Alright, fellow tape travelers, grab your rewind buttons and settle in. Today, we're digging into a box that feels slightly dusty, maybe smells faintly of popcorn butter, and contains a film that perfectly embodies that early 80s cinematic spirit of "Hey, let's just try this!" I'm talking about the delightfully strange, utterly unique 1980 offering, Oh! Heavenly Dog. Forget gritty realism for a moment; we're diving headfirst into a high-concept cocktail of detective noir, supernatural fantasy, and... adorable canine antics.

The setup alone is pure gold, the kind of thing you’d only really get away with in this era. Private investigator Benjamin Browning, played with trademark smirky detachment by Chevy Chase (then riding high off Saturday Night Live and Foul Play), stumbles onto a murky case involving a beautiful woman (Jane Seymour) and a suspicious death. Before he can crack it wide open, though, Browning himself ends up murdered. But wait! Upstairs, the celestial bureaucracy decides he hasn't earned his wings (or harp, or whatever) just yet. He's sent back to Earth, reincarnated into the furry body of a stray dog – specifically, the world-famous canine star Benji – to solve his own murder. Yes, you read that right. It’s Heaven Can Wait meets Turner & Hooch, five years before Tom Hanks met his slobbery partner.
Let’s be honest, the main draw here isn't necessarily Chase himself, who spends most of the film providing voice-over narration as the dog. While his deadpan delivery provides some chuckles, the real heavy lifting falls on the incredibly talented paws of Benji (likely one of the dogs trained by the legendary Frank Inn, carrying on the legacy of the original Higgins). Director Joe Camp, the man who basically created the Benji phenomenon with his low-budget 1974 smash hit Benji, knew exactly how to capture the soulful eyes and seemingly intentional actions of his canine star. It’s a testament to the training and filmmaking that you absolutely buy this dog is on a mission. Remember how convincing those reaction shots felt back then? No CGI trickery here, just clever editing, patience, and undoubtedly countless takes (and dog treats). It's a reminder of the practical magic filmmaking could achieve.
Filming primarily on location in London and Paris added a touch of class and visual interest, a far cry from the usual backlots. Though reportedly budgeted around $6 million, Oh! Heavenly Dog sadly didn't light the box office on fire, barely recouping its costs. Critics at the time weren't particularly kind either, perhaps baffled by the genre mashup. It found its second life, like so many quirky films, on home video and television airings, becoming one of those movies you stumbled upon late at night or picked up purely based on the goofy cover art at the rental store. I distinctly remember renting this one, probably attracted by Chase and the promise of a talking dog, and being completely charmed by its sheer weirdness.
Jane Seymour, fresh off her Bond girl turn in Live and Let Die (1973) and before hitting TV megastardom with Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman, brings warmth and classic leading lady appeal as the journalist entangled in the mystery. There's even a small but notable role for the legendary Omar Sharif as a shadowy figure. But the film truly belongs to Benji and Chase's disembodied voice trying to guide his furry new form through the investigation.
The blend of genres is... well, it’s something. One minute it's a slightly shadowy mystery, the next it's broad physical comedy as Dog-Browning tries to communicate, then it dips into surprisingly earnest sentimentality. Does it always work? Not entirely. The pacing can feel a bit languid, and the central conceit wears a little thin over the runtime. Some of the humor feels distinctly of its time, relying on Chase's somewhat aloof persona even when filtered through a fluffy mutt. Yet, there's an undeniable heart to it, largely thanks to Benji's inherent appeal and Camp's gentle direction. It avoids being overly cynical, embracing the fantasy wholeheartedly.
You watch it now, perhaps on a less-than-pristine transfer that evokes that fuzzy VHS feel, and you can appreciate the ambition, even if the execution is occasionally clumsy. It’s a film that wouldn’t get made today, at least not without a hefty dose of irony or a complete digital overhaul of the dog. Part of its charm is its slight awkwardness, its earnest belief in its outlandish premise.
Justification: Oh! Heavenly Dog earns a solid 6 for its sheer nostalgic charm, the undeniable star power of Benji, and its uniquely bizarre premise that screams "early 80s high concept." While Chevy Chase's voice work is fine and Jane Seymour adds grace, the film is undeniably carried by its canine lead and the earnest direction of Joe Camp. It’s flawed, yes – the pacing drags, and the tone wobbles – but its gentle spirit, practical dog-acting magic, and time-capsule quality make it a fondly remembered oddity worth revisiting, even if just for a nostalgic chuckle.
Final Thought: Forget digital pets; this is peak analog animal reincarnation, a reminder that sometimes the weirdest ideas made for the most memorable VHS rentals.