I am planning to do a retrospective of Wes Anderson’s career in the next few months, which will entail, amongst other things, doing a ranking of his films, looking at them in comparison to each other and noting his highest points. Anderson is a filmmaker that has, in my view, never made a bad film, which would make a definitive ranking of his work difficult, but something needs to come out at the bottom, and while some of his films are weaker than others, there are none that are actually bad. However, his most recent film, Isle of Dogs, while certainly not his worst film, is not his best either, and while it is exactly what we’d expect from a Wes Anderson film, it is ultimately not his strongest film. I absolutely adore Anderson, and I find him to be one of the most profoundly fascinating American filmmakers working today, but with Isle of Dogs, he has confirmed a suspicion many of us have had, and one that I have been in vehement denial about for a while: Wes Anderson is starting to become a parody of himself. Through flawed execution, a worrying approach to a story that was rather the subject of unfortunate oversight rather than any intentional derision, and an attempt to convey a particular culture without understanding the complexities, Isle of Dogs is not Wes Anderson’s finest hour, and as much as I was so enthusiastic about this film, following it from conception to completion, I have to tragically state that I am, for the first time, disappointed in a film by Wes Anderson. Despite being one of Anderson’s most well-made films, it has insurmountable narrative and cultural obstacles that it fails to overcome, and the result is a film that cannot meet the impossibly high standards Anderson has set for himself.

Isle of Dogs is set in a futuristic version of Japan in the city of Megasaki, where dogs have been exiled to a derelict, decomposing mound of land with the alluring name of Trash Island. This is due to some long-standing hatred towards the animals on the part of the government, particularly the Kobayashi Party, led by the manipulative and totalitarian tycoon Mayor Kobayashi (Kunichi Nomura), which has resulted in a banishment of all canines due to various diseases that they apparently carry. The film focuses on a pack of five dogs, in particular, Rex (Edward Norton), King (Bob Balaban), Boss (Bill Murray), Duke (Jeff Goldblum) and their de facto leader, Chief (Bryan Cranston). The dogs of Trash Island have to survive on their own, finding food and eluding death at every moment, whether it be through sickness, starvation or the looming threat of cannibalistic canines lurking not far beyond. The five protagonists have their poverty-stricken, nihilistic quest for survival interrupted by the arrival of “The Little Pilot”, Atari Kobayashi (Koyu Rankin), a young boy who has flown to Trash Island to find his dog, Spots (Liev Schreiber), who was the first dog exiled to the island at the beginning of his uncle’s vicious campaign to rid Megasaki City of all dogs. The five dogs and the young boy set off on a perilous adventure to find Spots, and encounter a colorful blend of characters, each of which enriches their adventure in some way, and helps in bringing change to Megasaki City, which is being run on corruption and extortion.

Like many of Wes Anderson’s films, Isle of Dogs has a very impressive cast. Unlike most of Wes Anderson’s films, Isle of Dogs does not know what to do with its very impressive cast. As will be discussed further on, most of the problems Isle of Dogs comes on behalf of flawed execution, as well as this film being more of a concept than the well-crafted film we’ve seen from Anderson in the past. Isle of Dogs may set the record for a film that constantly fails to utilize its extremely talented cast. Bryan Cranston has a significant role, and alongside a few others, he is actually given a character with an arc. Kunichi Nomura, who plays Atari, is good, but considering he speaks only in Japanese, and without subtitles, it could be noted that he just filled the quota of a character that served as a plot device. Even in films such as Moonrise Kingdom and The Grand Budapest Hotel, which had sprawling casts, Anderson was able to give each member of the ensemble something valuable. The same is not the case for Isle of Dogs, which wastes most of its cast – look at the likes of Jeff Goldblum and Bill Murray, who are two of the most charming and beloved actors working today, but are relegated to one-note characters without much to do, or Tilda Swinton, who only has a single line in the film, or the many talented Japanese performers who, similarly to Nomura, are made out to be plot-devices rather than fully-realized characters (and how does someone cast the legendary iconoclast Yoko Ono in their film and subsequently give her nothing to do?) For a cast with such distinguished talent, Anderson really doesn’t do nearly as much with them as he could, and many of these performers likely only agreed to be in the film through their friendship with Anderson. This cast deserved better, and the film could’ve been considerably improved through some attention to character development. Isle of Dogs is not the first time Anderson has developed a big ensemble – but in previous films, they worked well. In this, the cast was an excuse to plaster the names of distinctive and iconic actors in the hopes that they will draw audiences into the cinema. This is entirely false, and quite frankly unfortunate, as most of these performers are tragically underused.

We do need to talk about the issue that has been looming over this film since it was released. Isle of Dogs has stirred up some controversy, with viewers being divided on whether Anderson’s representation of Japan was an affectionate homage or cultural appropriation. Unfortunately, when it comes to commenting on this issue, I am at a slight disadvantage, not being Japanese myself, but there are some elements of this film and how Anderson represents Japanese culture that even I need to question as being almost insensitive. Anderson makes inoffensive and well-meaning films, but his attempt to be quaint and eccentric can sometimes result in slight problems. The issue I had with Isle of Dogs is the same that many others did – Anderson uses Japanese culture as a way of telling a story, without actually giving the culture the sensitive and delicate treatment it deserves. His film never dismisses Japanese culture or does anything that could outright offend – the problem was that Isle of Dogs seems to be the product of an American filmmaker who is fascinated by the Western view of Japanese culture but doesn’t understand the intricacies of the nation and its history. Throughout Isle of Dogs, Anderson is attempting to make a profoundly moving tribute to Japanese culture, through the lens of an Akira Kurosawa homage, yet it becomes glaringly obvious that he is failing to grasp anything remotely meaningful about what he is trying to convey, the final result is less than ideal.

