At a Southern California genetics laboratory, the semi-mad Dr. Jarrett (Henricksen) has managed to splice the genetic codes of a tiger, a bear, a chameleon, and assorted other animals with that of a burly mastiff named Max. The doctor’s shining dream? To market the genetically altered canine as the world’s best guard dog: Beethoven with an attitude. Into the picture comes television journalist Lori Tanner (Sheedy), a self-righteous newshound who breaks into Jarrett’s lab one night searching for a hot story on vivisection and animal rights. Instead, she ends up freeing the cuddly mastiff and taking him home with her. What nobody knows (and what the doctor is reluctant to reveal, for reasons best known to himself) is that the dog has been heavily tranquilized while in captivity, and once the sedative begins to wear off, he’ll begin turning into a more lethal version of Stephen King’s Cujo. The body count mounts as Max makes short work of neighborhood cats and mailmen, while a pair of ineffectual detectives scurry about trying to look like they know what they’re doing. Yes, it’s a mess. Lafia keeps things moving at a brisk pace, but glaring plot holes illuminate the obvious glitches that seem to pop up in almost every scene. Henricksen (excellent in both Aliens and the recent Hard Target) plays Dr. Jarrett as a disheveled, manic scientist intent only on retrieving his stray experiment; with artfully mussed hair and a perpetually harried expression glued to his face, he runs afoul of both the law and the school of Method Acting — all in one film. Sheedy is woefully miscast, wandering exuberantly through scene after scene, smiling, screaming, totally lost. As a low-rent shocker, you could do worse, but not by all that much. Beware of the dog.
This article appears in December 3 • 1993 (Cover).