Film:The Dog Murder [Quan sha 犬杀] Director: PENG Xiaolian 彭小莲 Performers: SONG Ruhui 宋茹惠, LI Xiaojia 李晓佳, ZHANG Qide 张启德, GAO Shuguang 高曙光, Laifu the dog Breed featured: German Shepherd Production information: Shanghai Film Company, 1996 (China)
Xu Lin, a famous stage director, lives in a palatial mansion in Shanghai’s French Concession with his surly wife. The only thing that seems to liven his days is his long-haired German Shepherd, Laifu. So it is most unusual when one evening, the household pet and loyal guardian turns on him, tearing out his throat and killing him. Female cop Teng Li is called in to tie together the loose ends when it is revealed that the dog was only acting under human command — that of the real killer.
File this under so crappy, it’s boring. No one is ever going to do anything with this film other than scoff at it… Nevertheless, the giant plot holes and factual absurdities reveal some common misconceptions about dogs. At the outset, Laifu’s vicious behavior is attributed to a case of rabies, so it’s a big deal that he’s at large in the city. There’s a lengthy chase scene in which Laifu is pursued through some Shanghai back alleys. Though he is not caught, these claustrophobic urban mazes provide an interesting spatial contrast to the Arcadian grounds whence he escaped.
In another scene, the female cop questions a professional dog trainer about Laifu’s behavior. “A dog turning on its own master? That’s the first I’ve ever heard of such a thing,” claims the expert. The scenario is supposed to be even more impossible because the dog in question is a purebred German Shepherd, known for its absolute devotion and obedience.
So obviously, some outside factor was involved, which completely absolves the dog of blame. I was struck by this fairly generous assessment, given that Chinese dogs are often euthanized en masse given even the mere suspicion of rabies.
So the real reason for Laifu’s fatal attack?
The answer: Nazis.
Yeah, they went there.
As it turns out, the killer was motivated by reading about a temporary insanity serum that the Nazis supposedly created to make dogs (and by extension, humans) lash out with intense violence for a brief period of time. By coincidence, this technique mirrors a fantastic idea proposed by a Taiwanese businessman and would-be lover of the dead man’s widow, who briefly comes under scrutiny early on in the cop’s investigation because he presents himself as claiming to know how to handle dogs. However, this Taiwanese businessman’s knowledge was also derived from another fictional world — Jin Yong’s martial arts novels.
The identity of the real killer doesn’t matter in the end, nor why the crime was committed. I got tired of the movie after they completely dropped the premise promised in the title.
We’re basically reassured that Laifu returns to the safe haven of the affluent household that raised him, and that justice prevails. If nothing else is stable in post-Socialist China, at least you can count on the integrity of law and order.
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The House of Two Bows keeps a running index of movies blurbed on the site, annotated by breed. If you’re interested in writing a guest blog for a dog film, contact for details.
Sebastian Speaks! Your Watchdog on a Disc.
Featuring Sebastian Von Willow, as trained by his owner, C. Brooks Whitfield
San Francisco: Grr-r Records (In-Sync), 1980
The notes on the back are fabulous. Click to enlarge and read in detail:
Some excerpts:
Thieves — Beware of Sebastian!
Sebastian Von Willow actually lives in Woodside, California. He is the mainspring of a family of five active people plus two lesser dogs, a parrot, squads of cats and some horses down by the barn. Like many German Shepherds, he really is two dogs in one. He is the playful family companion, pal, clown, tease, and general nuisance. And he is his family’s sentry — always on the alert for the unusual — a noise that shouldn’t be, a stranger at the door or lurking nearby. Day or night, Sebastian is ON GUARD… ready to warn, protect, defend. […]
What this Record Is And Isn’t…
No, this record is not a burglar alarm. And it is not guaranteed to fend off burglars or intruders. But it will help you create an illusion that there is a watchdog — a Sebastian of your own — right there behind your front door or in the back of the house.
Here are some suggestions for putting Sebastian to work in your home: when you go out, leave Sebastian playing at a moderate volume (test for the right setting by listening outside with doors and windows closed). Sebastian’s volume level should suit the natural ambiance of your home. Your record player should be set on “repeat” or the record changer arm or grippers should be set so the cycle will repeat. Turn on a portable radio, too. Each time you go out, vary the radio settings — sometimes no radio, other times a different program or volume. Sebastian loves the radio — any program — and will stay with you, restlessly snuffling and barking as long as you’re away. […]
For variety, you can adjust your turntable or record player to 45 RPM, and PRESTO! You’ve got a convincing middle-size dog sound. Perhaps Sebastian Jr. won’t seem quite as huge — but menacing, nonetheless!