Anderson’s efforts in paying tribute to Japanese culture come off as well-intentioned, but ultimately insensitive in how it is executed, resulting in something that is far more bothersome than it should’ve been. When this film was announced, I initially thought it would be a loving homage to Japanese culture, done by a filmmaker who has made his career out of sweet and tender cultural idiosyncrasies. However, Isle of Dogs appears more as a collection of tropes and cliches of Japanese culture, rather than being a loving tribute to the culture he is trying to embrace and represent in a daring and entertaining adventure tale. It is made even more worrying when Anderson’s admirable intention to cast Japanese actors to play Japanese characters backfires when one realizes that the Japanese-language portions of this film are not subtitled and are usually translated by an English-speaking character who is positioned as a neutral intellectual. I initially read this as an attempt to create a sense of what dogs go through when interacting with humans and their speech, being able to understand certain key phrases (or rather, being conditioned to associate a particular concept or item with a specific sound), but for the most part not understanding most of what is being said – yet, this intention (which is interesting, and has been the subject of experiments that have been far more successful) is sullied when considering the fact that Anderson used an entire culture and language for this purpose, which is not particularly pleasant for a filmmaker who provided such elegant portrayals of other countries and cultures in his previous films.

I wish I had more passion to write about Isle of Dogs and talk endlessly about how profoundly brilliant this film was, and how Anderson continues to be one of the most fascinating filmmakers of his generation, and perhaps the greatest living artificialist. However, as much as I adore Anderson, and I am able to find merit in everything he does, even defending his less-acclaimed efforts like The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou and The Darjeeling Limited (the latter is my personal favorite film by Anderson), I just cannot be delusional enough to convince myself that Isle of Dogs is nearly as special as anything he has done before. Isle of Dogs has the worst quality imaginable from a Wes Anderson film: it is boring. It doesn’t have the same eccentric spark that made his previous films so effective, and the result is a well-made but contrived film that just, as heartbreaking as it is to say, misses the mark, and does not have the same passion pulsating through it that we’ve seen from Anderson previously. This film has a genuinely good heart, but it just does not know where it wants to go or what it wants to do. It is far too preoccupied with being an endearing and entertaining adventure that pays tribute to Japanese culture, with the film ending up being twee, contrived and predictable. The good intentions of this film are overshadowed by the fact that this film is worryingly dull. I just wanted to love this film more than I did, and I was left heartbreakingly disappointed.

This isn’t even to mention the most glaring flaw present in the film, which I have alluded to already: the self-parody. Anderson is undeniably one of the most popular filmmakers working today, with his aesthetic and narrative prowess making him an idol of both the mainstream crowd and arthouse circles. However, delightfully artificial visuals and quirky, idiosyncratic storylines define Anderson just as much as excessive violence defines Quentin Tarantino. The problem with Isle of Dogs is that Anderson seems to be focusing too much on pandering to the desires of the populace, rather than growing as an artist. This isn’t to say that Isle of Dogs is a dreadful film, or that Anderson is becoming unoriginal – it only means that style is overtaking substance in Anderson’s work, and considering he is a filmmaker that has frequently been able to balance the two concepts relatively well, the fact that he has made such a beautifully-crafted but narratively-lacking film is disappointing. Isle of Dogs will undoubtedly satisfy adherents to the filmmaker who has defined him by his style, but for those who have seen how magical Anderson’s films can be when they are conceived with equal care in terms of storyline, it is quite an empty experience. Anderson hits all of his familiar beats with this film, and Isle of Dogs is as archetypal of a Wes Anderson film as any, functioning more as a homage someone would make to emulate the director’s style, rather than something made by Anderson himself. Perhaps this is a turning point for Anderson, who made a fine film in Isle of Dogs, but not one that is expected of such a masterful filmmaker, and perhaps it is indicative of the fact that Anderson has become too comfortable in one particular style, and once a filmmaker reaches the point of paying homage to themselves, then perhaps it is time to try a different approach to storytelling. I have very little doubt Anderson still has some great films in his – Isle of Dogs just wasn’t one of them.

I was so intent on enjoying Isle of Dogs, and I, unfortunately, came out extremely disappointed and confused as to why this film was not the masterpiece I was hoping it could be. It has the same soulful sincerity of Anderson’s previous films, and it is genuinely well-intentioned and pure, but the execution is not particularly good, and it comes across as culturally insensitive at times, but without appearing malicious. Anderson was clearly out of his narrative element here, and while the film was visually stunning (the stop-motion animation is amongst the best I’ve ever seen), the story was notably lacking in any substance. The film seemed like more of an experiment, an attempt on behalf of Anderson to pay tribute to a specific culture, not realizing how out of his element a film like Isle of Dogs was in terms of the story. I cannot fault this film for its imperfections, but it did leave me upset, because as one of the most ardent proponents of Anderson’s work, where I have found merits in his most dismissed films, I expected more, especially considering he has grown in filmmaking stature and is now able to reach wider audiences through his idiosyncratic, eccentric style that has made him such an endearing cinematic figure. However, all hope is not yet lost: after making his first stop-motion film Fantastic Mr. Fox (which was really good, but not on par with his previous films), Anderson returned with Moonrise Kingdom and The Grand Budapest Hotel, two of his most beloved and embraced films. Here’s hoping that Isle of Dogs, which is a good film in spite of its glaring shortcomings, can be followed by better films. This film is not enough to dismiss Anderson, but rather one of his weaker films. However, when you’ve made as many great, iconic films as Anderson, you cannot be faulted for making one that fails to live up to expectations. I just wish I liked this film more because the pieces that normally make up a great film were certainly there, Anderson just didn’t assemble them as well as he normally does.