January 13, 2005 - Many people are already taking pot shots at poor Racing Stripes.

Truth be told, it's an easy movie to malign. Its structure and outcome are invariably predictable. Its identity is as uncertain as the species-confused Zebra around whom the film revolves. The movie's promotional campaign implies consistent slapstick jubulence, yet audiences may be surprised by the subtext of restless angst running beneath the surface of the film.

For all of these imperfections and inconsistencies, Racing Stripes abides. Driven by Frederik Du Chau's crisp direction, cinematography by David Eggby (Pitch Black), and composer Mark Isham's ethnically tainted, heavily melodic score, RS rarely seems content to be any one kind of film. Which makes it more interesting than it may otherwise have been, and more diffuse than it needed to be.

A freakish crossbread of The Black Stallion, Babe, and more obnoxious Disney projects than can be recalled, Racing Stipes systematically harnesses its headier themes (struggles with self-awareness/self-acceptance, grappling with prejudice, etc.) within the comforting confines of family-friendly dopeyness, courtesy of animal and insect archetypes voiced by Steve Harvey, David Spade, Snoop Dogg, Whooppi Gldberg, Dustin Hoffman, Joe Pantoliano, Jeff Foxworthy, and Frankie Muniz. When intermixed with surprisingly earnest performances by human leads Bruce Greenwood, Hayden Panettiere, and M. Emmet Walsh, the results are sometimes pleasant, frequently awkward, usually forced, but agreeably reassuring.

With so much doubt and uncertainty in the world, it's refreshing to find a film whose greatest aspiration is to challenge its characters (and, by default, its audience) to throw aside fear, and be true to themselves through the pursuit of dreams – no matter how absurd doing so may seem. No matter how imporbable the outcome may be.

	IGN FilmForce staff members discuss upcoming feature articles.

In the end, Racing Stripes simply settles. It is a sweet, heartfelt, and sometimes clever film whose reticence to maintain a consistent tone automatically condemns it to life as a scattershot novelty. It's not the stuff of classics, but it's fun enough while it lasts.

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