How to Care for Sebastian
Sebastian is the easiest watchdog to care for in the world! He needs no food, no shots, never sheds, is perfectly obedient, has no embarrassing “doggie breath,” requires no clean-up, no grooming, no flea collars. But there are some things you must do to keep Sebastian speaking: Remember, this is a precision recording. Scratches or dust on the surface might make the arm stick. […]
How This Record was Made
Sebastian was recorded live, at work in his own home. No stand-in dogs or sound effects were used. Approximately 30 minutes of original material was prepared on a master tape, then sent to the sound studio. There, careful editing was done to achieve natural built-in pauses, barks, and growls of varying intensities — from faraway noises to up-close snarls! Don’t be surprised that you don’t hear wall-to-wall barking on this recording. That would be unnatural… and Sebastian Speaks sounds like the real thing, naturally!
This is why I love DJ’ing at a freeform radio station where they let you play just about anything you want. Sebastian speaks and lives… forever!
From a spread entitled “Training Police Dogs” 警犬之訓練 in the November, 1935 issue of The Young Companion [Liangyou 良友], a Shanghai-based illustrated monthly magazine. Photographs by WEI Shouzhong 魏守忠.
Apologies for the fuzzy picture quality (click to enlarge). The dogs in this article appear to be primarily Shepherd dogs (Malinois, GSD, etc.) that are generically translated as “wolf dogs” (狼犬) whether or not they have actual wolf ancestry. Not all the text is clearly visible either. I’ve transcribed what I could below. There was one significant portion that was not translated into English, so my rough translation is included in italics.
When this magazine commissioned these pictures from the reporter, Mr. Wei Shouzhong in Beiping (Beijing), attached to two were these notes: “These dogs are being raised privately by Mr. Jiang Bin. The dogs’ performances were photographed with his permission, and under guidance of trainer Wang. The training of police dogs depends entirely on the synergistic energy of the trainer and his dog, using a combination of authority and affection. The dog’s every action comes from his devotion to his master, with no concern for anything else. Achieving the command comes first; all the rest follows. The difference between police dogs and traditional dogs is that there are only two ways to train traditional dogs: with punishment by beating and with the lure of food. None of their actions come from their devotion to their master, but rather from their desire for food or their fear of punishment. These are not methods that can be used on police dogs. The reward and punishment of police dogs is entirely dependent on spirit of behavior, or else when it comes time to put their life on the line, they may stop mid-path for want of food or fear of blows, and thus be rendered useless indeed!
“The dogs trained by Mr. Jiang are all Western breeds, because they are quick and intelligent in spirit, strong of memory, and hale of body. As for dogs of our country [China], because of [canine] race relations, and the closeness of bloodlines, the dogs bred are dull and stupid, and thus not appropriate to become police dogs. Unless we organize the breeds in our country, employ a systematic method of breeding, after ten or so years, it would follow that breeds would gradually improve, and could be used selectively. The West not only attends to the pairing of canine bloodlines with precision, [livestock animal husbandry] of cows, sheep, horses, etc. is also like this. We rely on foreign countries for everything. If we don’t increase our efforts, foreigners will have the advantage even when it comes to a single chicken or dog — a disgrace indeed.
Police dogs provide a tremendous assistance to police work because their exceptional sense of smell can accomplish what humans cannot. We often get a glimpse of this in the movies…
To find the smell of a stolen object
尋犯所匿物,犬聞者氣,尋其藏件。覓者藏之件使嗅犯之味再覓所物。
Running
警犬之奔馳練習。
Crawling
使伏爬練,便尋人時為手見犬地行習以於緝犯不敵所。
Keen watch over his master’s possessions
警防物之練主指地犬伏件,為守犬守件訓,人定點即物前嚴看。
Because we know the holidays aren’t just about feelgood times in the company of family you can’t stand during the rest of the year, here are ten dog movies that will depress the hell out of everyone and totally ruin your holidays. If things are getting too jolly around the living room, load up one of these films and watch the mood plummet faster than you can say, “Hand me the flask.”
Spoiler alert: A prominent canine character dies in at least six out of ten of these titles. The descriptions below may or may not indicate which ones.
