The first thing to notice about John Duigan's Lawn Dogs is the astounding performance of newcomer Mischa Barton, who plays Devon, the 10-year old protagonist. Barton is a natural actress, and manages to convey the perfect blend of maturity and innocence necessary for us to accept her character as something more vital than the construct of an uneven plot. Amongst all the weeds of Lawn Dogs, she represents one of the few true blades of grass.
The second thing to recognize is the keenly-realized relationship between Devon and a 21 year-old lawn cutter named Trent (Sam Rockwell, from Box of Moonlight). Theirs is basically a friendship between outsiders, and, although there is an undeniable sexual undercurrent inherent in their interaction, it's kept subtle, and Duigan never exploits it. This is no Lolita; these two have a great deal in common on an emotional level, but neither is interested in entering into a physical relationship. In fact, on the one occasion when Trent thinks Devon is making a sexual overture, he becomes extremely uncomfortable, and she laughs at the foolishness of his presumption.
Sadly, Barton's standout performance and the core relationship are really the only two worthwhile aspects of Lawn Dogs, a film that never quite gels into a satisfying whole. The problem is twofold. The plot is unwieldy and peppered with familiar, melodramatic moments. Worse, the supporting characters are all pure caricatures. The plentiful attempts at satirizing the suburban lifestyle consistently strike a wrong note, often seeming cruel, uncomfortable, or out-of-synch. Every scintilla of thought and creativity evident in Lawn Dogs was lavished upon Devon, Trent, and their peculiar relationship. All other elements of the film are disappointingly banal.
One of the primary themes evident in Lawn Dogs relates to the differences between the "haves" and "have nots" of the world, or, as Trent puts it, "people that own lawns and people that mow them." Trent is one of the latter, a college-aged loner who lives in a run-down trailer outside of town because he can't afford anything better. To raise a little cash, he transports his mower to the nearby, gated community of Camelot Gardens, where, for forty dollars a lawn, he does the cutting and trimming necessary for everyone to keep up with the Joneses. The home owners in the lavish, perfectly-manicured development tolerate Trent's presence because he serves a necessary function, but, when it comes to using their lavatory facilities or socializing with their children, he is persona non grata. And when a theft occurs, he is the automatic suspect.
Devon is the precocious daughter of Morton (Christopher McDonald) and Clare (Kathleen Quinlan), two newcomers to Camelot Gardens. Their overriding concern is to earn the approval of their neighbors by presenting the facade of a perfect family. Devon is bored, unhappy, and profoundly depressed by her parents' shallow behavior. Her disdain for other kids ("they smell like TV and they talk too fast") prevents her from having any friends her own age. One day, when she's out selling cookies for a girlscout-like organization, she meets Trent and senses a kindred spirit. It isn't long before the two of them have become unlikely pals, and are doing all sorts of fun things together, like stealing and cooking chickens, dancing to a Bruce Springsteen song on the roof of Trent's truck, and mooning a couple of startled fishermen.
Sitting through Lawn Dogs is like watching two entwined movies of vastly different quality. One is a well-written, atypical buddy story. The other is an uneven, clich-riddled look at the inherent schism between the outsider and the citizens of the closed, privileged community of Camelot Gardens. The film expends enough effort on the latter to mute the impact of the former, and the climactic sequence is an exercise in violent, predictable melodrama. Director John Duigan has made a career out of exploring conflicts between mavericks and the establishment (see his Flirting, Sirens, and The Journey of August King for prime examples), but this is his weakest feature to date. While there are things to appreciate in Lawn Dogs, especially Barton's performance, the film as a whole left me strangely unfulfilled.
John Duigan's "Lawn Dogs'' is like a nasty accident at the symbol factory. Pieces are scattered all over the floor as the wounded help each other to the exits. Some of the pieces look well-made and could be recycled. We pick up a few of them and put them together, to see if they'll fit. But they all seem to come from different designs.
The movie isn't clear about what it's trying to say--what it wants us to believe when we leave. It has the form of a message picture, without the message. It takes place in an upscale Kentucky housing development named Camelot Gardens, where the $300,000 homes sit surrounded by big lawns and no trees. It's a gated community; the security guard warns one of the "lawn dogs''--or yard workers--to be out of town by 5 p.m.
In one of the new houses lives 10-year-old Devon (Mischa Barton), who has a scar running down her chest after heart surgery. Her insipid parents are Morton (Christopher McDonald) and Clare (Kathleen Quinlan). Morton plans to run for office. Clare has casual sex with local college kids. And Trent (Sam Rockwell) mows their lawn.
