Digital streaming debut for the pet-lovers' movie of the year: Cindy Meehl's THE DOG DOC

It took but ten minutes into the new opened-theatrically-but-then-the-theaters-all-closed-so-now-it's-streaming-digitally documentary, THE DOG DOC, before my tears began flowing. If you, too, are a sucker for needy animals and the people who help them, this is certainly the movie for you.

For many of us, that would be enough, but this particular film, produced and directed by Cindy Meehl (shown at right), offers a lot more, TrustMovies believes, because it and the main physician in it, the veterinarian Dr. Martin Goldstein, practices a form of integrative medicine that the farther you get into this documentary the more you may question why we humans are not being treated in this manner by our own current medical establishment.

Dr. Goldstein (below, with patient) has been practicing for some 45 years now, and from what we see of him, his staff and the satisfied owners of his clients, he has been pretty damned successful. Less successful has been his attempts to bring his form of Integrative veterinary medicine -- which "combines conventional therapies with complementary and alternative medicine for a comprehensive collaboration of diagnosis and treatment" -- into greater usage throughout the veterinary establishment.

His results with patients -- granted they're anecdotal and piecemeal -- remain awfully impressive. Dr. Marty, as he is known, invites naysayers to come into his establishment and watch what goes on. When one of these professionals does just that -- we hear about this from the formerly disbelieving doctor himself, after the fact -- he literally faints dead away. Not out of horror but from pure amazement.

Ms Meehl knows how to make a smart, appealing movie. From the outset, as she introduces our hero and shows us the patients he treats, the documentary amuses and informs. One of the doc's first patients we meet is Waffles, a short-haired white dog near death from a rabies shot that probably oughtn't have been administered. Goldstein is definitely not anti-vaccine, but only healthy dogs ought to be vaccinated, he insists ("It says this right on the label of the medicine!"). Otherwise, you are further compromising an already compromised immune system.

We return to Waffles (above) and his recovery and further slippage a number of times throughout the film, which is salutary, since this dog's case brings up so many germane issues -- from vaccinations and treatments to how long to keep an animal alive despite its sickness, together with how the dollar cost of treatment impacts on the whole scenario.

Two other dogs, given up on by conventional methods, are brought to Goldstein with cancer of the jaw. How these play out are quite different but, again, both are handled intelligently and with great care by doctor and pet owners, while giving us a most interesting look into cryosurgery.

Along the way, we learn about Goldstein's history and his current family life, all of which adds to our enjoyment and understanding. At the inspiring finale, we're with the good doctor as he addresses a class of veterinary medicine students at his alma mater, Cornell University. Over the end credits we're treated to a great old Cat Stevens song that, if you've never heard it, will put a smile on your face. If you already know it, what a delight to hear it again!

From FilmRise and running 101 minutes, The Dog Doc is available now to stream digitally via Amazon and/or iTunes.

MINE opens theatrical run: Hurricane Katrina's animal survivors have their day

Geralyn Pezanoski's fine new documentary MINE is all about what happened to the household pets -- mostly dogs -- during, after and even long after Hurricane Katrina. While the during and after sections are fairly expected, though Ms Pezanoski's mind, heart and camera, still manage to catch the odd and affecting moment, it's the "long after" section -- the film's lengthiest -- during which Mine really rivets.

Why did the Katrina evacuees leave their pets? was a much-asked question, post-hurricane. They had to; they were given no choice. Rescue workers told evacuees that they could not take their pets; nor would evacuation centers allows animals on premises. To another question as to why so many more dogs than cats were rescued, one succinct young rescuer explains, "Cats don't bark." Ms Pezanoski's film (the director is shown at left) will appeal more to animal people than to the non-so.  One reviewer has already pitted Katrina's total of dead animals against dead humans to find the film wanting. You can play that game, of course, but this is an attitude that simply (and rather obtusely) misses the point: The movie is meant to be about the part that pets played in this disaster and how important they proved to their owners. (In any case, Ms Pezanoski addresses the human vs animal question early on and then moves forward to focus on her real concerns.)

Mine deals very well with the nitty-gritty of post-disaster animal rescue -- not just the "saving" of the beast, but what to do next: vaccinations, vet check-ups for heartworm and the like. Just as the rescuers felt they were making some progress, Hurricane Rita appeared and undid a lot of what had been accomplished.  The real problem, once an animal has been rescued, is finding the pet's original owner, and when that proves not possible, adopting it out.  It's here that the film begins to fascinate.

What happens when, after pet adoptions have occurred, origi-
nal owners show up and want their ani-
mals back?  (Now you see how appropriate is the film's one-word title.)  Pezanoski follows closely five different missing pets, along with their origi-
nal and new owners, watching carefully how the scenarios play out.  Each, differ-
ent and surprising, will probably force you into considering how you might feel and act, had some disaster separated you from your pet.  One thing I have learned over the years, as a owner of both dogs and cats, is that animals are loyal to whomever takes care of them.  If necessity forced a pet of mine to be relocated to a new owner, and the pet and its new owners had bonded, I believe I would be happy to let it go -- and then adopt a new pet from a shelter.

That, however, is not the case with the pet owners we see here. Desperate to have their animals back, they try everything -- and then try it again.  Class and race enter the picture, too, as does the idea of an animal as a piece of private property. Listen to the scary phone tirade by one man against the Katrina victims who "abandoned" their animals.  And yet, in some cases, what he says was true: the pit bulls, badly scarred, but now saved from a short life of constant dog-fighting. 

Each of the five cases we follow must be taken on its own basis, and I suspect you'll have mixed feelings about what happens and why.  If you're a pet owner, you'll watch with growing interest; if you're not, there's still plenty here to make you sit up and consider.

Mine -- released by Film Movement, opens Friday, January 15 in New York City at the Cinema Village.  Further playdates -- theaters and cities -- can be found here (click and scroll down). Note: the film opens in New Orleans on January 22, with the director present for a Q&A.  Now, that should be interesting!