Arthur the King

Unexpected recurring joke I did not expect: meatballs.

Arthur the King

When the distributor showed up on screen, Lionsgate, the audience at my Monday Mystery Movie screening began murmuring, discussing which movie we were about to see.

When Mark Wahlberg’s face appeared after an establishing shot of some runners, about five seconds into the film, an audible mix of groans and chuckles rippled throughout the crowd. As if to put a fine point on it, about ten minutes into the movie, a couple sitting nearby left and never returned.

It’s been ages since I’ve walked out of a film, or shut off the TV before completion. Part of that is conviction that any movie can turn around (I point to last year’s Citizen Sleuth, for neither the first nor last time). The other part ensuring I bring you an accurate representation of the film. How can I do that if I don’t watch the whole thing? So I resolved to push through, despite my lack of excitement for…well, everything about it. And while I won’t say it truly turned around, it is not completely without merit or talent behind it.

Precious little is present in the storytelling, though, which is about as cookie cutter as they come. Adventure racer Michael Light (Mark Wahlberg) consistently impressed but never won. Three years after a particularly embarrassing loss, he returns to compete one last time, determined to finally take home first place. So he gathers a team consisting of a world class climber Olivia (Nathalie Emmanuel), a former opponent dropped by his team named Chik (Ali Suliman), and a former teammate turned influencer who Michael last spoke to three years ago (Simu Liu as Leo). They head to the Dominican Republic for a grueling five day, 435 mile race around the island. Some spare meatballs lead to them acquiring a fifth member halfway through the race, a stray dog whom they name Arthur (played by Ukai, a California rescue in his first film role).

If that description sounds vaguely familiar but a little off, that’s because it’s based very loosely on a true story. Very loosely. As in, the only truth is that an adventure racing team in the mid-2010s picked up a furry fifth member along the way, whom they named Arthur. The team was Swedish, the leader was Mikael Lindnord, his wife was a teammate, none of the others were, it wasn’t his last race, he’d won a few years prior, the race took place in Ecuador, and on and on. I can imagine why the location was changed: presumably filming costs and permits. And the Americanization of an otherwise true story is an unfortunate but common practice. But so many of the other elements are either irrelevant, so their changing was unnecessary, or else they were used in incredibly eye rolling, predictable, and thus boring ways.

You already know many of the upcoming dramatic beats from the early moments of the film, and from having seen movies like this before. Returning to racing strains Michael’s marriage. Chik’s bum knee becomes a problem, but not too much of a problem. In a reverse-and-grow from their previous race, Leo needs to trust Michael’s leadership and Michael has to think more about his team’s well-being than winning. Olivia’s father, himself a famous climber, is dying of cancer. The dog serves as more than just a companion: he becomes a true member of the team. The favorite is of course the obnoxious team of Australians headed by Michael’s rival, Decker (Rob Collins). Arthur’s journey parallel’s Michael’s. And so on. All of it is boring, and well-trodden, and dense with tropes that aren’t used to bring anything new to the table.

Not only that, the movie doesn’t really know what it wants you to focus on. Despite the competition being Michael’s focus, it’s never the movie’s, despite being what drives everything forwards. There’s no real tension built around them overtaking other teams, nor do we ever get a sense why they start so far back. The human drama is quite light and trite: not only does it consist completely of lazy tropes, so little time is spent on getting to know anyone except Michael that none of it can land. They’re all archetypes, so you have some sense of what they’re going for, but each is such a shallow implementation that you don’t feel any of it. It doesn’t help that many of these beats are hit just once before director Simon Cellan Jones seemingly forgets about them: Olivia’s father’s cancer never comes back up; the lack of training days has no apparent impact; Michael’s father’s disappointment is foreseeable and impactless. It would have been nice if they picked a few themes and stuck with them, or even just made their rivals more of a problem. Instead, they throw everything at the wall to see what sticks, and the answer is nothing.

Even the core relationship between Michael and the dog is more shouted at us than sold. We’re about halfway in before Arthur joins the team, and much of what we see of him before than is incredibly unnecessary. You could argue it answers “Why and how would a dog trek 186 miles to find someone who gave them two meatballs?”, but I would counter that “No it doesn’t.” Even once they’re together, though, it feels like Michael immediately takes to him so the filmmakers don’t have to build their bond. They do even less work for the rest of the team warming to Arthur. It all just sort of happens.

Maybe it would have worked if the acting was any better, but it’s not. Not bad, mind you, just…fine. Although I’m pretty sure half of Suliman’s lines were ADR? Better done ADR than Madame Web, to be fair: the lip movements perfectly match his words. But something about his voice sounds wrong. Outside of that, Wahlberg doesn’t really seem to want to be there, although he’s not too bad. Emmanuel is so bored she melts into the background completely. Liu is the only one having any fun, using his role as a social media influencer pretty well, but he’s not lighting up the screen by any means. Maybe the only truly good performance in the movie is Ukai. I’m not kidding: they ask this dog to do a lot throughout the film, and his training shines through impeccably. They only fully CGI him in one scene (that I could tell), which is perfectly defensible to keep Ukai safe, and even that looks pretty good: it’s only noticeable compared to the real dog they use in the previous shot.

So what’s the worthwhile element(s) I mentioned earlier? One particular harrowing set piece, as well as the action cinematography overall.

The camera is so kinetic and gorgeous and controlled, emphasizing the sense of scale at the right moments to give a sense of danger, and making ample use of some wonderful drone shots. Most of it isn’t anything new, per se, but it’s effective. I think of the feeling of great speed with which they bike down hill, and of the intentionally disorienting upside-down sweep into our introduction to Olivia top roping a cliff face. And of course, of the killer set piece that forms their first real obstacle, whose details I’ll leave for you to discover. Suffice it to say it moves from Leo getting to have a blast with a selfie stick and some remarkable shots to a harrowing moment of danger emphasized by the scale to a static wide shot of one of the more unique stunts I’ve seen in a bit.

I’m not one for schmaltzy stories, as has probably become clear by this point. I want human drama, I want fresh takes and fresh stories and interesting approaches to old tales, I want compelling and nuanced and messy characters. So when confronted with a feel-good tale, I’m far more likely to roll my eyes. That’s not to say it won’t effect me at all: see my reaction to The Boys in the Boat. Similarly here, I’d be lying if I said the ending didn’t get me to shed some tears. I have a heart, after all. But it is to say the movie didn’t do much to earn it, to build to it, choosing instead to rehash old stories to tap into how those made you feel. In that way, it was successful, but it failed to stand on its own, to really justify its existence. If I want to know more about this story, I’d rather watch one of the two documentaries on the subject, or just read Mikael’s book. Because this isn’t bringing anything to the table.

Although it must be said: Arthur is a very good boy.