Amateur Recommendation Hour: Stray Dog

Today’s recommendation is the oldest work of cinema I’ve yet written about, but one that I believe is essential to anyone who is interested in the earlier day of the medium of film and the history of cinema itself. A remarkable and equally touching piece that excels in its presence, sense of atmosphere and sheer attention to it’s tone and pacing. It’s a testament to the enduring quality of the authenticity of its artistry and its artist. An early pioneer of the art-form of cinema if there ever was one.

Stray Dog, directed by Akira Kurosawa, possibly the most well-known Japanese filmmaker not just of his time but all-time, is a film that takes place in and is from 1949. A young and inexperienced police officer on the Tokyo police force is riding on a bus during a very hot summer day when he realizes that his gun has been stolen from his holster. Apprehensive about admitting his mistake to his superiors, he initially goes it alone in the crime-ridden and economically ravaged criminal underworld. When his missing gun is implicated in a crime spree he decides to rely on a more experienced detective’s methodology.

As you would imagine this film is full of Kurosawa’s innovative shot framing and cinematography, full of very deliberate and brisk pans as well as more aggressive curved shots. While its narrative is slowly paced not only did the methodical pace give an intentionality and create a tension and an expectation but it also adds to it’s overall atmosphere. Those aforementioned moments of tension are sparsely placed, never allowing the audience to be desensitized to them, but when action occurs, you know it’s going to lead to an important plot development going deeper than simple suspense. 

The experience is further enhanced by the relationship between the main characters. Stray Dogs is what is considered to be the precursor to the “buddy-cop” and police procedural genre of films. They react believably to each situation as it relates to how much expertise they have on their respective beats. Being more than just vessels for the narrative to move forward, we learn important details of who they are naturalistically through dialogue with each other, their higher-ups and witnesses they question without having to devote time to developing who they are, and potentially damaging the pace. Toshiro Mifune and Takashi Shimura portraying the newly promoted homicide detective Murakami and veteran detective Sato respectively, breath such life into the main characters with their performances.

Even if it was not restricted to its black and white color palette as the film is from 1949, it feels like even if it was made today it would be an artistic choice well-made. The smoke filled alleyways and bars, the dimly lit city streets flickering in and out of view, the cold lights of a late night crime scene, the dangerous places the most vulnerable populations are pushed into. All the hallmarks of noir cinema are here, but with the added bite of its weather to aid in creating its sense of place within both time and physical space.

It is all in service to the sense of heat and oppression that is palpable throughout the film. The sweltering and beaming heat of an unforgiving Japanese summer is felt throughout the film. There’s a chaotic sense of business, not necessarily just in the physical activity of the people but in the collective souls of a nation. One in the wake of a dramatic shift in how they emulate themselves to each other and the rest of the globe. The weariness and self-reflection lends an authenticity and rough exterior beneath a still-beating heart. You can see the sweat dripping off faces, the discomfort of the population, the grumpiness that humidity often lugs with us and in turn we feel it as more than just a random meteorological occurrence, but a metaphor for the lingering backdrop of post-war Japan.

Interestingly enough Kurosawa himself was initially colder on the film after its release, calling it “too technical” ultimately remarking in his autobiography released in 1982 that “no shooting ever went as smoothly.” Maybe perfectionism got the better of him in the initial time after its wide release. I find it’s workman-like qualities in service to its cinematic quality and staying power of it’s unique and enduring vision that strands of relevancy can even be felt in long since it’s subject matter was considered contemporary.

I believe this work to be about the sense of loss and guilt felt amongst the collective Japanese population post-World War II, with the lost gun being used as symbolism for the chaos, uncertainty, and feelings of powerlessness during their reconstruction. A chaotic introspection in the wake of the largest conflict humanity has ever and hopefully will ever know. Creating a new identity for not just the individual trying to find themselves and their loved ones some sense of closure and rebirth, but the nation as a whole, fearing the unknown of a world already weary and fraught with the responsibility of finding itself again. Wondering if they will ever get the chance to rebuild not just into something stable, but something that can stand the test of time and endure as something more than the malevolence of their imperial forbearers.

In a way I think that it also relates to the sentiments felt by modern Japanese society and their mentality towards firearms being possessed by civilians. A huge responsibility that they believe should only belong to those fully qualified and authorized to bear arms. That should that responsibility be given to one who seeks to bring about a peril and disorder a greater problem awaits society than merely that which allows such magnitude to be given to any one person, should we find ourselves in this position again, we can only hope it is someone responsible choosing to either pull the trigger or hold their fire.