Film:Snow Prince: Forbidden Love Melody [Sunō Purinsu: Kinjirareta koi no merodii スノープリンス 禁じられた恋のメロディ] Director: MATSUOKA Joji 松岡 錠司 Performers: MORIMOTO Shintaro 森本 慎太郎, KUWASHIMA Marino 桑島 真理乃, TADANOBU Asano 浅野 忠信, Chibi チビ (Patrasche the dog, now Chibi the Akita) Breed featured: Japanese Akita, Miniature Poodles (brief) Dog Trainer: MIYA Tadaomi 宮 忠臣 Assistant Dog Trainer: SUGAWARA Takashi(?) 菅原 孝 Production: Shochiku, 2009 (Japan)
This Japanese version of A Dog of Flanders riffs off a British “puppy love” film called Melody (1971) by shifting the emphasis onto two childhood friends, Sota and Sayo, basically crowding Chibi the Japanese Akita out of the story. SPOILER, Notably, this filmic version was bold enough to follow the original story to its tragic end. / spoiler. That’s about the most I can say in its favor, as the film did very little to convey the essential relationships — boy+grandfather, boy+dog, boy+girl, children+dog, etc. — in anything but the most superficial terms.
It’s always disappointing when a movie features a “rare” breed dog, and then fails to render it with full personality. It’s especially egregious when the dog is supposed to play a much more central role, even featuring in the title of the (original) story! Ironically, a couple dramatic incidents hinge on the boy totally ignoring his dog’s warnings, thus imperiling himself and his friends. Cheap thrills to amp up otherwise muted performances.
Not that the Akita was the most, uhm, engaged actor, either.
Chibi the Akita was directed by Miya Tadaomi, the same dog trainer who handled Mari, Ururu, and just about every other Japanese dog film to come out in recent years. The mismatched eyelines and expressionless canine faces are about par for the course here, but the editing and camera work was especially deficient. Sometimes you can guess from the camera work whether or not a cinematographer actually understands canine body language. An inexperienced photographer will focus on the dog’s face to convey feeling in human, speech-centric terms.
However, dogs communicate using their whole body, head to tail, and they do so most effectively when there is an actual target of communication. That is, mutual interaction with other people, other dogs, and any other creatures, does the most to render animal personality in legible terms. Yet, the actors in Snow Prince seemed resistant to actually touching the dog.
The effect is to diminish the vivacity of the dog, in my opinion. I guess it’s “realistic” in the sense that the boy and his dog are supposed to be half-frozen and starving, but still! What a waste of a gorgeous, fluffy Akita that everyone should be tempted to pet and manhandle.
Asano Tadanobu has a minor, but pivotal role as a circus clown. I appreciate the touch of absurdity he brings to otherwise rote performances, even if his talents are wasted here.
Major squickiness also comes from the concept of “puppy love” and the discomfort of knowing that I’m supposed to be rooting for the ill-fated romance between Sota the pauper and Sayo the rich schoolgirl, but there is no good reason to do so. I know we’re supposed to think they’re so innocent and pure and asexual and blah blah blah, but I’m too cynical. I have no belief in innocent love, just ignorant love. Besides, kids that age are already capable of being really mean to each other, as the other schoolkids demonstrate.
But I’m curious as to what happens when we think of “puppy love” not as an anthropomorphism, but a cynomorphism. What we mean by the term is a fleeting, but intense attachment to another. It’s like when [some] puppies will orient themselves entirely towards their One Person, chosen primarily on the basis of proximity: Oh hey, you’re RIGHT THERE and I LOVE YOU.
Puppies are biologically wired to be people-oriented because they’re helpless and they literally might not live without you. Sorry, that’s not love. That’s sheer survival instinct kicking in when a baby has been violently wrest from its den, and it’s silly to conflate the situations. Don’t forget after all that the children found Chibi, abandoned as a puppy, because his mother had been flogged and worked to death.
Yeah, things were never innocent to begin with.
Anyway, if you have the ability to disengage the part of your brain that processes reality, maybe you’ll enjoy this film. But you’re going to have to identify with something other than the dog… or any of the main characters, because there’s just not much there.
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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.
