This alleged 'documentary' is not a documentary at all, but a 33-minute exercise in self-adulation by one stone-cold clueless filmmaker. It's so awful that I thought it was a satire or a running joke. I kept waiting for a punch line, but, alas, it plays it straight from beginning to end.
The filmmaker behind A Dog's Life, etc., is a strange and, in my eyes, hopelessly self-absorbed New Yorker named Gayle Kirschenbaum, who shows discerning viewers how an adult human being, using her own camera, can make an absolute idiot out of herself and be totally oblivious to it.
The titular dog of the flick is called Chelsea, and he's much more than a pet. He's a lover and an obsession for Kirschenbaum. She also sees herself as a 'single mother' to this cute little mutt. She dresses him in a variety of fashionable clothes, bathes and sleeps with him, kisses him (yes, tongues are involved), picks up his feces from the living room carpet, takes him to a spa, a day care, a 'personal physician' (a vet to the rest of us) and a pet 'psychiatrist' (!). She talks to other dog owners about arranged marriages and buying rhinestone bracelets. And still the punch line doesn't come.
In the aftermath of 11 September in New York, Kirshenbaum reveals her rank opportunism by showcasing her precious dog in a NYC hospital, ostensibly giving comfort to the afflicted.
I would like to believe that this woman was deeply concerned about the welfare of these hospital patients, but that takes a wild leap of faith -- her lens gives us ample evidence to the contrary. She appears to be far more interested in showing the infirm and their relatives what a magnificent creature Chelsea was/is/whatever.
In the hospital, the Dance of the Macabre begins. We see at least two comatose, skeletal and dying patients flanked by a beaming Kirshenbaum and her doggie. One elderly man is seen gasping for breath on his literal deathbed while Kirshenbaum records it, apparently with great satisfaction. She thought her adorable dog was giving comfort to these people, but instead they were, sad to say, too preoccupied with dying. It was ghoulish, a ghastly affront to human dignity, and yet this incredibly insensitive woman didn't seem to realize it.
What I also find remarkable is that apparently none of her many so-called 'friends' told Kirschenbaum what a spectacle she had made of herself. Even the noted doc-maker Albert Maysles (Grey Gardens, Gimme Shelter) praises her. In the cloistered intellectual gardens of Greenwich Village, 'friends' is a negotiable noun.
There's a little conceit in this flick about Kirshenbaum trying to get a husband for her and and a 'daddy' for Chelsea. I love the ending (unless it's a contrived set-up, which is entirely possible). The filmmaker stops a guy on the street and asks if he's married. He looks uncomfortable and wants to keep walking. You can read his face and it's saying: 'oh, oh, it's another one of those dog people'. But again, Kirshenbaum didn't seem to pick up on it. He might have been the only sensible person in this whole flick.
'A Dog's Life' is fascinating for all the wrong reasons. One wonders how Kirshenbaum manages to navigate through the portals of everyday reality.