Full Review of Isle of Dogs by Lydia Linker

Isle of Dogs Review by Lydia Linker from ABZ Sangha viewing on Saturday October 19, 2019

Isle of Dogs (2018) is the second animated feature film from writer/director Wes Anderson (Rushmore, The Royal Tenenbaums, Moonrise Kingdom, The Grand Budapest Hotel) and was nominated for an Academy Award. Although Isle of Dogs received high ratings and critical acclaim, it also received controversial criticism, which was reflected in our sangha discussion after the viewing.

In the tradition of Japanese epics such as Akira Kurosawa’s Ran, Roshomon, and Seven Samurai, Isle of Dogs references traditional Japanese folklore as well as Hamlet-esque characters set in a dystopian future. The plot arc follows the journey of a young boy, Atari, a group of exiled dogs, and a faction of rebel college students rising up against Atari’s uncle, Mayor Kenji, who decrees that all dogs are dirty, sick, and must be banished to an island made of trash. The pro-dog faction, which includes Atari and his band of dogs on the Isle of Dogs, along with the science community, begin to metaphorically hold a mirror up to Mayor Kenji. Will these methods change Mayor Kenji’s mind and perspective? How many appeals will touch Mayor Kenji’s heart? In the end we are given a traditional Japanese and poetic resolution. Atari recites his haiku against a backdrop of cherry blossoms falling.

As stated at the beginning of the film in the opening credits, each actor speaks in their own native tongue: the actors playing Atari and his uncle speak in their native Japanese; the American actors playing the dogs speak in English; and a scientist played by Yoko Ono, speaks both Japanese and English. The film is not subtitled, and with a majority English-speaking cast, film critics and some from the sangha felt the intended audience was only an American audience rather than a broader global audience, or at least a bicultural one. With an American writer/director, the appropriation of Japanese culture and tropes felt disrespectful presented in this way.

For me, as a Japanese-American who never learned the Japanese language, I saw Isle of Dogs as an homage to Kurosawa. I felt Anderson was respectful in his version of Seven Samurai, using dogs and humans as samurai and shoguns. The imagery of cherry blossoms and Atari’s haiku were key elements to transition from hate to compassion and war to healing, as is found in traditional Japanese storytelling. I felt what some critics called over-the-top Japanese, parody of Japanese culture, or unnecessary to the story are just instances of not understanding the full style and elements needed to honor this type of storytelling. I am not an expert on Japanese folklore or structure, but I have noticed these styles and elements pervasive throughout Japanese literature. Anderson has skillfully incorporated all these elements, even the ones difficult for us as Americans to understand, and has also added a modern tension of pointing at how American culture appropriates Japanese (eating sushi out of bento boxes), and how Japanese culture appropriates American (American college student studying in Japan sporting a blonde afro and Harajuku Hip Hop style). As I watch Anderson push American and Japanese culture up against each other in Isle of Dogs, I wonder if we, as American Zen practitioners, can notice how we use Japanese language in our chanting and Japanese culture in our forms. I know my intention is to honor the spirit of the chants. I want to give voice to the chants and be the conduit for their actualization, as I have been instructed on how to chant. I know the forms are a way for us to embody the practice and a way for us to move in harmony with each other. My hope is that as I perform these forms and ceremonies traditionally found in Japan, that I am honoring their spirit here in the United States. Perhaps as we hold these forms, ceremonies, traditions, and cultures with respect and compassion we can also hold each other with respect and compassion, no matter where we come from or what we try to convey.