To avoid redundancy, I didn’t list anything that had appeared on my previous list of Top Dog Movies, compiled two years ago. That was my arbitrary reason to omit Journey of Natty Gann (1985), Amores Perros (2000), and Inu no Eiga (2005) which could easily have fit here. I also tried to stay away from some of the typical titles that top these lists like Marley and Me (2008) or Where the Red Fern Grows (1974 & 2003); those were probably better off remaining as only literary properties, anyway.
I will, however, begin with at least one obvious choice, primarily because I haven’t blogged it yet.
10. Old Yeller. Dir. Robert Stevenson. Perf. Tommy Kirk, Kevin Corcoran, Spike the Dog. Walt Disney Pictures: 1957.
Having recently rewatched this children’s classic after not having seen it in probably 20 years, I was struck by a few revelations. The biggest was that older brother Travis Coates, whose self-sufficiency and stiff upper lip in the face of emotional trauma seemed so crushable to me as a child, just seems petulant and downright brutish to me now. He may know how to plow and hunt and keep the household in ham, but he’s kind of a jerk — one who just happens to love a dog that even the cruelest kid in the west should be able to love. Screw you Travis, and your annoying little brother too.
The film’s primary redeeming quality is that they knew to give ample footage to Yeller, the hulk of a Lab-Mastiff cur who comes across as a superdog capable of any task you set before him. For Travis to gain a modicum of maturity at the sacrifice of Yeller’s life seems particularly unjust when one witnesses how badly he regresses in the failed sequel Savage Sam (1963). Yeah, Disney sure sent that sequel to the hogs…
9. Hachi, a Dog’s Tale. Dir. Lasse Hallström. Perf. Richard Gere, Joan Allen, Cary-Hiroyuki Tagawa, Chico, Layla, Forrest. Inferno/Stage 6: 2009.
I’m kind of allergic to most romantic leading males (e.g. Richard Gere), so I was initially resistant to this Americanized retelling of the famous story of the loyal Japanese Akita, Hachiko. One masochistic night, I decided to stream this on Netflix, and found it refreshingly sufficient for what little it aspires to be. Transplanted from Tokyo to Rhode Island, this version is relieved of the burden of nationalist authentication, allowing it to “just” be about a dog loving professor and the Akita of his affections. Because their relationship is so untainted and simple, it becomes more like a lament over the poor animal’s inability to process abstractions like death rather than praise for his unflagging loyalty, a sentiment I’ve never been comfortable taking at face value.
Could this spot have been replaced with the 1987 Japanese version (screenshot pictured above)? Well, they used actual Akita instead of Shiba puppies in that one, but it’s kind of hard to topple the downysoft duo of any Nihon ken puppy plus Richard Gere. The American version succeeds by being less moralizing, even gentler, and even more vapid than the predecessor. You don’t have to go into this expecting to think too much, just cry, dammit! Cry! The power of Hachi compels you!
And speaking of sentimental remakes of Japanese originals…
8. Nankyoku monogatari [Antarctica]. Dir. Koreyoshi Kurahara. Perf. Ken Takakura, numerous dogs. 1983.
In 1958, a Japanese expedition to Antarctica had to abandon their team of sled dogs for reasons unexpected and uncontrollable. Fifteen Sakhalin huskies (Karafuto dogs) were left tightly chained to a line with only a week’s worth of food, as the team originally had expected they would return for them. Eight dogs were able to slip or break free of their chains, but then they had to learn to survive in the severe climate and treacherous landscape. Eleven months later, members of the expedition were finally able to return, discovering that two of the original dogs had survived all that time. This film dramatizes that adventure.
With a soundtrack by Vangelis and a pseudo-documentary approach relying on an omniscient narrator to relay the dogs’ thoughts, I suspect the Japanese version strikes a more somber tone than its Disneyfied remake, Eight Below (2006). The Japanese version also presents a more eclectic canine cast than the uniformly purebred Siberian huskies of its American interpretation. With a greater emphasis on the dogs, counting down with each tragic death, there was little attempt to cover up the truth. In fact, a significant side story to the dogs’ survival plot involves one of the expedition members embarking on a grand tour of apology, visiting the families who had contributed sled dogs and personally accounting for his role in the dogs’ noble sacrifice.
At any rate, the austerity of the landscape is thankfully counterbalanced by many scenes of happy, off-leash dogs running fast, loose, and free.
