Review: At Least Disney+'s "Lady and the Tramp" Remake Has Cute Dogs

Scene from Lady and the Tramp (2019)

The 2019 live-action remake of Lady and the Tramp feels like it would only ever work on a streaming service like Disney+. This isn't a knock on its quality, but more than the final product feels more antiquated and silly, lacking a 21st-century spectacle that other Disney theatricals like Dumbo and The Lion King have had this year. It's a story about two puppies who fall in love, roll a meatball across a plate, and kiss under the moonlight. It's a tame enough story that the best its marketing could come up with for promotional material was to just show the titular dogs sitting on a porch. If Lady and the Tramp had to be remade, it would've been too quaint to play in a theater, in part because of how tender the story is but also because of how it lacks anything resembling an exciting action plot. Like Netflix and Hulu before them, Disney+ has found a place where these remakes belong: on a streaming service to be watched with morbid curiosity, without risk of dropping $40 for a family to see something humdrum like this. It's good, but not likely to have much of a legacy.

For what it's worth, Disney deserves some credit for loving recreating this story in a way that emphasizes the themes of the original. This goes down to its core, where Lady and Tramp are played by shelter dogs who by the story's end adopt two puppies. As much as this is a story about the haves and have-nots learning to empathize, it's a story of how we need to open our hearts to shelter dogs, allow them to live with us and grow as a part of an adopted family. The ingenious approach gives a certain new relevance to the story, and even feels like the perfect metaphor (albeit a cynical one) about Disney+ as a streaming service. Adopting a dog makes you feel good, especially one whose heart is as pure as Tramp's. It makes you feel good and will enrich your life, so why not give in?

The film also may go down as the one live-action Disney remake of the 2010s that didn't change anything too radical from the original. That's in part because the story of two dogs madly in love is so tame that it lacks anything controversial. It's about going on adventures and seeing the great outdoors. The dogs accidentally fall over each other in accidental passion, creating a cute image that audiences know so well. Tessa Thompson's voice work as Lady is charming, managing to add bashful flourishes throughout. In fact, the general voice-work on the dogs is fine, save for Tramp (Justin Theroux) who never develops enough of a playful vibe to truly be the lothario of the canine species Disney promised. Still, it comes across as the type of fodder that works as an inoffensive Disney Channel movie that played some night midweek. It's enough to fill time, but at the end of the day the mileage of the film's success is how much you find the dogs adorable (thankfully, it goes a long, long way).

The use of actual live animals also plays to the film's advantage, especially during scenes where Lady and Tramp are required to scamper across the street, constantly in peril from passing cars. From the camera's low angle, it feels like everything is a danger and suddenly the struggle of a dog feels more real. It's a moment where Disney truly understands how hard it is to be a dog. There are also moments where the dogs are allowed to perform more comedic stunts, such as a scene where Lady "has rabies" and flails herself around an alleyway. It's the type of silliness that makes these films work. While the rest may be a conventional love story, albeit, with animals that aren't facially as emotive as we'd like, it still has a heartwarming center that appeals to dog lovers out there, looking for a film that won't upset their children or really challenge anyone's beliefs.

If there's one change that feels jarring, it is the one most expected to be absent. While Disney+ has taken to labeling their older movies with warnings of "culturally outdated" behavior, the choice to replace "We Are Siamese" with "What a Shame" is... confusing. While the original song's absence makes sense given its portrayal of Asian stereotypes, the replacement song is jarring and, most of all, inessential. While it's fun to watch two cats tear up drapes and knock over vases (even if they are one of few CGI characters), the song really adds nothing to the scene. If anything, it replaces Asian stereotypes with black ones thanks to the New Orleans jazz-style track (the only reason it doesn't seem more jarring is that Lady is owned by an interracial family). Lyrically, the song adds nothing to the scene and feels like a desperate attempt to add another song to the Disney canon. It doesn't need it. Taking out the song for the otherwise inconsequential characters actually improves the scene and improves the tension of the scene. The song just distracts and creates a pointless reminder that "We Are Siamese" was taken out for being racist. While the film is otherwise short on songs, the rest luckily don't feel as jarring in the new context.

In fact, the film's shining moment is one that most likely has known from Disney lore going on 60 years. It's the moment where Lady and Tramp have an Italian dinner as the waiter (this time played by F. Murray Abraham) plays "Bella Note" on an accordion. It's sweet and captures why this remake exists at all. We all wanted to see what it looks like with real dogs. Thankfully, it looks just fine, managing to rely on Lady's giant, gorgeous eyes and Tramp's shaggy fur. The fact that it's allegedly done by real dogs and not digitally altered makes it all the more impressive. If this film has any merit, it's how much supposed effort went into making the dogs feel like organic characters. As limiting as this experience may be by the end, it definitely gives the film some form of a heart. It knows not to mess with the dogs. The dogs are cute enough on their own. 

Lady and the Tramp is the most faithful, inoffensive film that Disney has remade in the past decade. As a result, it goes down smoothly and is sure to put a smile on the faces of those willing to accept its innocent story. However, that reality means that it's doomed to be the least memorable remake in the studio's history. Had it not been Disney+'s first movie, who knew if this would just fade into some obscurity. While it has the charm of a silly romantic dog movie, its indecision regarding risks make it hard to remember in the same way that Pete's Dragon had a more serious tone, or Aladdin having a rapping genie. Even the inferior remakes like Alice in Wonderland challenged tone. Lady and the Tramp can't be bothered to change something that won't make the film more unique, save for a deeper emphasis on the emotional attachment to shelter dogs.

Then the entire experience ends with something that Disney has been working on for eons now. As the closing credits ran for Lady and the Tramp, the screen shrunk to reveal an option to watch the original. With that in mind, isn't why these remakes exist, to get us to watch the originals? Disney+ is a masterstroke in shortening the time between watching their remakes and giving in to the impulse of the original. It's brilliant, actually. However, it perfectly explains why the film that has nothing wrong with it has a flawed existence, to begin with. As cute as it is to watch dogs on wild adventures and how well the film is made otherwise, it's all just an excuse to visit other parts of Disney+ and give into nostalgia, whether it's 60 years or two months ago. Lady and the Tramp is a gateway movie to this phenomenon, and its presence as a doorframe is fine at best.