State of body	A little malnourished, occasionally beaten, but mostly healthy. Killed by a couple of ticks and an infestation of nits.
Detail of inspection	Inspected twice.
Forensic Investigator	shellshear
Comments	Competently done, until the usual mess at the finale. Why do action movies so often fall apart at the end?

“My dear Doctor Winston,” I said, “are you mad?”

Dr. Winston carefully placed his scalpel back on the tray and picked up a bone saw, not looking up from the cadaver that currently resided on the slab.

“Quite mad,” he said, as he commenced vigorously sawing along the dotted line on the neck.

“Excellent!” I said, rubbing my hands together. “Then I have a suggestion that may amuse you. Thus far, we have used our analytic skills only for good. But who watches over us, eh? Who analyses the analysts?”

“Somebody fairly anal, I imagine,” said Dr. Winston.

I ploughed on. “Nobody, that’s who. Why, we could write the most irresponsible garbage imaginable, and who would stop us?”

“That reminds me,” said Dr. Winston, “I’ve been meaning to talk about our one remaining reader. He would like us to write more often about boobies. Apparently, he is an ardent ornothologist.”

“We have a very select readership,” I said. “There are certain limiting factors: namely that the reader must have seen the (usually mediocre) film in question; they should remember some of it; and that they should be sufficiently curious to wish to see the film improved, rather than merely for it to disappear forever in the great graveyard of dollar-shop drinks coasters. Which is why I think we should try something a little different.”

“You’re always trying something a little different,” said Dr. Winston. “I’ve seen dozens of your procrastination strategies.”

“It is my most fervent hope,” I said, “that some day someone will misremember a detail of a film they’ve seen and will be disappointed that one of the good bits was missing, all because of a Film Forensics review they once read. But if I cannot be misremembered for Good, perhaps I can be misremembered… for Evil.”

The head finally popped off the corpse, rolled along the slab, and fell into the bucket. There was a little spurt of shiraz-coloured (or possibly cabernet savignion; I’m not expert) blood from the neck. Dr. Winston peered at his paperwork. “That one was dead already, right?”

“Take the film ‘Unleashed’ (aka ‘Danny The Dog’),” I said. “A reasonably successful Jet Li film, showcasing his acting skills along with the usual gymnastic fighting. Imagine it instead as a high-profile high-concept Ivan Reitman film with a young Arnold Swarzenegger, Twins-era, the transition film from action to comedy. Do you honestly think there are checks and balances against this kind of thing? For that matter, imagine it with practically any other action-movie star. Jean-Claude Van Damme. Steven Seagal. Keanu Reeves. Can you imagine them even playing the piano?”

“It might work with Jackie Chan,” said Dr. Winston, “if you could keep him from mugging for long enough.”

“The point is, for that film, Jet Li is practically the only choice imaginable, which is fair enough because the role was written for him. He has a level of humility that makes the Danny character convincing. Did you notice how he wouldn’t look people in the eye, how he would walk along with his head down but slightly cocked? Did you see how he used the whites of his eyes? Great doggish mannerisms. And neat of them to use the dog metaphor; he could be the most vicious killer in the world, but still be endearing.”

“It sounds to me like you’re doing a perfectly normal forensic analysis,” said Dr. Winston. “What about the version with Arnie? ‘He bit off more dan he could chew,’ he says after killing a bad guy. The tagline: ‘His bite is worse than his bark’.”

“I had only four real problems with the film,” I said. “Firstly, I think they should have established Danny’s level of intelligence a little earlier. It came as a surprise to me that he was capable of speech or a level of understanding more sophisticated than that of a dog. It’s fair enough that he blossoms when he leaves his master, that he has hidden reserves, but our expectations of what he is capable of are too low. This is a minor nit, and could have been solved with a few lines – for example, when Danny is told to go through the door when the light turns red. ‘What do you do when the light turns red?’ says his master. ‘Door,’ says Danny. As it was, I wasn’t even sure whether he was capable of comprehending the instruction. In retrospect, that was because he was being distracted by all those pianos, but it wasn’t clear at the time.”

“‘I’ve been a bad boy,’ says Arnie, as he chokes a bad guy to death.”

“Secondly,” I said, “I thought the scene where the bad guys get him back wasn’t well handled. The henchman runs into him outside the supermarket, and Danny goes back with him to his master, and they resume life as though the little interlude away from home hadn’t happened. It may be ‘realistic’ – I can accept that Danny had been conditioned to the extent that he wouldn’t protest – but it lacked drama. This is a significant moment, and it’s downplayed. In addition, his master doesn’t ask where he’s been all this time, who he’s been talking to about all of his master’s crimes. Has he talked to the police? Is he wearing a wiretap? We can solve these problems and heighten the tension by having the scene where the henchman sees Danny earlier in the movie. However, in this version, the henchman is in a train, and sees Danny outside the supermarket in passing. Danny doesn’t see the henchman. We continue to follow Danny’s blossoming, but with the knowledge that the bad guys have seen him, and that he is in peril if he goes back to the supermarket. And so it goes: Danny later goes back to the supermarket with Morgan, and they’re watching. They see the relationship that Danny has – that he’s been adopted by Morgan – and when Morgan and Danny separate, Danny’s master appears and takes back Danny. The master has seen what Danny’s been up to in the past months, and knows that it’s safe, that the old man is blind and not a threat. We can even play up this aspect: have the confrontation a silent one in the supermarket. Danny is there with Morgan, testing the fruit, and his master appears, not saying anything but not having to. Danny has to go back with his master – loyalty, conditioning, and of course the unspoken threat that his master could just kill Morgan on the spot. We can play it from that point that his master knows all about Morgan and could kill him at any time, or more simply, that he doesn’t bother following Morgan home, now that he has Danny back.”

“‘Beg for your life,’ says the bad guy. ‘Play dead,’ says Arnie, killing him.”

“Thirdly, the logical conclusion that will leaping to everyone’s mind at various points in the film – that the master is Danny’s father – is completely ignored, neither confirmed or denied (as far as I could tell). Perhaps they’re being subtle. Perhaps the master trys to goad Danny into killing him at the end out of guilt at his treatment, but it’s a funny way to show it. However, I think the intention is that he is not Danny’s father. The best way to show this would be for him to claim to be Danny’s father, at some critical wavering point of Danny’s loyalties. It’s a ludicrous suggestion – but not to Danny, of course – and it can be made clear through the tone that it’s just a ruse.”

“He gets thrown into a lake tied up in a sack. ‘I’ll be bark,’ he says.”

“Fourthly, the conclusion made little sense. His master orders Danny to kill him, because he’s more interested in Danny staying a killer than preserving his own life. Perhaps he feels guilty about killing Danny’s mother (or treating his own son like a dog, as in the previous point). The point of the scene is that Danny must choose between his new peaceful path and being a killer, and that the story therefore needs reason for him to revert to being a killer. Perhaps his master, instead, should claim that Morgan and the girl have been killed, hoping to get Danny back. Danny instead goes into a frenzy, and the master hides. While Danny is searching, intent on revenge, he instead calms down and cries. He’s not capable of killing any more. His master comes out and is going to kill him, but then Morgan and the girl turn up, perhaps with the police.”

“Rubbish!” said Dr. Winston. “Morgan and the girl are killed at the half-way mark, prompting a bloody swathe of revenge! The master is played by Brigitte Neilson. Arnie calls her a bitch.”

“Come here, Dr. Winston,” I said. He came over, and I put his collar back on.

“Sorry,” he said.

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