Film: The Tale of Mari and Her Three Puppies [Mari to sanbiki koinu no monogatari マリと三匹子犬の物語] Director: INOMATA Ryuichi 猪股隆一 Performers: FUNAKOSHI Eichiro 船越英一郎, HIROTA Ryouhei 広田亮平, SASAKI Mao 佐々木麻緒 Breed featured: Shiba Inu Production information: NTV/Toho, 2007 (Japan)
A friend was poking fun at my dog-crazedness when he asked me to name a dog movie that I actually disliked. While I can babble about flawed films, I hope it’s apparent that I don’t give a free pass to anything I watch just because it has a dog! Or a Shiba, for that matter… I’ve long refrained from reviewing The Tale of Mari and the Three Puppies, for instance, because everyone expects me to just adore it. My high hopes, however, led me elsewhere by the end credits.
The title character Mari is based on a real-life Shiba bitch who survived the 2004 Niigata Earthquake, led rescuers to her family of human survivors trapped beneath the collapsed house, and then was abandoned to fend for herself and her three newborn puppies. Despite her heroism, she is repaid with betrayal, simply because she is a non-priority being — a mere dog. The sanctity of family unity becomes sanctimony when deliberately rent asunder by this act of moral injustice. This is not the type of raw deal that a Shiba can sink her teeth into…
So Mari has to learn how to survive aftershocks, hunger, crows, and the elements until rescue teams are finally able to safely escort civilians back to the wreckage.
real life Mari and her puppies, from the film’s closing credits
For the Japanese, constantly beset by earthquakes, tsunamis, and the threat of nuclear catastrophe, this leap from disaster to drama is never so distant. Portrayals of crisis are part of an ongoing process of psychological mobilization, serving as important mental drills supplementing physical survival kits. Shifting the stakes onto the bodies of animals abstracts the threat just one level further, even as the drama assumes anthropocentric turns.
The Tale of Mari and Her Three Puppies works through the theme of disaster in two classic modes, as a maternal melodrama and a modernization narrative about country vs. city. Unfortunately, the movie does neither particularly well, and fails even to live up to its premise as a dog-centric story.
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:A Tale of Ururu’s Forest, a.k.a. A Tale of Ululu’s Wonderful Forest [Ururu no mori no monogatari ウルルの森の物語] Director: NAGANUMA Makoto 長沼誠 Performers: FUNAKOSHI Eiichiro 船越英一郎, FUKADA Kyoko 深田恭子, KITAMURA Sara 北村沙羅, KUWASHIRO Takaaki 桑代貴明, Ururu ウルル Breeds featured: Wolf dog, Border Collie (very briefly) Production information: Toho, 2009 (Japan)
When their mother is hospitalized, young Shizuku and her older brother Subaru are sent to live with their father, a wildlife preservationist in rural Hokkaido. Initially, it’s a bit of a culture shock adjusting to the new environment and their estranged father. But they are soon taken in by the wonders of nature when they discover a stray, wolf-like puppy in the woods. Shizuku decides to name him Ururu, based on her mispronunciation of the English loan word urufu for wolf. This mistranslation is rather fitting, as nobody is quite sure what he is. After some poking and prodding, DNA tests come back to suggest that Ururu might be a live specimen of an Ezo okami or Hokkaido wolf, an indigenous Japanese wolf thought to have been extinct for over a hundred years.
Never mind that the pup does not look anything like a Japanese wolf — but I think the film banks on the fact that the audience has little exposure to wolves, nor much of anything truly wild. This point is hammered home pretty forcefully, as it underpins the ethical message of the whole story. As the father says, “We have to avoid each other. Then humans and wildlife can both live. […] ‘Born wild, remain wild.’ That is the rule of nature.”
But scientists apparently get to bypass that dictum in the name of advancing knowledge. A molecular biologist friend intervenes to remove “Specimen 01,” as renamed, for further study. The idea horrifies the children, who want to see the pup reunited with his mother. So they decide to sneak Ururu out of the preservation center and embark on a journey to find the mythical Kingdom of Wolves, led by little but a hand-drawn map pulled from a storybook, and their faith that this is the right thing to do.
Basically, it’s E.T. with a fluffy little wolf dog instead of a wrinkly rubber alien, and the extraterrestrial has been internalized and domesticated — then released to repopulate this world with magic.
Given the contentious nature of wolf reintroduction programs in Japan, I was very curious about the dog star and the film’s reception. Unfortunately, I’ve been able to uncover very little information about Ururu’s background. The film’s official website is rather barren. Information drawn from Toho Films and variouspress releases say he was a 40-day-old hybrid pup recruited for the part. Given his age, I wonder if he was imported or born in Japan, possibly extracted from some wolf breeding and management program in Hokkaido.