7. Quill. Dir Yoichi Sai. Perf. Kaoru Kobayashi, Kippei Shina, Rafie the dog. Quill Film Partners: 2004.
Quill was raised from puppyhood to be a seeing eye dog, and to spend his life helping others. Due to no fault of his own, he never really gets to stay in a permanent home. His life is his job, such that he barely gets a chance to be a dog. Or rather, as a dog with a job, he has changed the very perception of what it means to be a modern dog. Such selflessness! Such devotion! Such an honorable, purposeful existence! Pass me another tissue, please.
6. Plague Dogs. Dir. Martin Rosen. Perf. John Hurt, Christopher Benjamin, Nigel Hawthorne. Nepenthe: 1982.
As much as we praise the functional dog who works alongside his human partners, there is also a dark side to this relationship, as in the animal testing laboratories of modern industrial societies. Rowf and Snitter are two dogs who escape from such a nightmarish world. However, their presence creates something of a government scandal, as local farmers fear they may be carrying the plague or other diseases created as experiments in bioterrorism. So the hunt is on to capture the errant pair…
Not having read the Richard Adams book on which this animated feature was based, I was completely unprepared for the soul-crushing heaviness of this story. While this is the only animated feature on this list, it is pretty exceptional as far as non-Japanese animation goes, and definitely a memorable title that fully demonstrates how evocative hand-drawn cel art can be.
5. Vidas Secas [Life is Barren]. Dir. Nelson Pereira dos Santos. Perf. Átila Iório, Orlando Macedo, Baleia the dog. Luiz Carlos Barreto Produções Cinematográficas/Sino Filmes, 1963.
Poverty and pets don’t mix. Down with the exploitation of the agricultural peasantry!!
4. Umberto D. Dir. Vittoria De Sica. Perf. Carlo Battisti, Maria-Pia Casilio, Flike the dog. 1952.
Poverty and pets don’t mix. Down with the oppression of the urban underclass!!
3. I Am Legend. Dir. Francis Lawrence. Perf. Will Smith, Abby & Kona the dogs. Village Roadshow: 2007.
A cancer cure gone wrong has turned into a disastrous virus, wiping out 90% of humanity and turning the remaining 9% into photosensitive mutants who feed on the 1% of humans possessing natural immunity. Will Smith plays a military doctor who is part of that exclusive 1%, occupying a depopulated New York City with his faithful German Shepherd, Samantha. She is the only other living thing that responds to language — except, unfortunately, his stop or recall commands when it really, really matters.
After her passing, it seems intolerable for life (or the movie, for that matter) to go on, but it has to conclude somehow. The unwatchableness of the last, dog-less third does its part to ensure some potent ill will towards the filmmakers, if not all of humanity.
2. Pedigree Dogs Exposed. Dir. Jemima Harrison. BBC One: 2008.
While we might fabricate good reasons to distrust science in the name of Hollywood fantasy, there are actually compelling reasons to heed science in our day-to-day transactions, including the breeding of our beloved pets. This British documentary is certainly not the first to have raised concerns about the ethics of purebred dog breeding, but its sensational manner created an unprecedented splash when it was first broadcast — all the better to get the public talking.
The 50-minute long documentary is not without its faults, as the director has no time to spare in airing the happily-ever-after pet stories that we take for normal. She has been targeted by some rather vitriolic breeders and critics, as her blog frequently reveals. Perhaps what’s most depressing is not what this documentary reveals about the health of some breeds as a whole, but rather what it exposes about the mindset of some people at top echelons who have completely warped visions of what it means to be breed stewards.
If the YouTube movie embedded above does not work, just search for another version. It’s readily available online, last I checked. The sequel, Pedigree Dogs Exposed: Three Years On (2011) continues the investigation with some extra footage to be found on the DVDs, available for purchase here.
1. Good-bye, My Lady. Dir. William Wellman. Perf. Walter Brennan, Brandon deWilde, Sidney Poitier, My Lady of the Congo. Batjac: 1956.
So here’s another iteration of boy-gets-superdog, boy-loses-superdog-and-gains-maturation theme. Though I didn’t rank this list in any particular order, I would put this one far higher than the title that began this roundup because the dog is a Basenji, and the Basenji doesn’t die.
