"Isle of Dogs"

By Matt Duncan
Coastal View News

Wes Anderson’s “Isle of Dogs” is based on a legend. Or, I guess, that there is such a legend is probably itself a legend. But, regardless, the story is that, in ancient Japan, two factions—the cat people and the dog people—were at war. The cat people were being mean, maybe just because they hated dogs. But then a child hero decapitated the cat people’s leader and, thus, saved the day for the dogs.

Now present day. The cat and dog people are still fighting like, well, you know what. Only now the battle is more subtle. Instead of an all-out samurai melee, the very evolved, very noble cat-loving leaders of Megasaki City are taking it to their canine counterparts through misinformation, political maneuvering, ad campaigns, and fear tactics.

The truth is: There is an outbreak of dog flu among the dog population. The pups are in a bad way. But Mayor Kobayashi (Kunichi Nomura), rather than pushing for treatment, or a cure, or rather even than expressing politician-brand sympathy (of the Grade A sanctimonious sort), instead, exploits this sad state of affairs to justify shipping all of the dogs in Megasaki City to Trash Island (which is exactly what it sounds like).

This includes Rex (Edward Norton), who is thoughtful and bossy; Boss (Bill Murray), who isn’t bossy at all; Duke (Jeff Goldblum), who isn’t nearly as tough as his name suggests; and Chief (Bryan Cranston), who is tougher than all of the others combined (he was, after all, a stray).

Evidently some of the humans of Megasaki City are all right with their pets being banished to an island full of garbage. But not everyone. Atari (Koyu Rankin), for example, isn’t having it. Atari is the distant nephew and ward of Mayor Kobayashi. So he’s important. But his dog, Spots (Live Schreiber), was sent to Trash Island, and Atari wants his pal back.

So Atari commandeers a small aircraft and heads for Trash/Dog Island. Things don’t go quite according to plan, though. And Atari makes all sorts of waves he didn’t intend to make. Atari just wants his dog back. Kobayashi, on the other hand, wants his nephew back. But he still hates dogs. Meanwhile, a growing pro-dog resistance simmers to a boil back in Megasaki City.

“Isle of Dogs” is dry. And methodical. Even slow. But it is also witty, charming, and funny. It elicits the kind of quiet chuckle that attests to amusement beyond its decibel level.

Part of this movie’s charm is its quirkiness. Consider, for example, that one of the main characters—Atari—only speaks Japanese, and his lines aren’t subtitled. So us non-Japanese speakers don’t know what he’s saying. We are left to guess, or clumsily infer, what’s up with Atari—maybe something like we do for dogs, or they do for us, but also like what we do for each other to varying extents.

There’s all sorts of nice metaphor here and throughout the movie. But the metaphor is subtle, artful, and subdued—it doesn’t distract from the story or come off as some ham-handed political commentary.

Director Wes Anderson is well known for his visual aesthetics. But there’s also quite a bit more to his work than meets the eye. He manages, in this movie as in others, to make a movie that is beautiful, fun to watch, and also thought-provoking.

Like I said, “Isle of Dogs” is dry. And slow. But it’s also primetime Wes Anderson—quirky in all the right ways and rewarding to watch and think about.