I was able to find information about a dog trainer, MIYA Tadaomi 宮忠臣, who has served as the primary animal handler for numerous Japanese films. This link suggests that the full-grown Ururu now lives in a petting zoo located in Wakkanai, Hokkaido. Other residents of this place include the Akita from Stargazing Dog and the Shiba from The Tale of Mari and Her Three Puppies [two films queued for review on my never-ending list]. Kind of depressing that these dog stars don’t get to retire to pet homes after their one hit, but instead are put behind bars and displayed… that is, for anyone who cares to venture waaay out to the northernmost city in Japan.
In summary, it’s a mediocre film that gives too much screentime to the child actors and not enough effort in unpacking its own romanticized eco-agenda (as well-intentioned as it seems) or providing meaningful follow-up. Nevertheless, I thought it worth considering how the figure of the wolf is localized and packaged for mass consumption, given that their extinction has been the historical burden for longer than films have documented and mythologized their absence.
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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.
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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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.
Film: Quill [Kuiiru クイール] Director: SAI Yoichi 崔洋一 Performers: KOBAYASHI Kaoru 小林薫, SHIINA Kippei 椎名桔平, Rafie ラフィー (adult Quill), Chibichibiku チビチビクー (baby Quill), Beat ビート & Chibiku チビクー (puppy Quill at 3 and 7 months, respectively), Eri エリ (senior Quill) Production Information: Quill Film Partners, 2004 (Japan) Breed(s) featured: Labrador Retriever, Golden Retriever (briefly, at the training center)
Meet the face that launched a thousand puppy sales.
This is the face of Quill, a Labrador Retriever with a curious birthmark and selected by his breeder to be a seeing eye dog. Despite some initial resistance from the directors at the training center (since candidates usually come from pre-approved breeders), he is enrolled into their guide dog program. The film follows Quill through his early socialization with a foster family, his adolescent training period, and his brief working relationship with his one and only master before tragedy ends his career as a personal guide dog. Instead, he lives out the remainder of his adulthood at the training center as an ambassador and demonstration dog, finally returning to the foster family who shared his first year in the world, and sees him through to his final hours.
WARNING!! SPOILERS AHEAD!!
For a dog film, it’s relatively understated and unsentimental (though the soundtrack leaves much to be desired). Given the director’s background working alongside revered “art” director OSHIMA Nagisa and his own brutal work in films like Blood and Bones (released the same year, starring Beat Takeshi) Sai seemed a surprising choice to direct… a dog film. But inspiration often comes from unlikely sources. Quill works because Sai is adept at teasing out character quirks, especially from flawed personalities. This is relevant to the blind, cantankerous, yet civic-minded Mr. Watanabe (KOBAYASHI Kaoru) who is paired up with the title character when he begrudgingly trades in his white cane for a guide dog after trainer Satoru Tawada (SHINA Kippei) convinces him that he’ll be able to get more done with Quill at his side, rather than fumbling along with his cane.
I also have to give props to the choice in casting Kippei Shiina as the guide dog handler. Since the training process itself is already in danger of being portrayed in an overly fictionalized manner (more about this in a second), it’s reassuring that they at least chose one actor whose body language conveys cool confidence and ease around the many dogs with whom he shares scenes (rather in contrast to Kobayashi). As a handler, Tawada-san is firm, but not harsh. Authoritative, but not authoritarian, if that makes sense. He observes the dogs just as much as they are trained to watch their masters, and this crucial detail makes all the difference in persuading me that the dogs bond to their people over the course of working — not just as “living props,” but as canine actors who adapt to their environment, even when it’s a movie set.
This is a detail that a lot of dog film directors overlook when casting and filming. Audience eyes aren’t just on the dog. Particularly for audiences who know and are already intimately familiar with that relationship, they’re looking for the ways in which the dogs and the humans behave together, as it’s that mutual chemistry that gives emotional drive to the story.