TAKE NOTE, future screenwriters and directors! Contrary to convention, the dog doesn’t have to die for the characters to arrive at enlightenment. Leave the dog alone. If somebody’s gotta go, try killing off the boy or mom and dad or a few hundred mutants or half the town’s population first. Audiences and critics will hate you less.
More dog films, including happier ones, can be found by checking out posts filed under FILMS, or accessing the index of dog movies reviewed and screencapped on this blog.
Film:The Man Who Laughs Director: Paul Leni Performers: Conrad Veidt, Mary Philbin, Zimba the Dog (Homo the Wolf) Breed featured: German Shepherd Production information: Universal, 1928 (USA)
In seventeenth century England, young Gwynplaine, son of a nobleman, has his face surgically disfigured into a permanent, grotesque grin as punishment when his father offends the King. Cast out into the wilderness, the boy picks up an orphaned blind baby and is eventually taken in by a kind-hearted mountebank, Ursus. Gwynplaine and the baby girl, Dea, grow to be central members of Ursus’ traveling theatrical troupe. The young lovers seem made for each other, so Ursus intends for them to marry. However, Gwynplaine deems himself inadequate for Dea, whose blindness has shielded her from the truth of his disfigurement.
Anyway, things happen, and Gwynplaine finds himself sucked back into the machinations of the royal court. The film summary on Wikipedia is perfectly sufficient to fill you in on plot details. Of course, I’m most interested in Ursus’ companion, a “domesticated wolf” whom he has named… Homo.
Talk about an identity crisis… Zimba the dog plays a wolf whose name is Latin for man!
Zimba is typed as a “German” shepherd dog for convenience, as the German nationality of the cast (specifically, Conrad Veidt) and director looms large over this extravagant, semi-silent Hollywood production. Publicity perhaps subtly affected the way that audiences decoded the image of Homo the “Wolf.” Anyway, Zimba was not the first — nor would he be the last! — GSD called upon to play the part of a wolf in film. Rin Tin Tin, the more famous contemporary dog actor, often straddled the lupine-canine divide as well. These dogs appeared large and imposing and could assume fierce faces on command.
Yet, they were appealing precisely because they’re “tameable,” able to be mastered. So Homo knows to guard his own, and to stay at Dea’s side when ordered to serve as masculine surrogate in Gwynplaine’s absence.
His muzzle doesn’t appear quite as triangular as most GSD, does it? Nor does he have the dark mask that is required in the breed standard.
The wolfdog occupies an important thematic role as observer, mediator, and judge. Named after the saying, Homo homini lupus, or “Man is a wolf to [fellow] man,” Homo metes final justice, acting both as a force of nature and (human) moral rectitude when he rips out the throat of the big bad guy. But most importantly, because the animal actor delivers the violence we wished upon the enemy, the humans are allowed to return to innocence even as their collective bloodlust is satiated.
Victory for dog, victory for mankind! He gives the audience what they want without the guilt. What a very useful dog indeed.
Bonus animals in the film include several other anonymous dogs scurrying under horse hooves and cartwheels, and a pet monkey in the possession of one kinky Duchess Josiana. This last pairing adds a touch of irony — the primate, as well as the royal mistress whose emotions he mimics, are both far more “beastly” than the wolf who dwells amongst sideshow freaks.
Homo the Wolf may not live up to his form, but in this story, he certainly lives up to his name.
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The House of Two Bows keeps a running index of movies blurbed on the site, annotated by breed. If you’re interested in writing a guest blog for a dog film, contact for details.
I’ve mentioned before that RJ favors setters, whereas I usually don’t. However, I met quite the head-turner just the other day.
Checkers is an Irish Red and White Setter. Despite the low tide, he had not a speck of water or mud on his gleaming coat. What can I say? I’m a sucker for clean-looking red and white dogs…
As I chatted with his owner, a German Shepherd trotted over and sniffed.
Checkers’ owner confided that he had almost been killed by a GSD as a kid. Decades later, when he was ready to have a dog of his own, he made sure to find one with a “happy face.”
Film:Siren of the Tropics (La sirène des tropiques) Director: Mario Nalpas, Henri Étiévant Performers: Josephine Baker, Pierre Batcheff, Régina Dalthy Breed featured: German (?) Shepherd Production information: La Centrale Cinématographique, 1927 (France)
Josephine Baker nearly explodes off the screen in her feature-length film debut. Full of vigor, beauty, and passion, it’s little wonder that she instantly captivated European audiences while simultaneously alienating American viewers in her rejected homeland who were too deeply entrenched in segregationist rhetoric to appreciate her kinetic artistry. The entwining of racial politics and constructed primitivism is a bit problematic in this colonial backdrop of the French Antilles islands, where the beginning of the film is set. For the purposes of this blog, I’ll just focus on the way that Baker’s character, Papitou, expresses her “natural” animal mystique.
