Peter Bart: America’s Pet Obsession Is Turning Movies, TV & Even Photo Shoots Into Real Dog-And-Pony Shows

Not long ago I vowed never to write about dogs or cats. It seems everyone feels compelled to talk about their pets or show us photos. Even movies.

It’s on overload: a cat named Frodo is a scene-stealer in A Quiet Place: Day One. She faithfully observes the post-dystopian rules of silence, even sensing intricate escape routes through the apocalyptic landscape. A mysterious black cat appears inconveniently in Fly Me to the Moon to upset Scarlet Johansson’s complex plan for the lunar landing.

Thus the tyranny of petdom assaults us from every direction. Few celebrities will agree to be photographed unless there’s also a camera-ready pet to hug (usually not their’s). Politicians have become the exceptions: President Biden’s dog is a serial biter and Trump’s belongs to Nathan’s Famous.

The New York Times last week ran an entire special section about pets, and a Wall Street Journal editor needed almost a page in his paper to unload about his deceased dog.

The pet blitz is in evidence in magazines profiles, witness Jon Hamm’s full-page cuddles with dogs and horses — none his.

Explains one top photographer, “When you accept a celebrity gig you immediately start auditioning pets for the snuggle.” Director Niclas Larsson (Mother Couch) favors publicity shots side by side with his blond Lurcher because “we look like each other.”

But not everyone approves of this. “Projecting our ideas of selfhood onto our pets is a distortion,” argues Alexandra Horowitz in the New Yorker. “It is leading to the ultimate expression of genetic determinism –cloning.” The attempt to replicate your critter is “bizarre and unnatural — and usually disappointing,” she asserts.

Americans presently spend $140 billion a year on their pets. Veterinary prices alone soared by 60% over 10 years. The corporate reinvention of pet products is “increasingly unsustainable,” argues Katie Thomas in the New York Times. “Besides, treating animals like humans may not be good for them.”

It may be good for filmmakers, however. Going back to Rin Tin Tin, critters like Bailey (A Dog’s Purpose), Enzo (Running in the Rain) and Marley (Marley and Me) have contributed their share of financial oxytocin at the box office.

Michael Sarnoski, director of the Quiet Place prequel, reports that he and Frodo (real name Schnitzel) have survived some serious Hollywood trauma.

John Krasinski directed the original Quiet Place in 2020 as well as the 2022 sequel, but scheduling delays resulted in Sarnoski and his feline Inheriting the gig.

In the prequel Lupita Nyong’o plays a hospice patient who escapes invading “death angels” with the help of a law student (Joseph Quinn). Their budget provided for a computer-generated cat, but Sarnoski felt that Schnitzel with her Steadicam could endure the explosions, floods and invading aliens. And also remain steadfastly quiet.

She and her companions not only prevail but even find their way to a pizza joint along the way. They chomp and share – very quietly.

I have also discovered sharing traits in my own dog, a Cavalier. Typical for her breed, however, she has protocols for shoots. Hair and makeup approval must be passed through CAA.