For this film, its charm and novelty was that its main canine star was both cute and functional. The idea of a seeing eye dog is still relatively fresh in Asia. The Kansai Guide Dog Training Center, where this was partially filmed, was erected in 1988, and currently manages to train about 15 dogs a year. The Taiwan Guide Dog Association was only founded in 2002, just two years before Quill hit my corner of the world, and unfortunately, sparked a boom for Labrador puppies who grew far too large for most small urban apartment dwellers. Consequently, the lengthy training sequences serve double duty: they work to reveal something about the characters, and also to familiarize audiences with the idea of a highly trained working companion dog.
In the end, I think the film does a good, though not perfect job straddling both documentary and dramatic functions. What I find to be the most strange, I suppose, is the way that time elapses in the film. A lot of training procedures that are most certainly quite specialized and tedious are elided or simplified for the sake of moving the plot along. The one gem of a training philosophy to be extracted from this film is that the more you learn to listen to your dog, the more your dog will listen to you. If an audience member picks up any training tricks from this film (and there’s very little offered up for meaningful mimicry) it’s probably this dumbed down notion that it’s easy, almost effortless, to turn any “ordinary” Labrador into a highly specialized working dog.
Of course, not all dogs are similarly responsive, nor are they given the benefits of working with a full-time handler. The fictional democratization of the guide dog training process, as it were, is precisely what imperiled so many Lab puppies after the film’s highly successful run all throughout Asia, such that the subsequent release of any dog film, particularly one featuring purebred dogs, is boycotted by animal lovers hoping to stave off the “Quill effect.” At least, this is one of the films to which such boycotts are pegged in Asian countries; pet ownership wasn’t necessarily in popular reach when 101 Dalmatians was released in either 1961 or 1996, which is the title that generally gets referenced for cautionary linkages between dog films and purebred fads in the Western world.
Finally, I was a little dissatisfied with the treatment of Quill’s final years. Audience members who had already read the best-selling novel and knew portions of the story from the TV series that preceded the movie are not at all surprised by the eventual death of Mr. Watanabe, though their last goodbye is no less tragic. This sequence is very moving and portrayed with appropriate succinctness, keeping melodrama at bay.
I’m not sure if I can say the same for Quill’s death, which is drawn out over the final 3 minutes of the film. The CGI rendering of the accident that cripples the poor senior dog and the weepy dialogue was really too much for me, in combination with the all too perfectly scripted karmic circularity of Quill returning to the “puppy walkers” of his childhood. “It was like he never left our home,” narrates the woman who had been his first foster parent.
But the whole point is that Quill had left, and had a long lifetime of experiences at the training center, with the Watanabe family, then back at the training center after the family surrendered him following Mr. Watanabe’s death. Quill had been in his prime when he was ended his career as a personal guide dog, but he did not retire from the center until he was 12 years old. Maybe nothing nearly as dramatic happened in those intervening years, but by collapsing an entire seven years of his life into 5 minutes, we lose sense of just how long a dog lives, and just how large of a responsibility that may be. Though it was beautiful and fitting that Quill was assured such a perfect safety net in his senior years, the end seems too much like a fairy tale. They really wanted to give the audience a final chance to turn on the waterworks. Coupled with the glowing, larger-than-life flashback to Quill’s newborn visage right before the credits roll, it just seemed a bit like polishing off a hearty meal with a gulp of cotton candy. I’m not sure how they could have concluded the film to do justice to the lives portrayed, but in my opinion, the puppy parting shot wasn’t it.
Or maybe I’m the only one in the whole world who would dare resist the face of a Labrador puppy.
Acknowledgments go to Michael W., who sent me this DVD several years ago. Sometimes it takes that long to watch the films that I have in my possession, but I do get around to them all eventually. Meanwhile, Quill doesn’t appear to be available as a US release. YesAsia.com currently lists a Thai region-free DVD available here.
Edit: Fixed a couple instances where I typed La-BO-rador, even though I know that’s not how it’s spelled. Thinking in Japanese, I guess.
Today’s post is brought to you by our first guest blogger, Michael W. Michael’s path and mine have frequently crossed over the years due to a number of common interests, including our incurable cinephilia for both personal and academic enrichment. He currently resides in Japan, where he has access to all sorts of cool stuff, which he is always generously inclined to share.
