Isle of Dogs
Director: Wes Anderson
Talent: Bryan Cranston, Edward Norton, Bill Murray, Jeff Goldblum, Kunichi Nomura, Greta Gerwig, Frances McDormand, Scarlett Johansson
Released: 30 March
Anderson’s second foray into full-blown stop-motion animation envisions a dystopian Japan where dogs from the fictional city of Megasaki have been exiled and quarantined on the rubbish-strewn Trash Island. This is due to an outbreak of “canine flu”. There a twelve year old boy called Atari, who is heir to the dog-hating mayor, goes looking for his beloved dog Spots, enlisting the help of a band of the island’s forsaken dogs.
First a confession: I’ve always been a bit agnostic about Anderson’s films. With each consecutive film, I’ve grown more weary of the characters’ affectless delivery. Inverted commas buzz around Anderson’s work like the flies on Trash Island. Whereas some of his earlier films did have moments of real tenderness, I’ve felt that of late he’s tried to sneak unearned sentiment through the back door. Frequently, I’ve found myself thinking ‘these unknowable characters are feeling emotions now’, rather than ‘I’m feeling their emotions with them.” There’s an airless quality to his most recent films that is a consequence of his mannered direction.
But even the unconverted can only marvel at the sheer scope of Anderson’s meticulous world-building. And, in many ways, Isle of Dogs boasts his most well realised world. He has cited Kurosawa as influencing his richly detailed compositions. Anderson’s flair for finely filigreed scenes is perfect for dystopian satire, new territory for him. It’s intriguing to find him bring new timely inflections to his work: beneath the whimsy, darker reflections on ethnic cleansing and migrancy can be found.
Happily, Anderson’s signature deadpanness also lends itself nicely to the world of dog interrelations. I found it much less irksome this time round. I really enjoyed many early silent scenes that are light on dialogue, and heavy on watching and sniffling. He lets the dogs be dogs, which is a relief, particularly when one thinks back to Mr. Fox’s irritating musings on existentialism. The dogs here reflect on nothing more highfalutin than what their favourite food was back when they had masters. A child might have a fighting chance of following this film.
Viewers, young and old, might even feel their emotions getting stirred too. In the search for Spots, a grudging relationship develops between Atari and Chief (Cranston), who was a stray back in Megasaki and doesn’t believe in having a master because it’s “against his principles”. “I bite,” Chief defiantly explains by way of introduction. The softening of Chief’s hard nosed distrust is actually quite affecting. After being left cold by many an Anderson film, it took the simple bond between a boy and a dog for him to emotionally resonate with me. I wish he’d risk keeping things simple a bit more often. If it wasn’t for the nascent relationship between Chief and Akira, this film might have been yet another exercise in arch remoteness.
Nevertheless, I’m sorry to say that the old Anderson fatigue kicked in during the final stretch. The film is just too encumbered with subplots, so there’s limited time afforded to the relationship that I really cared about. This might have been a consequence of the four script writers tussling it out to get their wishes met. But it’s always been Anderson’s way to pack his films with as many characters, subplots, flashbacks and droll asides as possible. Still, definitely worth a look. There’s so much to see here. A little too much.
Words – Rory Kiberd
