Nora inu

A long-standing blemish on my status as a film buff has been the fact that I had never seen a film directed by Akira Kurosawa, easily the most well-known and respected Japanese filmmaker. Finally, my drought has been broken, as I sat down last night to enjoy 'Nora inu / Stray Dog (1949).' A police procedural in the classic film-noir tradition, the film stars Kurosawa-regular Toshirô Mifune as a young homicide detective whose firearm is pick-pocketed while on a bus. When it becomes clear that the weapon has fallen into the hands of a desperate, murdering criminal, Det. Murakami becomes consumed with guilt and shame, and it is only through the experienced guidance of mentor Det. Sato (Takashi Shimura) that he can overcome his insecurities and track down the suspect. 'Stray Dog' was the director's tenth film, and the third in a wealth of collaborations with Mifune throughout an illustrious career. Though it is not quite the masterpiece I had {probably unreasonably} been anticipating, I can only promise that my first Kurosawa will certainly not be my last.

Surprisingly, 'Stray Dog' is similar in many regards to Vittorio De Sica's neorealist masterpiece 'The Bicycle Thief (1948).' Both films concern a disillusioned man's seemingly-futile search for an essential stolen object, in a city of poor and pitiable individuals, where, in the aftermath of World War Two, widespread economic difficulties have forced many towards a life of crime. When Det. Murakami first begins searching for his stolen gun, there is a wonderful extended sequence in which he purposelessly wanders the poverty-stricken streets, experiencing the decadence of society for himself, for the first time understanding why a criminal might have been forced to tread a darkened path. A very important theme of the film is the obvious parallel between Det. Murakami and his suspect, Yusa (Isao Kimura). Both individuals fell on hard times when their knapsacks were stolen: while the former took the crucial step towards law enforcement, the latter chose the opposite path, eventually becoming a thief and a wanted murderer. In the story's climactic chase sequence, the two men tussle violently in the undergrowth, their faces becoming coated in a layer of mud; for a decisive few moments, detective and criminal are practically indistinguishable from each other.

One component of film-making that Kurosawa had evidently mastered by 1949 was creating intensity, and, in many ways, 'Stray Dog' is simply discomforting to watch. The events of the film appear to take place during an extreme heatwave, and the perspiration clings to the skin of the actors as though they are practically roasting in their seats. When the story reaches a devastating climax, its arrival is heralded by the breaking of a storm, the passing of the sweltering drought perhaps symbolising that the dull, futile routine of police procedure has come to an end. I was also impressed by the frantic chase sequences at both the beginning and end of the film, which, aside from being exceptionally thrilling, were genuinely harrowing. Watching Murakami and Yusa grapple in the vegetation, before both collapsing to the ground in fatigue, I don't think I've ever seen film characters looking so utterly exhausted. Despite a masterful opening and closing, 'Stray Dogs' tended to drag a lot in the middle, with the two detectives moving from one possible witness to the other, very slowly gathering the information they require to track down their suspect. Nonetheless, I now have the massive undertaking of deciding which of Akira Kurosawa's films I will watch next.

This early Kurosawa film interested me not only as a historical object, but because, as in every one of his films I've seen so far, the moral and philosophical implication of the story carries as much weight as the dramatic and poetic aspects. As another commenter said here, "When was the last time you saw a film where the central character had something called a moral imperative." To me it's extremely gratifying to find directors like Kurosawa, Bergman, and today's Hirokazu Kore-eda who treat moral themes seriously and with dignity, and don't shy away from difficult questions.

I was also intrigued by how almost every scene bears, already, the stamp of Kurosawa's unique vision as a director. I have no idea how this comes about, but there's just something there, almost like a fingerprint, that says "Kurosawa" unmistakeably. I would have to leave it to more gifted and better schooled viewers than myself to explain it, but I love seeing it. In part, I suppose it's due to the exceptionally fine cinematographers that Kurosawa habitually worked with.

I think the film is about thirty minutes too long, but if I have to see a film that's a bit too long, I'm at least glad it's by Kurosawa!

This early Kurosawa effort floats stylistically somewhere between the film noir and neo-realism, incorporating the best from both worlds to elaborately craft a landscape (both physical and social) of post-war Japan. It's only been 4 years since the dreadful A-bombings and the subsequent defeat of Japan in WW2 and both the country and the people are deeply scarred. War veterans return home to find a country torn by poverty and as the saying goes, desperate conditions demand desperate measures.

A very young Toshiro Mifune plays the greenhorn detective who has his gun stolen and spends the rest of the movie trying to track down the culprit. As it turns out the culprit is a war veteran just like Mifune's character, only where the latter tried to do good and found an honest job, the former opted for the easy way out and became a criminal, using the stolen gun to rob and kill. This adds an additional layer of motivation for detective Sato. Not only does he have to restore his honour (ironically symbolised by the lost gun which he tries to retrieve), but also redeem himself by bringing the killer to justice. What makes matters worse for him is that every time his stolen gun is fired someone dies or gets injured, which adds another burden of guilt on the shoulders of the young detective.

The story might appear too moralistic and convenient (both antagonist and protagonist share a common background, being war veterans, making the distinction of good and bad all too easy), but it has to be seen in the context of the times. Mifune says that there are no bad people, only bad situations. But as his detective collaborator on the case remarks (played by the great Takashi Shimura, who also starred in Seven Samurai) he faced the same bad situation and made something good out of it. Kurosawa here neatly balances the social climate of post-war Japan and the conditions of the times with personal responsibility.

Story-wise it's a worthy effort, but like Rashomon, it sounds a little bit better than it actually is. Not that Stray Dog is a bad movie by any means, but clocking in at 2 hours it starts to drag near the middle. There are some nice set-pieces that showcase Kurosawa's growing talent (like the phone scene in the hotel where he uses inter-cutting to great effect) and the performances are solid all around. There's also a silent 10 minute montage of location footage shot in rundown neighborhoods as Sato searches the black market for his gun, which serves as a poignant snapshot of Japanese history.

Kurosawa would go on to achieve international acclaim with his next movie, Rashomon, but Stray Dog already shows that he was destined for great things. Compared to later entries in his filmography Stray Dog appears to be a minor entry, but it's still well worth the time to discover.

Captivating American-esque noir, one of Kurosawa's first great films. What seems like a weak premise for a thriller at the start actually ends up providing a great central situation for this movie which drives it forward much better than, say, Donzoko. Music, also is great.

Toshiro Mifune, looking young and handsome, is quite marvellous as the central character, a detective whose gun is stolen on a bus. What starts out as a detective nervous about finding his gun and fixing a silly mistake, develops into a frantic and desparate man who feels somehow responsible for whatever crimes are committed with his gun. The suspense and detective-story plot are well developed in Stray Dog, but what really makes the story captivating is the revelation of the central character's feeling of guilt throughout, and his learning about crime, criminals, and that what is important is to make good come of your mistakes.

In ravished, Post-War Tokyo, rookie Detective Murakami's (Young Toshiro Mifune) gun is stolen. Being the crippling times, guns are tough to come by. Soon, victims are found, slain with bullets from Mifune's gun. The man-hunt is on, while Tokyo goes through a devastating heatwave, and Mifune goes through an equally devastating change ("A Stray Dog sees only what it chases" a detective warns him.) Made well before Akira Kurosawa became famous for "Rashomon", "Stray Dog" is a roaring classic! Every character's movement reflects either the horrid heatwave, or the living conditions. It is ironic that a downpour (Kurosawa's favorite on-screen weather condition) breaks the heat just as the tensions in the film mount. How "Bicycle Thief" reflected the times of post war Italy, this classic does the same for post war Japan.