Film:Snow Trail [Ginrei no hate 銀嶺の果て] Director: TANIGUCHI Senkichi 谷口 千吉 Performers: MIFUNE Toshirô, SHIMURA Takashi, WAKAYAMA Setsuko, KŌNO Akitake, KOSUGI Yoshio Production Information: Toho, 1947 (Japan) Breed: Hokkaido ken?*
After committing a robbery in Nagano, three thieves, Nojiri (Shimura), Ejima (Mifune), and Takasugi (Kosugi), make their way deep into the Japanese Alps in order to avoid pursuit by the police. However, they leave a number of glaring clues about their whereabouts, allowing the police to stay hot on their trail. After losing Takasugi in an avalanche, and thereby throwing the police off of their trail, the two remaining men luckily find a ski lodge operated by an old man and his young granddaughter. An expert mountain climber named Honda is there as well. Although safe for the time being at the lodge, tensions begin to rise between the gentler Nojiri and the hot-headed Ejima which leads to the two thieves and Honda attempting to cross over the snowy and deadly mountains.
Although Senkichi Taniguchi was a prolific director in his own right, this early postwar film will probably mainly appeal to film buffs for three reasons. The screenplay was written by the renowned director Akira Kurosawa, the film’s score was composed by Akira Ifukube of Godzilla fame, and it also marks Toshirô Mifune’s acting debut.
The film is a good work for its cinematography, creative use of black and white imagery, and for the chemistry between Shimura and Mifune who would share appearances in quite a number of Kurosawa’s films. However, and this just might be my personal taste, the acting of Setsuko Wakayama, who plays the granddaughter, is quite annoying, because she puts on a saccharine sweet performance of a “cute” six-year-old girl trapped in an eighteen-year-old woman’s body. Yet, her bubbly performance might have been a breath of fresh air to viewers watching this film in their war-ravaged archipelago.
Our four-legged friend belongs to a tracker who is attempting to locate the three thieves. Although the dog’s screen time is quite limited, the dog does play a major part in progressing the film’s narrative because his/her barks are what make the three thieves flee a shed in which they were seeking shelter. Also, the dog “causes” the death of the thief Takasugi because when the frightened man shoots at the dog, who he seemingly either grazes or misses, the loud gunshot causes an avalanche which kills him, but blocks the police from pursuing Nojiri and Ejima who were further ahead.
More important than the actual presence of the dog in this film is the sound of his barking. Not only does it make the thieves continuously move from their hiding positions, but it adds a certain tension to the film because it lets the thieves, as well as the viewer, know that the authorities are in close pursuit.
While not a masterpiece by any means, Snow Trail is a fun film that will particularly pique the interest of Mifune fans.
~ Michael W.
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* Despite the absence of pricked ears that are now written into the standard, we decided that a Hokkaido ken is the best approximate “breed” for this indigenous Japanese dog based on the coloration, size, function, and the geographic site of filming (Mount Hakuba in Hokkaido prefecture). It is not known who supplied the dog for the movie, but regardless, for the sake of this blog, it is interesting to regard this segment as an archived glimpse of post-war Nihon ken at work.
Film:Rainy Dog [Gokudô kuroshakai] Director: MIIKE Takashi Performers: AIKAWA Shô, CHEN Xianmei, GAO Mingjun, HE Jianxian, TAGUCHI Tomorowo Production Information: Daiei, 1997 (Japan) Breed featured: Taiwan mutt
Director Takashi Miike isn’t exactly known for his subtlety. His work often rubs me the wrong way, and there was a period of several years where I flat-out refused to watch his films. I’ve only been persuaded to give him a chance when there’s been the promise of something different, such as the anthropological exotica of The Bird People of China or the delirious musical revelry that was The Happiness of the Katakuris.
While Rainy Dog, the second in a disjointed trilogy narrating the violence and vagaries of yakuza life, is more in line with the “typical” Miike fare that I tend to snub, I had to see it for two simple reasons: 1) it was filmed on location in Taipei, and it’s always a thrill to see how foreign directors depict that city which I love so dearly, and 2) the English title contains the word “dog,” hinting at something that would be of thematic significance.
When one watches a lot of films, one is allowed to have arbitrary criteria when deciding what to bump up in the queue.
The story is simple enough. An exiled yakuza in Taiwan, Yuji, has a child dropped off at his apartment one day by a woman who claims that he’s the father. Not exactly pleased with this new responsibility, Yuji proceeds to tromp around Taipei on various assassination jobs oblivious to the kid shadowing him and witnessing each bloody hit. It’s not exactly Léon or Kikujiro, because the boy is unable to talk and his gangster father barely acknowledges his existence. There’s no emotional buildup or blossoming relationship because they just don’t interact. This wall of silence persists throughout the movie, as well as the torrential downpours that render the entire visual palette into shades of a depressing, industrial steel gray and blue.
