Say what you will about Mark Wahlberg, he’s always been a Swiss army knife for Hollywood, one of a mighty few in the industry. A lead whose work ethic remains infectious, he’s wounded only by the material he’s handed, and lends his name toward, often advising in the producer’s chair. No actor is ever immune from an inevitable dud, nor a slump. For him, a moderate one at that, taking on the mediocre likes of Uncharted, Father Stu, and late last year, Apple’s overly conventional The Family Plan. The latter’s director, Simon Cellan Jones, has always been quick to see Marky Mark’s sharpness toward a project, in a creative partnership lasting nine years. No surprise they’d be quick to work again after their first direct experience between either side of the camera, a much slower, less chaotic, trepidatiously cliched and yet still primarily enthralling drama. 

Arthur the King is just that film, a project whose release stayed in limbo amid Lionsgate’s eOne acquisition. And whose development exchanged many more hands before its script – an adaptation by Chicago Fire/PD/Med staff writer Michael Brandt of a popular nonfiction page-turner – landed with Wahlberg and Jones. We see the former assume the part of Michael Light, an Americanized version of real-life adventurist athlete Mikael Lindnord, taking many honors for the sport in his native Sweden. Over two decades, Michael/Mikael had made great strides for his limit-pushing pastime, but one of them had never once won. 

His last defeat in 2015 led to public shaming – no thanks to his oversharing teammate Leo (Simu Liu), and the loss of sponsorships and prospects. Fast forward to 2018, he’s settled for working dad status to keep his own pops (Paul Guilfoyle), his race-retired wife Helen (Juliet Rylance), and their daughter Ruby (Cece Valentina) happy. But he’s not, he’s itching for more, that scorn has left him hungry for a second opportunity. With enough nudging from the missus, and capital to raise, Michael sets for the Dominican Republic, recruiting the cocky Leo, climbing prodigy Olivia (Nathalie Emmanuel), and navigation expert Chik (Ali Suliman) for a four-person squad to run, jump, scale, swim, and kayak across a 435-mile perimeter.  

Through that, they brave the elements, challenge each other’s egos and obsessions (thankfully never all at once), and entrust the allyship of a wounded yet valiant stray named Arthur (Ukai), who might not be a considerable king in the governing sense. But his survey of the treacherous jungles and scenic trails makes him quite the guiding captain, and a reliable partner for Michael, their joined quests for purpose in noble sync. 

Jones warmly wraps himself around this symbiotic bond between two souls who find themselves down but unwilling to take themselves out without one last chance for a victory. Both Wahlberg and Ukai are wonderfully eye to eye with each other, the former still comfortable in a minute win for his string of “caring dad with baggage” characters. It’s quite easily the strongest we’ve seen of him in a while; not since Instant Family has he been this willing to relax, strengthen up, and invoke unbridled empathy toward insurmountable exigence.  

Both Liu and Emmanuel’s personalities, and their characters’ unique struggles, make quick work to beef up his stern but supportive sense of adaptability. Suliman’s part in proceedings, meanwhile, is no less than solely mechanical for the plot. Same for a conforming hotshot bully (Rob Collins) from the rival enemy team, and Rylance playing the stoic wife who only supports her hubby’s pursuits, knowing she once shared that racer’s spirit before settling down. The way she can read the determination in Wahlberg’s mind is almost refreshing. Not even Guilfoyle, who’s only around once to warn him about a realistic future, can compete. One would still imagine a bit more drama between the two, and it would add more genuine stakes besides merely surviving this perimeter. 

The film itself is already a hurdle that otherwise breezes by. And half the time it’s quite convincing and rousing. Jones has plenty of fun elevating an above-vanilla tale of athletic discipline with raw intuition to the level of Cliffhanger, Point Break, or 1994’s Lassie. And through his sharp eyes, smoothes out the apparent use of off-screen wizardry – namely DP Jacques Jouffret’s (Gran Turismo) upfront framing, and sporadic, unpolished CG to heighten Arthur’s range of emotion. Half the time, it’s quite the adventure, adequate by way of charisma. The other half negates that forward momentum by relying so heavily on a cliched suspension of disbelief, it turns needlessly polarizing, devolving into a series of simple expressions and gestures.  

Despite the dog showing more stamina than this true story he’s embodied in, his presence is often an afterthought, not able to slide into frame more eloquently or less disruptively. Introducing him takes the viewer out of what was already a rush job on the humans’ equation, with Jones spending 20 minutes to arrange all its pieces before the race begins – complete with the eerie, disembodied voice of Bear Grylls serving as an unreliable video game announcer-type. This back and forth see-saw between adventurous and unnatural sours the pace of events. Just as this massive cardio workout goes into focus, external influences shove their way in to alter course. And from there, a back and forth see-saw pattern forms, shifting constantly from adventurous to unnatural, the latter representing Michael and Arthur’s bond with full ardor, but not so much conviction in the same amount. Whatever thrills are felt, it’s solely with the team, hardly with an individual. 

Any manner of dramatization on Brandt’s behalf only slips further from the source material, over-adapting to make said link more engaging. In turn, I was left overthinking about whether Jones could properly seal the deal on this extreme sport footnote and convince the viewer this friendship is as genuine as other “man meets dog in the wider world” stories. Were it not for Wahlberg delivering on his end of the bargain, this journey might’ve been tougher to follow. Empathically speaking, it satisfies enough criteria to entertain families, and those devoted dog owners who will always rally for a hero with experience. Often by force of habit. 

Structurally though, the way its director tries to navigate and fuse these events together leaves them all trite, shallow, and barely fulfilling. Any time a true story like that of Arthur the King is toyed around for film to this extreme, it rarely goes well. And even if Jones, or Brandt for that matter, did not cheat around what really happened, it might not have changed the odds much. Be it for its charisma, or its cuteness, it’s recommendable. Only because its feelings stumble short it will not be full paws up. (C-; 2.5/5) 

Arthur the King opens in theaters March 15, previews begin 3PM March 14; rated PG-13 for some strong language; 107 minutes.