in '93, and the underrated "Must Love Dogs" in '05. And now, if we are to believe those cuddly trailers and cute marquee posters, comes along

"Year of the Dog."

Having a houseful of dogs and cats myself, and having seen the rather funny, dog-happy trailer a few times, I thought "Year of the Dog" might be a nice little diversion. I even took my mom, who enjoys such feather-light fare. But what I have to ask myself is this: If one removes all the funny parts from a comedy, is it still a comedy?

My biggest gripe is the film's marketing ploy. Nowhere in its cheerful scheme does anyone admit that "Year of the Dog" is essentially a new interpretation of "Woman Under the Influence." I consider myself thoroughly deceived by the trailer. One might think that if the people responsible for the film (Brad Pitt is listed among the producers), truly believed in their product, they would have the backbone to give us an honest glimpse of its contents.

Yet ever since Sofia Coppola made the stylistic, plot-lacking "Lost in Translation," Hollywood seems content to sell us a remarkable number of (usually independent) films posing as outright comedies. Many of these efforts are little more than a potpourri of frenetic e m o t i o n - a n g s t - c h o k e d "dramadies" that twist and turn between mirthful moments and pandemic grief. Yes, "Year of the Dog" contained some funny moments, but I could count these on one hand.

Between such pleasantly divergent oases, I found myself barraged with unhappy, damaged people and constantly reminded of the inhumane treatment of our fuzzy friends. In one sense, "Year of the Dog" is little more than a PETA recruitment effort, and should you not be convinced that animals are people too, the film occasionally slaps you across the face with the harsh reality that way too many creatures in this world are euthanized because of human laziness or neglect.

As a pet owner, I empathize. My dogs are neutered, my cats all pound critters living their own version of "Schindler's List." Yet when I view a film, it's with a certain anticipation of what I expect to see. I'm paying (in this case, $38.50) for a product that's touted as being that productForty bucks is the equivalent of two audio CDs touting, say, Sinatra. If I get home and suddenly hear Green Day, I do believe I have a problem. So should the film's producers.

Perhaps the MPAA needs a new variety of rating guide. For instance:

C = a full-blown comedy

CP = partly comedic

CX = a three-hanky comedy where folks with suicidal tendencies should not be permitted

The truth is, "Year of the Dog" is neither as great nor as dismal as my own rating might indicate. Peggy (Molly Shannon) is a lonely, disturbed woman who falls apart when her small dog, Pencil, is accidentally poisoned in a neighbor's yard. Peggy holds her encroaching insanity at bay by becoming a vegan and filling her house with the pitterpatter of dogpound survivors. A good many survivors.

For all you PETA/vegan troupers out there, don't expect Shannon to be an exemplary model for your recruitment efforts. The woman is only narrowly on this side of deranged, and she uses the love of dogs the way others use Valium. When she develops a crush on her dog trainer, Newt, she's eventually rebuffed. (Newt's neutered, get it?) Unable to cope, Peggy finally tips over the edge, and the rest of the film has the almost eerie edginess of a (bloodless) slasher flick.

The film does have a bright side for those not already repelled by the above sentiment. Molly Shannon plays Peggy quite well, and Peter Sarsgaard does well as the gentle yet deeply flawed Newt. John C. Reilly plays the nextdoor womanizer responsible for Pencil's quick exit. What "Year of the Dog" eventually becomes is a nicely rendered character sketch of people so incapable of living within society's crayon lines that they must draw their own unsteady path toward acceptance and survival. And trust me, these people scrawl a very wide arch outside the box.

I suspect that people who truly, deeply feel the indecent- okay, abominable- plight of discarded animals will take to heart "Year of the Dog." For those folks, this film is a keeper, scruffy tail and all.

But be warned, this film is rated CX.