In the eponymous scene, Miike almost achieves the trifecta of pitifulness: child, puppy… but not female. That’s okay; he still manages to milk every pathetic minute through stark montage. The child and puppy are abandoned outside in the rain, while his father is shacked up with a Taiwanese prostitute in a shabby but dry room. Between rounds, they replenish themselves with lip-smacking dishes, while the kid tears through garbage bags for a few greasy smears of leftover rice.
You’d think, in this rather heavy-handed sequence, the director could have spared us at least one gratuitous close-up of the puppy’s snorfling face. But alas, these low-quality screenshots were the best I could do.
At least Miike didn’t turn this tender moment around and strangle the puppy as he’s been known to do in other titles. The man’s not so nice to animals or hookers or, really, most living beings in his films. So maybe some dogs are better left out in the rain…
Film: Walking with the Dog [Inu to arukeba 犬とあるけば] Director: SHINOZAKI Makoto 篠崎誠 Performers: TANAKA Naoki 田中直樹, RYO りょう, FUJITA Yoko 藤田よこ, AOKI Tomio 青木富夫, Peace (shiba mix), Chirori (therapy mutt) Production Information: 2004 (Japan) Breeds featured: Shiba mix, Siberian Husky, mutts
Yasuyuki is an earnest but naive young man who gets dumped by his girlfriend the same day he picks up an abandoned Shiba mix, whom he names Tamura. He is immediately drawn to the smart little mutt, perhaps because they share a similar plight of being left behind by someone they loved. Though Yasuyuki is unemployed and barely able to fend for himself, he is inspired to help the dog. He jumps on an opportunity to enroll Tamura as a therapy dog with an organization that he heard about on the news. The training director is touched by Yasuyuki’s selflessness and gives them a place to stay and work, allowing both human and dog (and audience) the opportunity to learn about animal therapy work.
Meanwhile, Yasuyuki’s ex-girlfriend, Miwa, has returned home to take care of her granny and depressed younger sister while her mother is in hospice care. She has enough stress in her life without Yasuyuki’s attempts to get back together with her, so when he offers her Tamura’s assistance, she is skeptical at first. However, the good-natured little dog shows that he knows how to work the miracles she once expected of her boyfriend. Miwa and her family eventually come to understand the value of canine companionship, particularly the way that dogs can help enrich human relationships.
Hot on the heels of the Japanese blockbuster Quill, the story of a seeing eye Labrador (yes, it’s on my to-do list, when I finally feel emotionally steeled for it), this quiet little film barely raised any notice. While Walking with the Dog does unfortunately suffer from some problems with pacing and poor character development, I think it’s deserving of a closer look. If nothing else, it’s a tantalizing and honest contribution from Japanese animal advocates who are attempting to manifest a vision of humanitarian care akin to what they imagine is available in developed countries like the United States.
getting a feel for leash pops
Indeed, one of the sharpest angles about this film is the way that the American animal welfare system is unabashedly praised as a model for emulation. One scene where Yasuyuki’s friends are debating what to do about Tamura unfolds as follows:
Woman: I heard that when America had this problem of abandoned dogs… they set up a system specially for training these kinds of dogs.
Yasuyuki: Japan doesn’t have this kind of system?
Woman: Well, I don’t really know anything about that.
Yasuyuki: Where have I heard about this before…?
And that’s when he looks up at the television to see a news story on therapy dog star Chirori, wearing an American flag bandanna, and her trainer.
Toru Oki and Chirori, therapy dog star
This actually parallels the musical career of “Mr. Yellow Blues” man Toru OKI 大木トオル, who not only acts the role of the training director, but who is also a real-life spokesperson for the International Therapy Dog Association in Japan. Reflecting his performance practices (he was known for making a convincing show of Chicago blues sung entirely in English), Oki-sensei tells his therapy dog assistants to give commands in English, as the consonants of the Japanese language are too soft and muddled for proper instruction.
from the streets to the lap of luxury
therapy dog classes becoming more and more popular
The welcome mat at Oki’s training center is similarly bedecked in stars and stripes, and later in the film, when therapy dog work appears to be gaining popularity, new trainees are initiated under a banner that reads “Proud to Be An American.” So these overt gestures of American favoritism are hard to miss, but the appeals have less to do with toadying to the West than embracing an ideal of universal humanitarianism.
