One would probably not cite Wes Anderson as an all-too subtle filmmaker. His style is loud, freakishly consistent, and oddly mesmerizing. Nonetheless, it is too easy to confuse Anderson’s frankness for a lack of emotional truth or nuance. Thinking about how Anderson expresses emotion is realizing a very unique, but strange juxtaposition, between specificity and broad strokes, nuance and bluntness. Examine, briefly, Richie Tenenbaum’s bathroom scene in The Royal Tenenbaums (2001). In this scene Richie goes into the bathroom and cuts himself before being rushed to the hospital. On the one hand, the scene is overwhelmingly blue. An Elliot Smith song plays in the background. He whispers to himself that he’s going to kill himself. The blood flows out over his palms and the sink. It’s clear. It’s honest. And it’s not subtle. Richie Tenenbaum is sad and nearly kills himself. But at the same time there’s enough there to argue for its subtlety. He doesn’t just march in and slit his wrists. His mannerisms are firm. He looks in the mirror at us and we look back at him. There’s a confidence there. A certainty. He shaves himself, almost as a symbol of self-purification (the cutting of one’s hair in media often symbolizes a major character change). We look at all his messy hair spread about as his hands rest firmly over the sink so it’ll catch the blood. When he falls to the side he doesn’t just collapse. He sets himself down on the floor, quiet and maintaining the same degree of stark solidity in his face as he maintains for the entirety of the scene. This scene is a microcosm for part of what makes Anderson great. He takes the broadest strokes of what makes certain emotional elements plain and specific ones that only he could’ve really come up with and places them side-by-side. You can see this all across his work like say from when Zero tells Gustave the tribulations he had gone through as the result of being an immigrant, in Grand Budapest Hotel (2014). Or, when Mrs. Fox loses her temper and slashes Mr. Fox after he endangers their family in Fantastic Mr. Fox (2009). The latter is a great example for subverting expectations making it as funny as it is sad. It’s two parents getting in a fight, but instead of yelling Mrs. Fox just admits she’s going to lose her temper and bluntly slashes Mr. Fox. There’s no back-and-forth aggression or over-the-top arguing. It’s a scene some might know all too well but told with the blunt specificity only Anderson could deliver.
And so that brings us to 2018’s Isle of Dogs. I’d be hard-pressed to say Anderson never considers where he sets his films. In Rushmore (1998), for instance, we get a healthy dose of all the clubs Max is involved in at his school and over the course of the film become thoroughly familiar with the place as much as its inhabitants. In Fantastic Mr. Fox (2009) there’s discussion of real-estate, local grouches, the local economy, etc. His locales are his own and they are explored thoroughly. Not to mention the care Anderson always has for making his settings unique. No Anderson setting, even if it has clear, real-world ties, looks like any real-world setting. And that’s where the complications begin with Anderson’s latest feature. As critic Justin Chang of the LA Times points out “the weakness for racial stereotyping that has sometimes marred his work comes to the fore.” Most damning of Chang’s points comes at the use of language. While there are a handful of English speakers in the film the setting is a Japanese one, the retro-future city of Megasaki. Furthermore, the Japanese characters speak in their native language as do the English ones (the dogs also speak English). Chang points out “all these coy linguistic layers amount to their own form of marginalization, effectively reducing the hapless, unsuspecting people of Megasaki to foreigners in their own city.” So, it becomes clear very quickly that where the film struggles is in depicting a people white viewers can understand with more complexity and nuance to their behavior as well as a place with more visual nuance as well. Many common cultural icons appear in Megasaki including sushi, sumo, robots, pagodas and of course, Mt. Fuji. And so, the bluntness I discussed in Anderson’s stylistic dichotomy of loud and soft, is very much present and the latter is sorely lost, especially for those who desire a more complex and well-researched depiction of their home and culture.
