A critical analysis of the Paw Patrol movie (2021)

An evil Mayor and crestfallen dog’s insight into identity crisis.

“So kids, I got to pick a movie for us yesterday; I hope you all enjoyed that classic flick Citizen Kane, and learnt some valuable lessons about the media’s influence, power dynamics in society, and the ongoing internal battle between personal and professional personas. You can now choose what film we will watch today, as long as you all agree on the choice and promise not to fight each other about it.” “We want to watch the Paw Patrol movie!” “Aww that’s cute. But after years of carefully weaning you off that hellish abomination of a show, surely you want to watch something different? [I shoot a pleading look towards their older sibling] Surely you want something more grown up?” “Nope”

Therein lies a rough account of how I ended up watching the Paw Patrol movie. OK, I paraphrased and distorted a little… The previous day we had watched Nimoma, not Citizen Kane. Also the ‘hellish abomination’ line may have been my internal monologue as opposed to actual verbalisations. (I said something way worse).

The thing is, Paw Patrol isn’t that bad. I even quite enjoyed the first couple of episodes I saw – the colourful and exuberant vibe, the action-filled set pieces, the mayor having a pet chicken. It was all sufficiently diverting, if you could get your head around the emergency services being run by a bunch of over-funded dogs bossed around by a power-crazed 10 year old.

Subsequent overexposure soon revealed the show’s formulaic nature. There will be some accident or the Mayor creates a crisis (whether it’s the good mayor being clumsy or the evil mayor being evil), the dogs will launch their vehicles in an elaborate and overly-lengthy sequence (given that there’s meant to be an unfolding emergency to resolve), the pups will save the day, make a silly joke about dog treats or whatever – end episode, rinse and repeat.

My kids and I then moved onto shows like Owl House, Avatar: The Last Airbender, The Legend of Korra, Dragon Prince, Sky vs. the forces of evil, etc, which were so much better that we never really looked back. I appreciate that the shows we transitioned to skew to an older audience. However if I look back and compare the pups’ adventures against other more junior fare then there are still way better shows out there, with series like Bluey and Hey Duggie featuring much more variety and imagination. So let’s just say that when I settled down to experience the pups’ first big screen adventure*, my expectations were almost-insultingly low.

*A point of clarification: I am referring to the 2021 movie, not the 2023 release featuring a confusingly-similar title – which I’ve not seen, but I’d like to imagine its story jumps forward to the pups as beaten-down, cynical veterans nearing their end of days who, after a period of estranged isolation, are brought together again for one last job. The story would then of course culminate in a final set piece featuring at least one heroic, emotional sacrifice.

Yet I must confess that the movie is actually rather decent, or at least better than it has any right to be.
The film starts off on a good foot, opening with some rather gorgeous animation of Adventure Bay and an exciting-ish rescue sequence initiated by an adorable baby turtle and culminating in a lorry teetering off the edge of a bridge. I loved the knowing joke when the driver in distress exclaims their shock that they are being rescued by puppies (not even full-grown dogs) and asks when the ‘real rescuers’ are due to arrive.

The puppies then need to leave their hometown of ‘Adventure Bay’ and travel to the imaginatively–named ‘Adventure City’ to counter the devious plans of its new leader, their long-running nemesis Mayor Humdinger.

Therein a strange plot kicks in of a weather-altering device on the loose, thanks to Mayor Humdinger’s populist, shortsighted impulses. And it all chugs along in a rather easy-going, watchable way that doesn’t outstay its welcome. Even when more cliched plot contrivances come to the fore – illicit dog-napping anyone? – even the film itself seems to realise it has gone too far, and swiftly moves onto the next set-piece before anyone can become too bored or annoyed.

The film even has some funny moments. My kids loved the slapstick elements like the Mayor continually losing his trousers, and I enjoyed the occasional line – for instance the Mayor’s assertion “I’m an unelected public official, what’s the worst that could happen?”

The film also provides a little, much-needed, depth to a couple of the characters – in particular the police dog Chase trying to overcome a traumatic origin story of being an abandoned stray in the city, and a new character Liberty’s plucky, streetwise attempts to achieve her dream of joining the Paw Patrol gang.
And, maybe it’s just me – you know what, it probably is – but Chase’ character arc touches on some surprisingly weighty themes.

