Does "Dolittle" signal the end of tentpole movies--again?

Surprise—Robert Downey, Jr.’s mega-fantasy Dolittle is actually pretty good. It’s available for streaming now, (with the DVD and Blu-ray version available April 7). There’s a good chances that young and old kids will get a kick out of seeing something entertaining that is not yet another retread, sequel or message laden element of an excel spreadsheet.

So why did most critics blast it? Why did it so glaringly “underperform?” Well, it’s far from a perfect film. Downey does a valiant job trying to create an original character (inspired by a real-life eccentric, much the way Johnny Depp benchmarked Jack Sparrow from Keith Richards). Downey’s dialect isn’t so much unfathomable as inaudible, but there is a handy subtitle setting for that on home systems.

However. Dolittle works better on the smaller scale of a home system. Perhaps the reason critics raved in disdain and audiences stayed away had less to do with the film—which also did not benefit by trading on familiar characters or franchise status—than something that might be better expressed by what Miss Piggy. once told People magazine: “My beauty is my curse.”

Every recent tentpole looks undeniably impressive. Elaborate action set-pieces occurred at specific intervals, increasing incrementally in size. Trouble is, audiences got to know all those intervals all too well. But it was becoming much ado about not very much. They would leave a theater and say, “Okay, now where did we park the car?”

When a film so bloated gets into the more intimate setting of a home, the trappings fall away and one is left with the performances and the story. In the case of Dolittle, Downey’s earnest appeal, the fine supporting players and the doctor’s task at hand (seeking an antidote for a poisoned young Queen Victoria) are made more direct and intimate. What is supposed to be epic still appears to be, but the unnecessary gingerbread is relegated to the limits of screen size and household distractions.

You just don’t need to throw that much money at the screen—or behind the camera—all the time. A solid TV movie on a modest budget or a classic film continues to prove just as powerful an enticement through streaming services as a glut of multi-million-dollar extravaganzas that pack on special effects, star power and gloss. The top-heavy budgets result in top-heavy attention to the high stakes—involving attentive, high-echelon examination, overthinking, overtesting, overshooting, etc. Conflicting schedules of big-name talent (presumed vital for marketing as well as box office) have sometimes affected story coherence when written around a star’s availability (Emma Thompson reportedly announced she will no longer appear in a tentpole film without a finished script). Special effects are added to help save films, or even have to be added later to make premiere dates.

None of this is news. It’s history. After the mammoth success of Mary Poppins, The Sound of Music and My Fair Lady, Hollywood was in a frenzied race to make expensive, lengthy musicals (not realizing that Poppins was not even as high budget as the other two). A select few of the lavish ones hit pay dirt—Oliver! won the Best Picture in 1968 and Funny Girl won Barbra Streisand the Best Actress Oscar the same year. Both films played for months in theaters after long, successful roadshow runs. Most of them went from reserved-seat engagements to bargain matinees. (There is a fine book called Road Show that documents the phenomenon).

Two of the biggest financial disasters in 1967-68 nearly broke 20th Century-Fox. One also starred Streisand. Hello, Dolly! was very expensive, very lengthy and by the Summer of Love, when The Beatles and the counterculture were taking hold, suddenly out of touch.

1967’s Doctor Dolittle—the original musical version starring Rex Harrison—was the other disappointment. The industry thought it could not miss because it had the star of My Fair Lady, was based on a famous children’s story and boasted an appealing score that was already getting noticed by entertainers like Sammy Davis, Jr.

According to the autobiography of songwriter/screenwriter Leslie Bricusse, Davis was offereded the option of singing one or two songs and decided to record them all, turning the session into a two-night event with family and friends. The album is still available. The score was performed by dozens of artists, but the soundtrack, which was shipped in anticipation of success and went gold just by virtue of advance sales, went into the bargain bins.

Doctor Dolittle won two Oscars, for the song “Talk to the Animals” and for special effects. The song enjoyed lots of airplay and merited several cover versions. The effects were on a grand scale. But 1967 simmered with pop culture clashes. There were those that felt that the song and score were old-school for the rock era and some effects were cheesy. (Critics were less than kind about the CG in 2020’a Dolittle as well.)

What is not widely known about 1967’s Doctor Dolittle is that it led to Star Wars becoming the pop culture institution that it is today. Fox invested so much in the merchandise, even to getting Harrison’s personal approval for the Dolittle doll, that they lost a fortune in “misfit toys” lying unwanted in warehouses. When George Lucas asked for Star Wars merchandising rights, they signed all of them over to the young director thinking they were of little value. Without this merchandise, Star Wars may not have become the “empire” that it is. Coincidentally, the company that now owns those merchandising rights also now owns the 1967 Doctor Dolittle film. It is not being streamed on its Disney+ service but it is streaming on amazon Prime.

For fans of musicals and Disney-style family entertainment of the mid-20th century, there is a lot to like in Doctor Dolittle. It inspired a musical on London’s West End and the classic Hollywood-style songs have taken on a life of their own. Just like the Downey version, it is far from the best of its genre, but it plays well on the small screen and you can always pause it and return later if you want to watch it in parts.

The theory with both is the same. A few years ago, it was proclaimed that there would be nothing but tentpole movies. Everything got bigger, even horror and comedy. Low-budget independent films were in short supply and became harder to find. The mid-range movie moved to television, mostly on streaming services—where some started winning major awards perhaps because they did not have to carry the same baggage as the tentpoles. You can forgive a film you watch on TV for being just “okay” and you can be thrilled if it is “very good.” But “very good” is no longer cutting it with splashy, techie, starry-eyed extravaganzas steeped in hype that stretch anticipation beyond reality.

There was another “Dolittle” between the 1967 and 2020 spectaculars. In 1998, a much less ambitious contemporary comedy starred Eddie Murphy, resulting in a box office hit and a sequel plus three non-Murphy direct-to-video films. The catch was that all of these films largely disposed of the original Hugh Lofting books and simply used the premise of talking to animals. This version is being streamed on Disney+. (There was also a 2019 children’s film, also with a contemporary setting, called Little Miss Dolittle, streaming on amazon Prime.)

Harrison’s Dolittle came along when the entertainment world was changing in 1967. There’s no denying that the business model is about to change again permanently in the coming months. As all three versions are available to see on various platforms, it’s kind of fun to share comparisons and conjectures. It’s ultimately up to you whether critics pilloried the newest Dolittle based on how it was, or because of what it was.