In her opening scene, Papitou witnesses a group of neighborhood children throw a poor cat down a well. She leaps to the rescue and saves the kitten, who’s luckily no worse for the wear. At home, she towels the cat off while her shepherd awkwardly tries to mouth it dry. But with just a bit of gentle, easy chiding, Papitou is able to reconcile cat and dog — a testament to her natural ability to not only tame the beasts around her, but to create harmony between fabled enemies of old.
The dog wasn’t important enough to get his own screen credits or even a name in the story, but he creates a strong visual impression of her primitive roots — one which she chooses to leave behind when she follows her love interest back to Paris. As she slips away, the last (and only) person she bids farewell to is her dog; he expresses a brief, lingering sentiment and pathos as he claws against the door, calling out one last time for his mistress.
Historically speaking, I’m not sure how common shepherd dogs were in the French Antilles — or even if this dog is up to par with contemporary standards of “pure” “German” Shepherds. But it seems that his placement has little or nothing to do with German national identity. Rather, Papitou’s dog is a remnant of the colonial presence that haunts the region, and serves as a metonymic stand-in for the prick-eared, lean and wild-looking village dogs that are typical in so many regions.
However, this dog appears just refined enough that the illusion is penetrated. As if Josephine Baker’s glamor and radiance wasn’t enough to expose the film for its own constructedness! Which brings me to my second point about why I found this anonymous dog’s bit part so unusual and worth highlighting… Even as the image of the GSD was insistently masculinized and militarized by its more prominent appearances in film (Rin Tin Tin), in war, and in text (the GSD was said to only obey the will of women “with reservations”, according to breed founder Max von Stephanitz as cited in Aaron Skabelund, “Breeding Racism: The Imperial Battlefields of the ‘German’ Shepherd Dog,” Society and Animals 16 (2008) p. 360), leave it up to French filmmakers to totally disregard what this type of dog should mean according to Germans. A little bit like Josephine Baker herself, displacement in a foreign context gave this dog the freedom to signify with greater range.
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The House of Two Bows keeps a running index of movies blurbed on the site, annotated by breed. If you’re interested in writing a guest blog for a dog film, contact for details.
Here is a neat pull-out spread of the global “Community of Dogs 走狗展覽” that appeared in the Shanghai-based pictorial magazine, The Young Companion (Liangyou 良友), no. 78 (1933), pp. 25-6. Pardon the seam; the reprint volumes are too large to fit on the scanner at once. Vintage photos are always nice, but the setup and captions here are what make this article for me, particularly in the occasional differences between the Chinese and the English.
I should start by mentioning that the title translates more literally as “Exhibition of Running Dogs.” The term zǒu gǒu 走狗 is usually highly pejorative, meaning a lackey or a stooge. In modern context, it’s a politically loaded term to label someone who toadies to foreign interests. In semicolonial Shanghai, where public expression was policed under the official KMT policy of appeasement (especially the Japanese, who had the military wherewithal to bomb the hell out of the port city as indeed they had, barely a year prior), the term could be loosely slung at anyone who indulged in the cosmopolitan allures of the city without minding the dire national situation.
This context might affect how you view this article, and what kind of details ruffle the surface.
Liangyou Dogs of the World, page 1
Original text transcribed below in bold, a few revealing discrepancies retranslated in italics, and commentary in normal font.
The English [sheep]dog, white and tousled.
英國棉犬, 毛白而茸亂。
The Greyhound noted for its smooth elegance.
爾雅溫文,為靈[犬+是]之特性.
The obscure old character for this type of dog doesn’t even show up in any of my dictionaries??
Long-haired dachshunds are the elegant cavaliers among dogs.
長毛潤澤,犬羣中之騎士。
Head of a young Chow Chow.
小犬餓矣!The puppy is hungry!
The Borzoi with its aristocratic charm.
波爾塞犬之高貴丰[豐]度。
A little symphony in white.
白色交響曲。
Can anyone tell what kind of dog this is? A Pyrenees or Samoyed pup?
The hairy and lively Skye Terrier.
