Isle of Dogs and the Role of the "Dog" Movie

**Note: This post contains potential spoilers of movies that are several years old. If you are the kind of person who cares about spoilers of even old media, be warned. If you are the kind of person who realizes that spoilers don’t necessarily ruin the enjoyment of older pieces of media because you can appreciate stories for what they are, then thanks for being a normal human.**

I am comfortable enough to admit that I often cry in movies, plays, or even from a touching song, but there is one movie that stands out as easily the hardest I’ve ever cried: The Secret Life of Pets. The movie isn’t necessarily great. The reviews at time times suggested the consensus of the movie was that it was a somewhat fun/funny forgettable film lacking the depth/emotional of better animated movies. And I cried. A lot. I cried so much that the mother of three in the row in front of me fully turned around to make disapproving eye contact with me twice in the movie. The movie was about a small dog being lost in New York that I saw one week before I took the bar exam and about a month before I moved to New York City with my small dog who had never lived here before. Daggers to the heart.

The second most I ever cried in a movie was in I Am Legend when Will Smith is forced to kill his infected dog as he sings “Three Little Birds” by Bob Marley to her. “Three Little Birds” is a beautiful song in both melody and meaning, and I was a senior in high school faced with the fact I often tried to avoid that my childhood dogs were getting older and older. I cried so hard that I haven’t watched the movie again since. All I remember is crying and also Will Smith doing pull ups. There’s probably some things to unpack there, but this review is about dogs.

 That’s what it all boils down to for me. There is something about a dog movie. Even what a dog movie is can be a rather broad question, but at its heart and as its title suggest, Isle of Dogs is a dog movie. Before offering my thoughts on Isle of Dogs, or at least my thought on my takeaway from the movie, I want to really dive into the American view of the dog movie.

There is nary a person I know who doesn’t know the ending to Old Yeller. I haven’t seen the movie and I know it’s one of the most tragic events of cinematic history. Similarly, I’ve never watched Lassie but I know the incredibly campy boy talking to his dog to save someone down a well. Why are there so many damn wells? Why are people always walking precariously close to them? I don’t know. But I know Lassie. What about Homeward Bound? A harrowing journey of two dogs and a cat who travel cross country just to find their owner. When the final dog runs over the hill, you’d have to be dead inside not to shed a tear. Or just dead. Dead men shed no tears—probably a line from a pretty bad fantasy movie.

This isn’t to say dog movies are without fault. Air Bud is a movie that makes me feel more sympathy for the kids on the team who get beat in basketball by a golden retriever than sympathy for the dog. I was often picked last at recess—I was definitely on the metaphorical loses-to-dog teams in my youth. Marley and Me is an emotionally manipulative pile of crap. I haven’t read the book, but the movie is designed to make you cry. Perhaps the biggest offender, so much so that I didn’t see it, is A Dog’s Purpose whose trailer was so cloyingly sweet and an over the top appeal to emotion that I had to listen to only death metal for weeks. Banner had similar thoughts.

These exceptions noted, I think Americans love dog movies. Americans love dogs. I’ve only ever met one person I did not detest who didn’t like dogs. He is incredibly allergic to them and it is admittedly a major character flaw of his. He really has to put in good effort to be a redeemable human. Dogs are good.

This is why Isle of Dogs inherently works. Some discussed the inherent Wes Andersonisms in the beautiful Wes Anderson film. Some wrote about the incredibly strong voice actors who voice the dogs. There has even been some criticism at the film for cultural appropriation and a “white savior” character. Some say that Wes Anderson actually put a lot in for native Japanese people and got a lot right about Japan. Some say it’s complicated.

A lot of people have written about the film in depth, analyzing it in ways that bring up good points about the film’s place both in cinema and a larger cultural conversation. That’s fine and worthy and good. The film is also boiled down to something much more tender, much more human. This is a story about the bond between a boy and his dog.

Japan is the nation of Hachiko—the famous dog who waited for his owner for 9 years following his owner dying at work and not taking the train back. It is a tale that embodies all we believe about dogs, and Isle of Dogs shows that spirit in the young protagonist, Atari. Atari goes to the appropriately named Trash Island to try and get back his dog after a city wide quarantine. As one of the dogs in the film notes, he is the only person to do anything. It is the power of connection between the boy and his dog—a bond that started with the dog being a guard dog following an accident.

There isn’t a gendered element to this. A boy and his dog could be a girl and her dog. It is the unwavering bond between animal and human, between pet and master that is both explained by and yet defies science. There is no such thing as a best dog. My best dog is my dog, and your best dog is your dog. Cuteness, just how loveable a dog is, and any other qualities we hold to be paramount to a dog’s worth is a subjective measure. That is what makes it so good.

A line from the film that was featured in trailers is the simple rationale for why the dogs should help Atari: “[h]e is a twelve-year-old boy. Dogs love those.” It is the same love that owner gives dog; dog gives owner. Unconditional for nothing more than what they are and nothing less than extraordinary. It is the purest love because it asks not for more.

So was Isle of Dogs a film without flaws? Maybe not. I leave you to the reviews above for more hard hitting analysis or thorough critiques on whether or not the movie was one of Wes Anderson’s best. I simply leave with this thought. I left Isle of Dogs wanting to be able to communicate with my dog—not in the way it is done in Up for the sweet but funny moments—I left Isle of Dogs wanting to communicate with my dog so I can tell him just how much he truly means to me. And he would say the same.