Chirori, therapy dog superstar
mobbed by a million elementary school kids
Ultimately, what is most touching and most captivating about this film are the unrehearsed encounters, the moments when these real life therapy dogs are working their magic at nursing homes and elementary schools. I admit that my eyes were more often on the dogs than the humans in such scenes, and there were times when I cringed when witnessing the mobs that these poor dogs must suffer in the name of teaching about empathy and compassion. But it’s all the more to their credit and their training that they never act out even in times of visible confusion and stress. The stub-legged mutt in particular, Chirori, is placid through it all, a true exemplar of what the calming presence of a dog can do.
The nursing home scenes are also notable for featuring veteran actor AOKI Tomio (below), whose film career spanned 1929 (!) to 2004, this being his final film. For fans of Japanese pop culture, two other prominent names make cameo appearances. KATAGARI Jin 片桐仁 of the comedy duo Rahmens ラーメンズ and YOSHIMURA Yumi of JPop duo Puffy Amiyumi appear as Yasuyuki’s quirky husband-in-law and pregnant sister.
cameo appearances by Katagiri Jin of Rahmens and Yumi of Puffy
Finally, Ryo, the actress who plays Yasuyuki’s girlfriend, is supposedly a pretty big deal from J-drama. However, I found her appearances to be tedious and unevocative, as befits her character, the emotionally frigid “strong woman” who is far too stoic for her own good. I have to admit that I sped through most of her scenes at double pace (thanks to the wonders of home DVD technology), including her climatic meltdown about three-quarters through the film which otherwise would have taken 8 whole minutes. That’s like a decade in filmic time. But apparently even that wasn’t compelling enough for me to get any screenshots of her, so you’ll just have to do without.
therapy dogs in training
Indeed, the stars of the show, as acknowledged in the film’s full title (Inu to arukeba: Chirori & Tamura) are the dogs, or more specifically, the mutts. And this is why it’s such a huge pity that Walking with the Dog was not a bigger hit in the same Asian regions that embraced Quill (Hong Kong, Taiwan, and of course Japan). Perhaps the abandonment scene that opens the film hit too close to home. I can’t speak of other countries, but I know that releasing unwanted dogs in open areas, instead of trying to properly rehome them, was and still remains common practice in Taiwan [cf. Hsu, et. al, “Dog Keeping in Taiwan: Its Contribution to the Problem of Free-Roaming Dogs,” Journal of Applied Animal Welfare 6.1 (2003): 1-23]. Perhaps audiences were revolted by the scene inside a Japanese animal shelter, which seemed relatively brief and sanitized to me, but may have presented too intrusive a dose of “reality” for audiences expecting more escapist fare.
Searching the shelters for his lost dog
Or perhaps the idea of a rescue mutt stripped of breed history or any back story with accompanying footage of puppy cuteness is just that radical, and has yet to catch on with mainstream audiences. To be fair, there are several moments that stretch the limits of credibility — for example, Yasuyuki’s complete willingness to claim responsibility for Tamura, even in the face of legal repercussions, and Oki-sensei’s quick decision to take them under his wing despite knowing so little about either of them. So it’s not like the audiences that “rejected” this film are discounting the gravity of the situation, since the story only has a tenuous basis in reality. But the most real characters here are the registered therapy dogs, all of them rescued. For me, the second chance given to every single one of those dogs on screen overshadows the general faults of this film, allowing me to be gentle on its shortcomings, and appraise it instead for its potential to inspire something greater.
Whatever the reasons for the commercial failure of this title, I am grateful to the filmmakers for bringing this story to screen, and would hate to see it fade into obscurity. At the time of this writing, maybe only the expensive Japanese version has English subtitles (it’s not clear to me according to the listing on Yesasia.com, but older titles on that site often suddenly go AWOL once you try to buy them). I watched a Taiwanese edition entitled 男人與流浪狗 (literally A Man and a Stray Dog) with original Japanese dialogue and Chinese subtitles.
Once you feed a stray, he'll never leave you alone
If you have any interest in Japanese society, therapy animals, or the way that dogs’ lives are narrated alongside everyday human drama, I’d say this is worth keeping an eye out for.