Wes Anderson goes peak Wes Anderson in the exuberant and politically inclined Isle of Dogs
His doll house perfectionism and indulgences snuggles up to some timely political themes
Wes Anderson films are always going to look like Wes Anderson films. The precise framing, the specific colour palettes, the out of time, too hip to be from any kind of reality aesthetic, the whimsical tales dealing with family and love, Bill Murray. It’s a perfectly designed piece — like a clock dressed in a tweed jacket. Each part complementing the other to the most minute detail. It’s almost a genre unto itself. It may feel repetitive at times but Anderson always finds a way to build an intriguing world of fantasy. Purely and completely contained within the frame of a movie. It cannot exist outside.
Sometimes you might get the feeling that you’re not quite in on the joke. it’s can get decidedly narrow and a tad indulgent. Dialogue is deadpan to a comical degree. A twee kind of moroseness lingers like that strange smell you get from that one guy you know who’s always talking about a band you’ve never heard of in a genre you’re sure he just made up. Instead of characters they become caricatures. Props simple to pose while Anderson obsesses over the fabric of a curtain in a background window, or whatever vinyl’s playing on the record player in the next room.
In his new film, Isle of Dogs, all of this is present and accounted for. But like his oeuvre, what elevates the film above the swirl of pretentiousness is a fantastically constructed script and world, and a cast that effortlessly brings it to life. For the first time since 2009’s Fantastic Mr. Fox, Anderson returns to stop motion animation. A technique that suits his style and sensibilities in a way that live action simply can’t scratch. This time however, there’s a more overtly political element that shades the action — one that is practically non-existent in the rest of his work but has now popped up in this and his previous film, Grand Budapest Hotel. In Isle of Dogs, it comes across more overtly, a driver of plot and character instead of the background rumblings that intruded every now and again in Grand Budapest Hotel.
In addition to the political puppy pulperry this is also one of Anderson’s most densely packed narrative. Plenty of moving parts and threads that at times become unwieldy, lost in a ball of expertly crafted smoke. It moves at such a breathless pace though that it manages to flatten out any crinkles in the narrative. A stylishly crafted sleight of hand. Set twenty years into the future, the action jumps back and forth between Trash Island where all of man’s best friends have been dumped due to a widespread disease that has struck the dogs, and the Japanese metropolis of Megasaki, where everyone is basically being brainwashed to not like dogs: which is the worst thing anyone can do to anybody when it comes to dogs.
How can you anything but love these adorable creatures!
Sides are taken when a 12 year old boy crash lands on the island to find his dog, Spots. From here conspiracies are unleashed, secrets unveiled, romance (kinda) blossoming, flashbacks and running gags aplenty, and a few heartwarming moments thrown in because they’re dogs, and one can’t help but have their heart warned by them.
The film speaks of devotion — how it can be a boon and a destructive force. The dogs unwavering commitment is what saves them, coming from a place of genuine love and care. While the fanaticism that takes over the people of Megasaki from all the fear mongering done by tyrannical mayor Kobayashi, shows the dark path blind devotion can lead people down. A force that threatens to destroy the dogs for good. It comes down to how open your eyes are, how willing you are to see the truth in the light of day, even if it may be harsh, and to bravely stand up for decency and acceptance. To do your duty as a citizen — be it of the two or four legged kind. Maybe it’s the times we live in that makes even Isle of Dogs shine a spotlight totalitarianism regime and false persecution of minorities. Can’t we have one damn diversion that isn’t hampered by the chaotic mess of politics of our time! We’re at a stage where extremes is so obvious that any rational thinking person would be able to call it out from a dozen miles away.
All this seriousness is crafted in such an adorable way though. From the design of the scruffy dogs and the superb production design of both trash island and the Megasaki to the voice acting that’s like a soothing refreshing balm to the soul’s skin, it’s a wondrously enjoyable romp. It’s filled with all kinds of sweet delights crammed in on the margins or in the background. No frame is left unheeded. Anderson makes use of every moment he’s got to build this world that wouldn’t feel out place next to Moonrise Kingdom, The Royal Tenenbaums, The Grand Budapest Hotel or Fantastic Mr. Fox. That theme of devotion is a calling card for Anderson’s work. The way he creates and writes, an unerring determination and commitment to his vision. It may waver every now and then, but it never strays from the path. Good boy, Wes, good boy.
