Wes Anderson is one of a handful of contemporary directors who has a highly individual film style that is unmistakable.
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Isle of Dogs is Anderson’s second foray into the world of stop motion animation (following Fantastic Mr Fox in 2009), which involves the labourious movement of puppet figures in the traditional manner of animation as opposed to 3D computer generated animated creations.
Isle of Dogs also sees Anderson delve into the stylised world of Japanese cinema, comics and anime.
In the near future in the Japanese metropolis Megasaki, Mayor Kobayashi, a cat lover, bans all dogs to Trash Island after an outbreak of snout fever. To show that he isn’t playing favourites, Kobayashi’s orphaned nephew Atari’s pet dog, Spots, is the first dog banished to the desolate island.
Atari’s subsequent journey to Trash Island, literally an island for discarded junk and animals, to rescue Spots is central to the episodic manner in which Anderson divides the film. Atari’s quest is suggestive of the wandering samurai on a quest in feudal Japan.
The film includes a number of related storylines that all vie for your attention.
There is a collective of alpha male dogs, named Chief, King, Rex, Boss and Duke, on Trash Island who appear to hold a collaborative knowledge about the island, its inhabitants and the truth or myths that abound about the island. They speak fluent English.
There is also the sinister behaviour of Kobayashi and his business interests that appear to be complicit in the mistreatment of the dog population.
Another storyline deals with an exchange student from the United States, Tracy, who becomes an activist in fighting Mayor Kobayashi’s anti-dog policy.
The Japanese students and adults speak Japanese while Tracy speaks English; Anderson, for the most part, does not provide subtitles, although at times he uses an animated Simul-Translate machine.
Initially, all those situations and characters have equal standing in the film. As the quest unravels, all these storylines merge into a cohesive whole.
The film moves in a methodical and even-handed manner with a decidedly low-key emotional engagement. This is in keeping with Anderson’s exploration of Japanese film influences.
Anderson is meticulous in the way he fills the screen with details about the characters, actions, locations, sounds and the ensemble of actors with whom he works.
Isles of Dogs’ visual qualities are splendid.
The film is beautiful to look at yet undercuts those visuals with ideas about displacement, incarceration of an unwanted species – in this case, dogs, who are metaphors for human dispossession – devious business and political personalities, and sinister plots to manipulate the populace.
Enjoy Anderson’s idiosyncratic and inventive film making but don’t forget to pay attention to the underlying messages.