Isle of Dogs movie review.

Few directors are as idiosyncratic as Wes Anderson. Warts and all, his signature style is unmistakable, crafting obsessively layered films both in craft and in concept, with the likes of The Royal Tenenbaums, The Grand Budapest Hotel, and Moonrise Kingdom standing out as some of his finest highlights. Given what a hands on filmmaker he is, it certainly made sense for him to venture into stop-motion, previously adapting Roald Dahl's Fantastic Mr. Fox to the screen in 2009.

It's been far too long since his last feature, and now he returns again to stop-motion with Isle of Dogs. Any animal lover would likely be put off by that very premise, given the grisly fates that animals and pets in his films usually meet, which is only one area where Anderson has proven himself a distinctly macabre visionary. But even if it's likely to test your sensitivity, Isle of Dogs certainly proves no less an outstanding effort from the prolific filmmaker.

20 years in the future, an outbreak of Dog flu and Snout Fever has led Mayor Kobayashi of Megasaki (Kunichi Nomura) to place an emergency ban on dogs, who've been deported to a nearby trash island. His dog Spots (Liev Schreiber) being the first dog deported, the Mayor's ward Atari (Koyu Rankin) hijacks a plane and travels to the isle, teaming up with a gang of Alphas (Bryan Cranston's Chief, Edward Norton's Rex, Bill Murray's Boss, Jeff Goldblum's Duke, and Bob Balaban's King) to find his lost pet, all the while a pro-dog protest faction (featuring Greta Gerwig's Tracy) rally against the ban, and a possible conspiracy to bury the cure.

It's certainly no surprise to see Anderson take such a shine to stop-motion. He's always had a very hands-on, hand-crafted touch to all of his films, with a particular fondness for miniatures and models to act as the basis for his sets. From using stop-motion figures in the Life Aquatic, to The Grand Budapest Hotel making extensive use of models and matte paintings, a signature touch that isn't lost on Isle of Dogs.

And like or dislike Isle of Dogs, that's likely to be the greatest takeaway is its immaculate technical eye. Everything in the film has the distinct look of a handmade build, like Anderson has fetched all of these materials from a workshed and piled them into one product. Outside of the expressive and absolutely breathtaking character designs, including those majestic dog figures with their gorgeous and obsessively scrutinized fur, scarring, and mange, the animators have gone to such lengths to get the most out of their imagery. The world and stop-motion as perceived by Anderson has such an intentionally choppy quality to it, making extensive use of cotton and wool, fluorescent lights, felt, fiberglass and cellophane, and some breathtaking matte painting design. I don't think a frame of CGI even exists in this movie, and the only animation we see outside of stop-motion is hand-drawn, but very unpolished and intentionally messy at that.

That gives this very crisp and nostalgic quality to watching the film, almost akin to the novelty of listening to vinyl over CD, and welcoming the crackles over the polish. And being such a visual marvel, this really gives Anderson a chance to stretch his visual sense of storytelling and expressive personality. That said, it's also a style that welcomes Anderson's "style over substance" critics to line up. But like The Grand Budapest Hotel before it, to stop at the surface value would really be doing a disservice to his screenwriting.

I think it's clear that despite his macabre habit of offing dogs, it's nice to see Anderson focus so intently on them, and especially what makes them such lovable animals. Early on, all of the dogs are deported to this trash island, and in the months since have developed into these complicated societies with their own beating heart, that's very reminiscent of the complicated set of societies of their human counterparts. So it's very charming to see Anderson directly tie that human logic into the dogs, but also have a lot of fun with the eccentricities of them in very different ways. For example, Scarlett Johansson plays a former showdog, and she has a funny recurring gag involving her miming doing dangerous stunts, while Tilda Swinton voices a Pug named Oracle, that everyone credits as this genius seer and fortune teller, but it turns out that her fortunes are all secondhand from what she watches on television. Touches like that are where the film strikes that perfect balance between irreverence and sincerity, and give it this infectious life as it brings this eclectic group to life.

But in addition to the quirks of canine companions, the film also does well in portraying the nastier feelings of abandonment in dogs. We see dogs as these loyal friends, but so often we see examples of abuse and neglect, of people who completely forget what soulful creatures they are, and how much that damages dogs on both a physical and psychological level. The film certainly doesn't beat around the bush in that regard, showing further intricacies in the complicated love/hate relationship with their owners. While Ed Norton's Rex is described as sleeping on a wool bed next to a space heater, Bryan Cranston's Chief has always been a stray no one wanted, with a lack of mutual compassion and love that has led him to become an easily agitated aggressor, the character's writing in collaboration with Cranston's stellar voice work making him the standout of the cast. But that's not to undersell the other fabulous performers, from Anderson faithfuls - like Ed Norton, Jeff Goldblum, Bill Murray, Harvey Keitel, and Bob Balaban, to the newcomers - including Liev Schreiber, Greta Gerwig, and Scarlett Johansson among others.

That's not to say that Isle of Dogs is controversy free. Despite being a largely Japanese based story, there is a very Americanized sense of cultural appropriation. An early title card sets up that much of the Japanese dialogue will be given English translation (largely provided by Frances McDormand's interpreter), barks have been translated to English, all the while Courtney B. Vance provides sparse narration snippets. On top of that, the movie threatens to fall into white savior territory with the introduction of Greta Gerwig's Tracy becoming so prominent, and with all of this in play, it could have become so easy for the film to unravel in stereotypes.

But while the seeds are certainly there, I don't think they actually form into anything truly offensive. Heavy the interpretation may be, I think Anderson has found a great middle ground between the two. The Americanization never feels like its smothering or downplaying the Japanese culture on display. It may have enabled it to be an easier pill to swallow for more casual viewers, but that sense of interwoven sides of one coin coming together still shows a fondness and great respect to the setting and its mythology, right down to Alexandre Desplat's taiko heavy soundtrack. Even Tracy isn't the typical white savior she could have been, nor is she the only one that saves the day. She's just an idealistic (to a fault) character who happened to pick that side, and with every role, Greta Gerwig continues to become one of my favorite working actresses.

That said, regardless of whatever issues are at hand, I still say it, you have to see Isle of Dogs. If only to marvel at the visual imagination in every painting-like frame, the spectacle on display is just too good to pass up. But more importantly, for those willing to dig deeper to its core, there's a lot of rewarding food for thought present in the film. Films like Rushmore and The Royal Tenenbaums may have been where Anderson made his name, but for my money, it's his later efforts like The Grand Budapest Hotel and Moonrise Kingdom where he solidified himself as an auteur, and Isle of Dogs is yet another glistening jewel on his belt.


****1/2 / *****