Devon is in revolt, although she doesn't articulate it as interestingly as the heroine of "Welcome To The Dollhouse.'' She wanders beyond the gates, finds Trent's trailer home in the woods, and becomes his friend. There are unrealized undertones of sexuality in her behavior, which the movie never makes overt, except in the tricky scene where she asks Trent to touch her scar. He has a scar, too; here's a new version of you show me yours and I'll show you mine.
The people inside Camelot Gardens are all stupid pigs. That includes the security guard, the parents and the college kids, who insult and bully Trent. Meanwhile, Trent and Devon spend idyllic afternoons in the woods, being friends, until there is a tragic misunderstanding that leads to the death of a dog and even more alarming consequences.
Nobody makes it into the movie just as an average person. Trent's dad is a Korean War vet whose lungs were destroyed by microbes in the K rations, and who is trying to give away his American flag collection. Trent is the kind of guy who stops traffic on a one-lane bridge while he strips, dives into the river, and walks back to his pickup boldly nude. Devon is the kind of little girl who crawls out onto her roof, throws her nightgown into the sky and utters wild dog cries at the moon.
All of these events happen with the precision and vivid detail of a David Lynch movie, but I do not know why. It is easy to make a film about people who are pigs and people who are free spirits, but unless you show how or why they got that way, they're simply characters you've created. It's easy to have Devon say, "I don't like kids--they smell like TV.'' But what does this mean when a 10-year-old says it? It's easy to show good people living in trailers and awful people living in nice homes, but it can work out either way. It's easy to write a father who wants his little girl to have plastic surgery so her scar won't turn off boys, and then a boy who thinks it's "cool.'' But where is it leading? What is it saying? Camelot Gardens is a hideous place to live. So? Get out as fast as you can.
To keep Hazlet Township a great place to live, the township has established some quality of life ordinances to protect the health, comfort and happiness of residents. These ordinances are enforceable and violators may face fines. Here are a few of our local rules.
View the township's complete code here.
Owners must register dogs annually and show proof of rabies inoculation. Dogs must wear their registration tags at all times and be leashed when off-property
Excessive barking that annoys neighbors is not acceptable.
Owners must pick up dog feces and dispose of them properly.
No more than four dogs per house is allowed.
Trailers, boats or boat trailers that are 21 feet or more in length must be parked inside a building.
Under 21 feet: they can be stored in side or rear yards, but never in the front yard. They should be screened from view.
Residents cannot use these vehicles for living, sleeping, housekeeping or recreational purposes when parked.
Don't do it! Use public receptacles. It's a violation to toss litter from a vehicle, to throw litter in the water or to allow it to blow off truck. Garage sales, political advertisements, real estate signs and similar may not be attached to public utility poles.
The number of animals allowed varies depending on the zone and area of the property. No more than three dogs over the age of four months per dwelling unit, plus one additional service dog, may be kept on any Residentially or Agriculturally Zoned property within unincorporated Los Angeles County. Residential and Agricultural zones permit the keeping of livestock as pets or for personal use of members of a family residing on a lot having a minimum of 15,000 square feet of land per dwelling unit. One horse, donkey, mule, other equine, or cattle over nine months of age, or one sheep, goat, alpaca, or llama over six months of age may be kept for every 5,000 square feet. The keeping of other unusual and exotic animals may be permitted depending on the zone and lot size, and may require additional permits from Department of Regional Planning and the Los Angeles County Department of Animal Care & Control. Please consult with planning staff at the Field Offices or at the Land Development Coordinating Center to determine whether there are any restrictions that will apply to the type of animal you wish to maintain on your property.
On A-2 (Heavy Agricultural) zoned properties greater than five acres there is no limitation on the number of such animals that may be kept. The raising of poultry and other animals for food production is permitted on agricultural properties of one acre or more. Breeding, raising, and training of horses and other equine, cattle, sheep, goats, alpacas, and llamas is permitted in Agricultural Zones having an area of not less than one acre and provided that not more than eight such animals per acre be kept or maintained in conjunction with such use. Hogs and pigs, not to exceed two weaned hogs or pigs, may be kept on an agricultural property so long as they are located no less than 150 feet from a highway and no less than 50 feet from the rear or side lot lines. Please note that any buildings or structures used in connection with the keeping of animals must be located not less than 50 feet from any street or highway or any building used or designed for human habitation and may be subject to additional development standards.
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