In a nutshell (sorry, lasagna-filled shell), Garfield’s character epitomizes the essence of laziness and gluttony (come on, who doesn’t love to eat some good food?). He’s the big orange cat we admired as we read Jim Davis’s creation unfold across newspapers and several published books of the cat’s usual shticks. Garfield had a (justifiable) disdain for Monday, something even the most indolent of folks can attest to. He manipulates his caretaker Jon and buddy Odie the dog to do his mischievous deeds for him, and the character makes the general knack of snacking whenever he takes pleasure. Oh, and he dislikes spiders (he makes witty jokes as he tries to pummel each one into the table) or makes imaginary sarcastic comments when Jon or Odie are the juvenile ones (the irony of this latter detail).
Fox took two stabs at bringing the cat to life with CGI back in 2006 and 2007, with Bill Murray voicing the cat in a whirlwind of bland CGI and abysmal storytelling. Now, we have a third-theatrically released film under the same brand, and well, it indeed becomes the quintessence of what we still aren’t expecting out of our overweight cat. In a mangled plot of sorts, the story keeps it simple initially, with Garfield (voiced by Chris Pratt) stumbling as a little one next to John (Nicholas Hoult) one night at a pizza parlor and devouring all in his sights before John adopts him and brings him home to indulge in food and lazy times alongside Odie (Harvey Guillen). Out of the blue, both animals get kidnapped and become entangled in a country crime spree to steal a massive load of milk for a devious cat named Jinx (Hannah Waddingham). Why? Because Garfield’s father, Vic (Samuel L. Jackson), owes Jinx an outstanding debt after she was caught during a botched milk heist from back in the day, and wants to make Jinx and Garfield throw hate at one another due to their estranged relationship while getting this milk truck back to her. So her two henchmen, Roland (Brett Goldstein) and Nolan (Bowen Yang), keep eagle eyes on them to ensure they follow through on the job, or they’ll be toast.
In addition, when they attempt to break into the Lactose Farm to steal the product, they come across Otto (Ving Rhames), the farm’s former mascot, who dwells over not having the opportunity to steal his beloved lover Ethel from the farm’s security after being forced out of the corporation. Thus, the trio works with Otto to plan the heist so everyone succeeds, and Jon finds his two animals again.
The film itself is somewhat neutered in its desire to treasure Garfield’s quotidian gag machine while hammering out a mixed-emotional tale about why Vic abandoned him throughout the years. The film becomes a sprint of cynicism, dosed with corporate product placement and some lethargic pop-culture references. Was referencing Mission Impossible/Tom Cruise going to earn you any style points? The other nuisance is Pratt’s voicing of Garfield becomes unaligned with Garfield’s core; he trots around like a loathsome, desperate teenager, not precisely a cat-cracking wise to Jon or Odie in the household. His voice performance in The Super Mario Bros. Movie was debatably “fine,” but this is borderline dullish. Some jokes also don’t produce enough of a laugh, so you’re merely tagging along in the fun these folks are dealing with onscreen.
In all these years, Jim Davis has kept the character marketable, a reflection of human needs. And while those moments come in the montages, they get watered down by an inconsistent narrative and a disregard for what Garfield is. Had they stuck with a twenty-minute short film, we’d have discussed a product that respected its source material more fondly.
So go grab some coffee, folks, and lounge around because The Garfield Movie, for all its slapstick and animation, doesn’t hold a candle compared to other better-animated comedies out there. Yes, it is technically the best of the three greenlit features, but it doesn’t get our hopes up for the fourth one.