獵犬之一種,遍體長毛。
The Chinese points out the hair all over the dog’s body and says nothing of its liveliness.
Liangyou Dogs of the World, page 2
Three Duchshunds [sic] are listening to something.
問汝何所聽? 身長足短之獵犬。
Three more long-bodied, short-legged “hunting dogs.” The term for hounds or any terrier is an XX liè quán 獵犬, or literally “hunting dog,” of which there were several different types native to China — most of them not shaped like these guys.
Gazing in a sad amazement at a world in which so much is forbidden.
兩狆犬之愁苦眼光,瞻望這不自由的世界。The sad and melancholic expressions of two Zhongquan, gazing at this unfree world.
These dogs which are basically what we’d call pugs are named in Chinese as zhòng quán 狆犬. Apparently, usage of this term changes over time, so any Pekingese type which was called a zhong dog back then is now strictly known as a Japanese Chin, whereas the international “Pekingese” has been reinserted into the standard lexicon as the Beijing dog (北京狗). I need to confirm this with further research.
At any rate, it’s not clear to me which “community” these zhong dogs are supposed to represent, especially when coupled with that cryptic caption — just what is forbidden to whom? Or more literally, what keeps them from being truly “free”?
Ready, aye, ready! The Alsatian.
準備!喂,準備!阿沙丹犬。
Get ready for… what?
Young but with serious eyes.
小犬目光,威氣逼人。
Again, why the focus on the youth and the silent gaze of the Chinese-typed dog?
The aristocratic Pekingese dog from the Chinese palaces.
前中國皇宮豢養之北京犬,貴族優美。
See my note above about the zhongquan. I do find this nice-looking Peke to be very unlike the mop that dusted off the Crufts Best in Show trophy in 2003.
The English Bulldog, the national symbol, is all concentrated, massive, steady power.
英叭喇狗,果敢,堅毅,活畫出英國之民族性。
The hairy Bobtail.
長毛截尾犬。
The Old English Sheepdog.
The Scotch Terrier is a jolly fellow.
蘇格蘭獵犬,蠢蠢欲勭。The Scottish Terrier, wriggling and feisty.
Another hairy Skye Terrier.
鬚髮不修,居服歟?抑名士歟?
This final caption sticks out to me the most.
Two Japanese Chins.
兩日本小犬,瞧牠的小器的陰險的神氣! (Chinese text found on first page) Two little Japanese dogs. Check out their mean, treacherous demeanor!
It seems obvious from the selectively truncated English translation that someone didn’t feel like going where the Chinese caption went. However, what is also notable to me is this: outside of Japan, nobody else saw the Nihon ken as distinctively Japanese dogs — yet. What gets codified here as a “Japanese” dog is the toy of dubiously foreign origin, whose fragile, bug-eyed, brachycephalic visage is almost the complete opposite of what would later become enshrined as the native, more lupine “ideal.”
In fact, the concept of canine primitiveness doesn’t even seem to factor into the construction of this layout at all. It’s less important that the Chow Chow looks the most wolf-life of any of these featured breeds than it is that the Chow is described as a hungry puppy. The most wild-looking creature is meant to evoke instant pity, even as it seems incredibly out of place with the rest of the gallery. Contrast this to the Chin pups, who are labeled as inherently suspicious (and also opposed to the “young but serious” Peke puppy), and the editors’ agenda is as exposed as Chiang Kai-shek’s forehead.
Sometimes mere frivolity is the only way to let off steam.
Film:The Day the Dogs Disappeared [Inu no kieta hi 犬の消えた日] Director: OTSUKA Kyoji 大塚恭司 Performers: ARAKAWA Chika 荒川ちか, NISHIJIMA Hidetoshi 西島秀俊, DAN Rei 壇れい, Biina ビーナ (German Shepherd), Ichigo イチゴ (Shiba), Koyuki コユキ (Shiba pup) Breeds featured: Shiba Inu, German Shepherd, West Highland White Terrier (briefly) Production Information: Nippon Television Network Corporation (NTV), 2011 (Japan)
Matsukura Shuhei (Nishijima Hidetoshi) comes from a line of craftsmen. While he supports his family and craftsmen as the head of the household, he wishes for Japan’s victory in the Pacific War. However, when he decides to comply with an order to citizens to present their domesticated dogs and cats for the supply of the animals’ fur for winter clothes that would relieve the cold in the battlefields, he meets with bitter opposition from his wife, Shizuko (Dan Rei) and their only daughter, Sayoko (Arakawa Chika). The dogs Alf and Toa are family, and the air at home is strained with a sense of disquiet. As Shuhei agonises over the extreme choice he is being forced to make, he reminds himself to face hard reality …
Within the frame of patriotism and wartime honor is the most aggressively Pacifist drama I’ve seen in a while, centered on the home. Using the figure of the dog as family member — at least on par with women and children — the story presents a different kind of front worth fighting for, one that requires not military, but emotional struggles and transformation to overcome. The moral conclusion is that dogs (like children) are too innocent to knowingly participate in the war, and in the name of that innocence, it is the rightful duty of the family patriarch to protect, not to sacrifice, his own.
