There’s nothing raw or natural or bracing about Call of the Wild, trust me. It’s a synthetic heartwarmer from top to bottom. Mostly “set” in the Alaskan wilderness described long ago by Jack London, it’s a cloying, patronizing, family-friendly CG-dog movie shot on Los Angeles-area sound stages.
If there was ever a film destined to receive a 20%-or-lower rating from Rotten Tomatoes, this was it. And yet, believe it or not, it currently has a 65% on Rotten Tomatoes — technically a failing grade but at the same time too kind.
Out of 110 RT critics, roughly 70 gave it a pass. In some cases because they sensed that families and their kids will flock to Call of the Wild this weekend, and they don’t want to sound like grouchy grumps. Many of these wave-it-on-through types are whores and cowards — no balls, no honesty, not much of a soul.