If you have never seen the Paw Patrol series before then let me explain something to you: Chase is consistently the most useless member of the team. His role is often limited to fairly spurious, minor tasks, such as setting out cones on the road and using a megaphone to (literally) bark out instructions – the equivalent of that Simpsons episode where Homer was tasked with ‘guarding the bee’ so he could be kept out of the way of a workplace inspection. And even on the occasions when Chase does have a slightly more meaningful impact, the elephant in the room is that one of his pup-tastic colleagues, each with far more specialised skills and equipment, could probably have achieved the same outcome in a safer and more efficient way. So in the movie, when Chase endures some screw-ups during a couple of missions, the rapid unraveling of his identity and onset of imposter syndrome was sadly not a huge shock to me.

His human leader, Ryder, offers vague sympathies but actions speak louder than words: Ryder ultimately forces Chase to return to Adventure City in spite of the triggering environment it presents, suspends Chase from the Paw Patrol team, and then expects Chase to swiftly jump back into work based on an inspiring speech about his ‘courage’ (which is a sweet but perhaps over-simplistic solution to dealing with PTSD).

This critical portrayal of Chase’s character is starkly contrasted with Liberty’s character who, no matter how bleak their situation (living on the streets, continually denied recognition), just keeps plugging away, knowing that with hard work and dedication they will eventually get whatever they want. In this way, the film feels like a dogmatic (pun intended) advocate for the American Dream. The patriotic dog (‘Liberty’) works hard and will get what they want, your past cannot hold you back, Chase just needs to do the same and everyone just needs to get on with stuff and it will all be fine.

The film has a slight conservative-leaning edge – or at least it does if you enjoy over-analysing children’s movies as much as I do. Yet, the film perhaps has a left-wing sensibility too, primarily in its depiction of Mayor Humdinger. The Mayor is clearly meant as a Donald Trump-esque character – continually chasing short-term popularity no matter the ethical barriers. Impulsive, foolish, confused, he even chastises a zoned-out, sluggish firework operator with the immortal put-down “no one has time for your self-indulgent hippy-dippy art project!”

Yet, I want to do something controversial here: I want to stand up for Mayor Humdinger. He may be a Trumpian menace, sporting an evil mustache and I would not want him to be a real-life leader with any actual power. However, if we look at the film’s events, perhaps he is actually a misunderstood visionary? Seriously, let’s assess his supposed flights-of-fancy one-by-one. First, he wants to control the weather so it is less rainy and stormy. Which is clearly not the best idea, I doubt he’s thought of the farmers – and yes, he should listen to the scientist’s advice that the weather device is not quite ready yet. However it is not a particularly evil or scandalous idea, he simply wants to make the weather nicer for everyone. He is driven by his craving for public affection, but which politician isn’t?

Second, he wants to turn the subway into a rollercoaster with a loop-de-loop. Look, let me level with you – I genuinely like this idea. Seriously, it would be so much fun and lift everyone’s spirits. It’s not that much different than the idea of using slides to liven up work commutes. I should admit, I am someone with a weird fascination with the ambitious, failed transport projects trialed throughout history – for instance the wooden travelators in the streets of Paris, double decker motorways, mag-lev trains (well they have had some limited success, but you get my point).

Third, he builds a really big tower. Well, it’s perhaps not the most optimum use of public funds – although the film does not detail whether he managed to secure some corporate sponsorship for its construction. But ultimately it’s just another big tower, it kind of looks impressive from the ground and adds to the city’s majesty, so what’s the problem?

OK, so all three of these new initiatives fail – the weather device ultimately causes a severe storm, the subway loop-de-loop falls apart, trapping passengers upside-down, and the tower disintegrates. Yet the main criticism for Mayor Humdinger in my eyes is that he did not hire better contractors. And maybe, if I was his political aide, I would offer him some advice on the art of compromise: “Look, we cannot reliably control the weather yet, so why not build a roof over the main shopping streets instead & encourage people to visit downtown?” Or “I love the rollercoaster train idea, perhaps let’s invest in some seatbelts and provide some communications so subway users are well-prepared?”

Once again, we return to the theme of one’s identity. Mayor Humdinger must serve the role of the cartoonish pantomime villain, the sleazy, self-obsessed politician. His name, his appearance, his egotistical selfish cats. It all adds up, it defines his purpose for existence. And the movie uses his archetype as an excuse for dismissing his ideas and, in turn, his sense of self-worth. To put it in simpler, starker terms, just because someone is bad does not mean that all their ideas are bad too.

What have we learned? That children’s movies offer more insight and resonance than one may care to admit. And lastly, don’t let your kids pick what movie you get to watch.

Joe’s Archive – Paw Patrol