Why would you remake Straw Dogs? The question enticed me to the local multiplex last weekend. After all, the television advertising campaign for Rod Lurie’s (The Contender) latest film didn’t reveal much about the style and plot, but my fascination with Sam Peckinpah’s original version prompted me to see how such a morally complicated movie could be improved upon nearly 40 years later. Quick answer: It can’t. At least not by Lurie, a script that unabashedly lifts 90 percent from the original, and a cast either too ill-equipped or poorly directed to bring much more than “stand there, say that” chops. James Woods reprises his one-dimensional Southern racist redneck prone to violence role from Ghosts of Mississippi, James Marsden and Kate Bosworth look as if they’ve stepped out of a Vanity Fair photo shoot, the great Walton Goggins (TV’s Justified and The Shield) is totally wasted, and Alexander Skarsgard ping pongs between country-fried wholesomeness and really handsome rapist. The Monkee’s “Going Down” is used for Tarantino effect to show how “cool” the Jaguar XJ-driving protagonists – who know all the lyrics, natch – are, but zydeco and Southern rock (Lynard Skynard? Check. Molly Hatchet? Check.) are the indigenous musical flavors











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