Produced by master of horror Wes Craven and directed by frequent collaborator Nicholas Mastandrea, 2006’s genetically-modified killer dog movie, The Breed, was way more fun than it had any right to be. Coming at a time when 90s and 2000s genre flicks with even the most preposterous premises were still glossy and effective, there was plenty to love. Between ridiculous one-liners and a vicious strand of rabies, The Breed still very much understood the assignment. Nearly twenty years later, A Breed Apart comes out of nowhere to revitalize a long-dormant brand. For either the entirely uninitiated or those hoping for at least a campy return to form, prepare to be disappointed. Straight-up bonkers, the tone veers between wannabe satire and unintentional comedy. Accompanied by atrocious effects, a nonsensical plot, and a poorly written script that takes aim at influencer culture, A Breed Apart has to be one of the worst attempts at a cinematic reboot ever put to film.
Simply “inspired by” 2006’s The Breed without actually being connected, this belated follow-up lifts part of the premise only to tweak its worst elements. Thirteen years ago, a movie filming on an island was shut down when the dog trainers all “disappeared.” Now, wealthy self-proclaimed hot Willy Wonka stand-in Vince (Joey Bragg) has cracked open the doors to his Vincetopia. That very same island that once doubled as an on-location film set now houses innumerable Hollywood dogs gone wild. Vince proposes a contest wherein five influencers will be tasked with catching the most canines to help give them new homes. These include obvious stereotypes that contribute nothing to the overall experience. Only Talia (Virginia Gardener), a pilot for some reason, has a modicum of personality that does not feel manufactured. The winner gets bragging rights, plus the actual deed to the island. There’s an immediate problem here in that A Breed Apart opts to show us in a lengthy sequence exactly what happened to those aforementioned dog trainers—there would be no possible way to cover up or explain away the damage done or the gory mess left behind. Very quickly, it becomes obvious that neither scripting duties nor directing duties are of a high priority to brotherly duo Griff and Nathan Furst.
What is important, then? Simply observing the cast having fun, cracking poorly-conceived jokes, and so many outrageous doggie murders that keeping track of them all is not humanly possible. The gore all looks computer-generated, and the actual animals have a Playstation 2-era quality to them in any shot where they are not simply standing around. In the first Breed, these deaths had heft to them—after all, killing an innocent domesticated creature is a horrible idea to contemplate, made only palatable by defensive necessity. In A Breed Apart, not a single iota of the concept plays seriously. Tongue remains firmly in cheek through every single moment, and it only expounds with the addition of each preposterous scenario. Each character is a paper-thin archetype, revealed to us through their own unique brand of influencer mumbo-jumbo that looks incredibly dated by today’s standards.
From the start, these dogs are very clearly not normal. Even attempting to pet one of them nicely does not go over well. The first mauling occurs ironically when trying to prove that the animals should not be feared. What follows is riddled with eye-rolling imagery such as fake-looking forests, barking soundboards, and CGI dog hordes that are more funny than frightening. The spiral into absurdity only continues as dogs get smacked with ladders, broken bottles are fuzed into their muzzle, and they get violently electrocuted with live wires. Puppies attack, only to get punted and tossed across insurmountable distances. Can flares cause gigantic explosions? Can dogs scale cell towers almost entirely without moving their legs? Can a tossed chew toy cause a choking hazard? Do not attempt to spend more than five minutes wondering how rabies will play into the plot, since the creatives did not care either.
The whole dreadful affair culminates in a completely unhinged final act: in a meta burst of casting, Hayden Panettiere’s badass action actress Hayden Hurst helicopters in for a rescue mission to self-actualize into an actual action star. Seconds into her appearance, dogs are punched, electrocuted, drop-kicked, and in one amazing moment, fed to a shark. Being a massive fan of Panettiere, it was a shame to see her relegated to more of a cameo—she is far and away the best aspect. Everything about this looks like a cheap direct-to-video reject from the 2000s, infused with Sharknado stupidity. Not a single element goes together, from the attempted influencer satire, Jurassic Park creature feature wannabe energy, or its half-baked reality show setup. Why are the end credits and gag reel more entertaining than the movie at large? So little care has been put into cobbling it together that A Breed Apart reads more D-list kibble than premium. Woof, indeed.
Run fast from A Breed Apart before a rabid dog snaps its CGI jaws in your general direction—available in theaters, On Demand, and Digital on Friday, May 16th.