But Anderson’s nuance is not entirely lost. And, what Megasaki represents is maybe more than just Anderson’s all-too-recognizable vision of Japan. The story reflects a lot of the political discourse in the US. A too-angry dictatorial mayor with shady business ties deports the lowly canine population to a trash island out of historical anxiety towards said house pets (the mayor and his family prefer cats). So, with that in mind what Megasaki becomes is not only a fictional Japanese city but a microcosm for the contemporary US. And, the characters we understand verbally in the film are the foreigners to the film’s setting, a white exchange student and the dogs (who are not technically a native animal but nonetheless have their own place in Megasaki). And, not only that, but the main character is a young Japanese boy seeking to save his guard dog Spots by journeying to trash island. The dog characters in the film seek to aid the boy along with a grouchy stray named Chief. All but Chief serve as the boy’s translators so we the audience can understand him verbally, but halfway through the film they all get separated from the boy while Chief remains. Chief prefers the mentality of keeping to oneself. But, as he’s forced to spend time with the boy in the other dogs’ absences, he learns how to communicate with him, and since he doesn’t speak his language not with words, but with actions. The boy, for instance gives Chief a bath and a doggie snack (which he was saving for his dog Spots) and throws him a bone (figuratively and literally even though literally it’s actually a piece of rubber tubing). So, the precedent for meaningful communication comes through action and not just words. And thus, it is with the actions of the boy Atari and the exchange student Tracy that they save the dogs of Megasaki. It becomes more than just a story of saving a dog, Spots, but saving all the dogs.
But all this doting upon American politics has hardly anything to do with the literal, real-world Japan. And in that sense, it is not the real-world Japan. It is the Japan Anderson has cited from the movies he has come to love from the likes of Miyazaki Hayao and Kurosawa Akira (he also apparently visited Japan for the film). So, what it amounts to is not the Japan, but a Japan; one which only exists in the mind of Anderson. And, to be fair it is not without its intricacies. Take for instance the scene where the chef prepares the scientist Watanabe’s dinner, or the scenes of the mayoral council with the lavish paintings behind each member, or the beautiful cityscape. It’s difficult, because there was clearly a lot of pain-staking effort that went in to designing and bringing to life the fictional city of Megasaki. So, where do you draw that line of good representation and bad representation? When is cultural appropriation no longer done with dignity or understanding but with ignorance or outright disrespect? The truth is that clear delineation between good and bad does not exist. Some people were very fairly made to feel uncomfortable by Anderson’s idea of Japan. Others, weren’t. What I think one must keep in mind though is that while Anderson’s vision of the place is not representative of Japan it is extremely accurate (at least by my estimation) to what Anderson loves about Japan. And, Anderson, at least, did not get his ideas about Japan solely from a white-centric source but straight from Japanese filmmakers, one who’s works audiences from both Japan and America love and respect. To be fair though, respecting a culture through depiction and through love of its products are not the same thing. So, while Anderson might love what components of Japan he loves and have a deep and nuanced understanding of that love, one cannot dismiss entirely how that collides with the sophistication of the real-world Japan, and the difficulty one has in depicting said place even if it’s just an idea of that place and not the place itself. And one could so easily say he simply did not mean to make a real-world Japan, but just his own vision and that should be good enough, it neglects the context the movie exists in. It is a white man depicting a historically oppressed culture from his own culture’s vantage point. And for some people, that is not ok, and how he depicted it did not help. So, while I admittedly love the man and the film, it is neither fair nor correct of me to dismiss the people who did not like it for very valid reasons nor the shortcomings of the film to juggle crafting a unique setting and depicting a real-world one. I myself grew up with a half-Japanese mom who emigrated from Japan as a young girl and grew up in a distinctly Japanese household by virtue of having a 100% Japanese mom and a father who wasn’t there. I watched the film with her, and she enjoyed it, as did I. What I and my mom love about Japanese culture is not too different from what Anderson loves about it. The film is appropriately enough about unconditional love. Love a boy has for his dog and dog-kind and love dogs have for mankind, all out of good will and not for any contrived reason. It’s about extending your hand to another people you might not understand verbally, but emotionally, there’s much less of a distinction. And sure, that’s not a new theme, but it’s one which I hope outlives the films failures. The question is, is love enough? When is it love and when is it ignorance? I wish for the life of me that question had a simple answer, but I believe just as Anderson has proven again and again, it is a matter of loud and soft, bluntness and nuance, emotional truth and questions left forever unanswered.
Sources:
https://japantoday.com/category/features/opinions/is-japan-really-racist
https://www.nippon.com/en/column/g00547/isle-of-dogs-a-view-from-japan.html
https://www.vulture.com/2018/03/what-its-like-to-watch-isle-of-dogs-as-a-japanese-speaker.html
https://www.latimes.com/entertainment/movies/la-et-mn-isle-of-dogs-review-20180321-story.html
Wow what a sophisticated and enthralling read! It’s interesting to take a look at the fine line between cultural appropriation and appreciation especially when it comes to Anderson’s works. When an artist depicts their version of a culture, like you said, it’s easy to dismiss it as appreciation for the aforementioned culture; but it’s also all too easy to consciously, or even unconsciously, be appropriating culture through one’s art. The most difficult consequence of works such as these is when the presented culture starts to be defined by the art that was meant to be subjective rather than objective. I thoroughly enjoyed reading this and believe it was a well written piece.
