Best in Show (2000)

Although the term is largely reserved for prestigious dramatic directors such as Hitchcock, Truffaut, and Kubrick, Christopher Guest is an auteur is every sense of the word. Who says satirists whose works contain dog poop jokes cannot be considered distinguished? Visual and narrative motifs run throughout his films (of which he is typically screenwriter as well as director); chief among them, mockumentary style and not-so-subtle criticisms of bourgeois idiosyncrasies. In other words, he pokes fun at the middle class and strange by having only slightly exaggerated versions of them speak directly to camera. Best in Show, his examination of dog show enthusiasts, is one of his best films (up there with the one that started it all, This is Spinal Tap).

The movie follows five dogs and their handlers as they prepare for and attend the Mayflower Kennel Club Dog Show. The motley crew begins with Meg and Hamilton, lovers of L.L. Bean who fell in love over Starbucks and catalogue browsing, and their Weimaraner Beatrice who is supposedly suffering from depression and anxiety after watching her parents have sex. Terrier owners Gerry and Cookie somehow keep running into Cookie’s numerous ex-lovers scattered across the East Coast, challenging what little self-confidence the man with (literally) two left feet has. North Carolinian Harlan raises Bloodhounds in between discussions of fly fishing and practicing ventriloquism. NYC couple Scott and Stefan raise prize Shih Tzus, and probably have the healthiest relationship of the bunch. Sherri Ann is an Anna Nicole Smith-style trophy wife who spends much of her time with dog trainer Christy, while her husband exists in a near catatonic state. Fred Willard steals the show as usual, this time as an announcer with a seemingly endless repertoire of dog related sexual innuendo.

Guest utilizes some of the same acting talent for many of his films (Eugene Levy, Catherine O’Hara, Michael McKean, Parker Posey, Jane Lynch, Willard, etc.), most seasoned improv comedians from Second City. Improvisation is another important hallmark of his films; trusting in the individual genius of his stellar cast provides brilliant off-the-wall humor and serves the movies’ documentary style. They are all witty, droll, and quietly insane. Guest’s method for achieving this is unique. Dialogue is not written, only an outline and character descriptions with backstories are created, and the scenes are merely described to the actors. There is no rehearsal, everything is in the moment, so spontaneity lends to a sort of authenticity; Guest calls it “reacting” instead of “acting.” Everyone gets paid the same and receives a share of the profits, adding to the truly communal and ensemble experience.

What is potentially rather boring subject matter and visual style is kept fresh by cutting back and forth between the four couples and one bachelor, not really spending more than ten minutes at a time with any one dog lover. Keeping this editing pace makes up for a lack of action and scripted “jokes;” you are not given the time to grow tired of any one character. The humor lies in the slightly ridiculous characters, their play off one another, and expertly crafted, subtle one-liners. The film’s form lends itself to the illusion of effortlessness, but you can only imagine the wit and skill it takes for these comedians to make up every piece of dialogue on the spot, essentially writing and acting simultaneously.