Since at least 1953, this 3D gimmick has been hailed as the future of cinema. At the time, one-eyed veteran Andre DeTot brought us The Wax House, a novel picture with special effects that wowed the audience like a ball bouncing off a movie screen. Since then, the technology has become more and more sophisticated, but that doesn't necessarily mean it's put to better use.
Supposedly, 3D movies are still the trend of the future, but 3D effects should add value to a work, not just distract us from its problems. In the case of Disney's movie Lightning Dog, 3D technology didn't bring enough extra effects to even distract viewers. It's a very clever little story about a very cute white shepherd and his human Penny living a full, event-filled dog life.
However, this is no ordinary dog life: Bolt is an actor and dog, and in a hit TV series, he is a super dog with superpowers, who is repeatedly summoned to save Penny and let her escape from the clutches of an evil mastermind and cat lover, Dr. Cali. Super dogs can't be hit by cars; He could stop them with his strong body and knead them into a ball. His patented "Super Bark" is strong enough to turn the highway into a pile of crushed concrete.
But Bolt couldn't really do that, he just believed he could do it, thanks to the behind-the-scenes planning of the show's cast and crew, as well as the director. That's because in order to perform, Bolt needs to believe that he's really saving Penny.
He didn't know, but as an actor, he was abused, if not as a dog. Bolt's director is using intimidation tactics to make his performance come out of the blue, turning his purest dog-like qualities — loyalty — into a degenerate version of acting. But for Bolt, saving a dime is not acting; It lives.
When Bolt escapes the set, he finds himself in the real world, a world where he doesn't have superpowers — he just doesn't know it yet. That's when "Bolt" lost me. I know: It's essentially a harmless, uplifting little story, a behemoth that will never do anything to capture the worst fears of children.
Of course, we all know that everything in Bolt is ultimately an illusion: hamsters can't talk, and dogs can't destroy roads with "superbark." But like Bolt, we want to believe in fantasy, and believing in it requires more muscle, not rolling our eyes. The countless winks and nudges in Bolt remind us of how comfortable we are to the hypocrisy of pop culture, which is not the same thing as connecting us to the truth about pop culture.