Les chiens de paille

Les cinéphiles épris des courants plus sombres et abyssaux du premier film seront déçus, bien sûr. Mais, relativement parlant, ce Chiens de paille est sauvagement captivant.

This ambivalence was part of the provocation of the original movie, as well, but it never finds its full effect here. For one thing, we're never primed to like David: Marsden has made him into too much of a jerk.

With a more suitable male lead and stronger subtext, Rod Lurie's remake of Straw Dogs could have been much more. The movie isn't completely without merit, as it's competently shot, well edited, and features some fine performances, but at the end its overwhelming flaws make the film a hollow experience.

Rod Lurie's remake of Straw Dogs is a competently made, more-or-less watchable facsimile of Sam Peckinpah's violent and disturbing 1971 cult classic. If that sounds like backhanded praise, well, it is, because Lurie's version is neither as daring nor as thought-provoking as Peckinpah's interpretation.

Remake of Sam Peckinpah's controversial original retains the sensational violence but loses character depth and ambiguity.

Give the director this: He pulls no punches in emulating the violence that made the first film so controversial. And while it may not become the cult classic of its predecessor, Straw Dogs redux stays a literal cut above its crime brethren.

Lurie wants us to see the moral wounds that come from losing control, a solid reason for a remake. Both takes on Straw Dogs hold up a dark mirror to humanity. Choose your own bad medicine.

The new Straw Dogs is at times a faithful copy of the old one, reproducing a great many scenes, shots and passages of dialogue, and tweaking others ever so slightly. As a filmmaker, Mr. Lurie cannot hope to match Peckinpah's lyricism, but he strikes a decent balance of bluntness and subtlety.