Calder Stenn, Editor-in-Chief
“Who are we?” Atari, also referred to as “The Little Pilot,” asks a room of Japanese citizens. The question is ostensibly intended to rally a group of people in order to save the dying and oppressed canine population, but the real subject of the question — the “we” — is the room full of theatregoers.
This message resonates throughout the entirety of “Isle of Dogs,” making director Wes Anderson’s second stop-motion animation film his best one yet.
Set in a futuristic rendition of Japan, “Isle of Dogs” follows the story of an orphaned Japanese boy as he sets off to rescue his guard dog and best friend, Spots. Spots, along with the rest of the country’s canines, has been exiled to an island off of the Japanese coast following a decree of exile by Major Kobayashi (voiced by Kunichi Nomura).
While the film’s dog-oriented focus is one many audience members hold near and dear to them, there is clearly a metaphor beneath this that functions as a jab toward the U.S.’s current administration and the nation as a whole: the inherent wrongfulness in the deportation and exclusion of minorities.
Anderson explicitly conveys this through the concept of nativism. There is a strong emphasis on language barriers, specifically the distinction between “dog language” — also known as barking — and Japanese.
Anderson employs a stereotype of dogs by labeling them as disease-infested beings while all the humans are clean and healthy.
This appears tantamount to current generalizations and nativist discrimination surrounding immigration in the U.S. For example, many Latino/a immigrants don’t speak English, and there is constant stereotyping regarding the level of crime these people might bring to the U.S.
Similarly, it appears as though Anderson is trying to put the audience in immigrants’ — or in this case the dogs’ — shoes as hardly any of the Japanese is translated into English subtitles.
Anderson also does well to humanize the deported dogs, giving them articulate thoughts and dialogue while maintaining the default behaviors unique to their identity as house pets.
Interestingly enough, it is the dogs who Atari must ally with to complete his quest, and it is their friendship with him, the friendship between foreigner and native, that elevate them in the fight against Mayor Kobayashi’s corrupt rule.
This ability of native and foreigner, human and dog, to work together in fighting against an evil force illustrates the sense of unity Anderson is trying ignite between those who tend to be antagonistic towards each other.
In addition to the profound metaphor addressing immigration, Anderson also appeals to youth when he integrates a group of student protesters led by an American exchange student into the film’s central conflict. These protesters and their roles are reminiscent of the recent student protests against gun violence across the nation.
On the surface, “Isle of Dogs” provides us with a well-paced adventure with spot-on animation that isn’t too dazzling or too generic in its appearance on the big screen.
The humor is mostly consistent with Anderson’s style of nonchalant commentary, which leaves you either breaking out in laughter or simply chuckling at the timing of a clever joke — my mother clearly chose the former.
If you are a dog owner, this movie is a must-see — or if you are curious to see Bryan Cranston in dog-form. However, even beyond the humor and heartfelt emotion of the film, “Isle of Dogs” manages to provide necessary social commentary and effectively hits a nerve regarding our current immigration conflict.
Rating: 5 out of 5 stars (ruff, ruff)