Since the copy I watched was unsubbed, and I am not fluent in Japanese, I was missing a lot. Nevertheless, the story itself is formulaic enough that I could figure it out. You’ve got all the usual suspects — first, a young girl, Sayoko, and a German Shepherd, Alf, whom she loves very much.
When her father heeds the patriotic call of duty and enlists Alf into the war, it happens so suddenly that Sayoko barely has time to react. But it obviously sucks, so her parents get her a puppy to replace Alf.
The second dog, triumphantly named Toa 東亜 or “East Asia” to capture the nationalistic sentiments of the Greater East Asian Co-Prosperity Sphere, soon grows into a beautiful, fluffy adult Shiba Inu. Aww… But duty calls once again, and Mr. Matsukura, unable to join the army himself, is hellbent on sending a proxy to the warfront. So he orders his daughter to march Toa to the local police station, and turn him in herself.
This is where shit gets real, as Sayoko learns the awful truth that her pet Shiba is not going to serve as another noble war dog, like Alf. Instead, the whole courtyard full of adorable little full-coated Nihon ken (and one random Airedale) is going to be slaughtered to make kawagoromo — FUR COATS for the Japanese soldiers.
Kawagoromo?! Nooooo!!!
It takes a pretty tough heart to sit through the next hour as Sayoko parts with her dog and the entire family learns the true brutality of war, even as they remain on the homefront. Mercifully, there is no real violence depicted to the animals, and the most physically painful events are reserved for human bodies. The emotional toll of war is depicted clearly through the eyes of the young girl and the sensitive, watchful Shiba.
TV production values being what they are, I wasn’t expecting too much from this movie. It was a pleasant surprise to see some rare archival footage to counterbalance the incongruous veneer of the digital video. There are several iconic images of loyal dog Hachiko that show up in every written account. However, I didn’t know that there were also moving images and newsreels! You get just two tantalizing seconds of Hachiko footage right at the beginning, as well as clips of the famous Karafuto sled dogs.
Hachiko moves!
Footage of other Japanese war dog draftees is interspersed throughout the narrative.
This shot was especially touching to me: a blurry half-second of a dog loving up his owner like any other day, not realizing that he’s actually saying farewell. A break in the austerity of this send-off ceremony. The gloved hand of the military officer pressing down on his hips contrasts sharply against the lady’s soft embrace.
If there’s one thing I appreciate about this movie, it’s the way it self-consciously embeds itself amongst historical artifacts; the warmth of the story speaks to this moment in time, even as it testifies to a bleak past. Along with these documentary clips, they also present material evidence of the times. Here is a circular announcing the campaign to collect household “donations” of dogs to the war.
I never thought before about how one of the kanji for donation/contribution, ken 献, is homophonous with ken for dogs and also incorporates the 犬 graph, as if dogs have always been encoded into the idea of sacrifice. Anyway, nowhere on the circular does it state that the “splendid” service these dogs could provide would come in the form of fur-lined coats.
So were dogs truly in danger of being exterminated by wartime rhetoric? The prefatory narration threatens that this might have been so, though the fictive evidence marshaled here vehemently decries that possibility. But what of the Japanese dog in particular? Well, that’s a crisis scenario that extends beyond the timeline of the war, and does not concern this story. Rather, Inu no kieta hi pleads for a more universal respect for life itself, making no distinction between animal and human, let alone inu and Nihon ken.
Perhaps the day that dogs disappear is the day their status is elevated from an inferior to a familiar position, such that the category of “dog” as a disposable creature ceases to be acceptable.
Megaprops to Michael W. who pointed me in the direction of this download link, and helped fill in some of my questions.
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