Hello Tyler!
This was a great read and super in depth. I loved how much analyzation and thought went into this. I agree with your response to, “When is cultural appropriation no longer done with dignity or understanding but with ignorance or outright disrespect?” Everyone has a different way of reacting to cultural appropriation. For example, in class when Professor showed the TV shows about cultural appropriation against Muslims, everyone in class had a different reaction. In the same way, it would be hard Anderson’s vision to be accepted by all. His vision of Japan might have been the same to some, but not others. I really enjoyed reading this piece!
I have never heard of Isle of Dogs or Wes Anderson before reading this article and you did a great job of explaining the movie and Wes Anderson’s previous work. As someone who grew up in St. Louis, Missouri, a primarily Caucasian/African-American area, I understand how cultural appropriation is often twisted by media and wrongly interpreted. I liked your points on how unconditional love is love not based off any benefit or sound-logic, it is based off of less contrived things.
Hey Tyler! This was a very interesting take on the film. As a lover of Wes Anderson myself, I did question some of his decisions with Isle of Dogs, specifically with the depiction of Japan and its people. I never thought about how Megasaki is kind of Anderson’s idealized likings of Japan, rather than a go at something accurate. Additionally, the possible parallel of Megasaki and its government to the state of the current USA government was something I never considered, and honestly, I can kind of see it now that you mention it (it would be very fascinating if confirmed true). While I don’t necessarily think that it is right for Anderson to depict a country and its people solely on aspects HE wants to include, it is quite interesting, and more complex than I originally thought.
Hi Tyler!
First off amazing piece, the flow of this reading was super smooth (even with your fancy word choices). I actually wrote a paper on cultural appropriation and dance last semester. During my research I came across the example that wearing a head piece like native Americans on top of a silver bra when going to Coachella is disrespectful to the artifact’s meaning of war and suffering. However, learning Yoga with all of its philosophy and spirituality, but believing in another religion is okay. Especially with art, or film, or any creative medium, you can’t help but be influenced by many things in the world. With the world becoming more and more globalized and connected it is inevitable to be inspired by other cultures, especially the ones we admire. So I guess the point is the intention behind, and being thoughtful and knowledgeable of the culture we are borrowing from and how they might be affected as a result. Also, another point I want to address people have different opinions on cultural appropriation, and some can take it very personally, and I think this has much to do with history. As an international student who grew up on another continent with very different demographics I can say that most times a film, or performance raises huge debates about appropriation, it’s only in the US. Take Mozart’s Turkish March for instance. He borrowed our war banter’s music to create this world-renowned piece. For as long as I know the Turkish has taken pride in the fact that he liked our culture so much as to create such art.
Dude that’s kind of nuts I had no idea about these examples you brought up haha. I feel like it’s really shaky sometimes but it really does end up being about how what you do impacts people and whether or not they take it offensively or like we saw in class are mistreated by other people using cultural appropriation (talking about Apu here) to terrorize people of a particular race/ethnicity/gender etc. And I think that’s really interesting because not all cultures like you bring up with Turkey will feel universally the same about everything and what it probably comes down to is just being aware of the individual identities of people and about what those entail and how we can properly learn and grow from one another, keeping those identities in mind. I really thought the stuff you brought up was interesting though.
Hi Tyler,
Great piece you wrote! I have never watched “Isle of Dogs” before, but you did a great job at giving background to Wes Anderson’s style and examples from his movies. Cultural appropriation and cultural appreciation are a fine line at times when looking at it. And some people who are of the subject may be offended an some may not be, but just because one person of a marginalized group isn’t offended doesn’t mean it isn’t offensive. I liked how you put your own personal take on the movie with your mom and acknowledgment of that fact. I totally agree with the fact that Wes Anderson could have good intentions-to culturally appreciate Japan- but that doesn’t mean he executed that perfectly. It is hard to fully encapsulate the culture one is trying to represent, nonetheless in a movie, and as an affect can be muddled down. But, that doesn’t mean it wasn’t in best intentions.
I really enjoyed the insights and how well thought out this topic was. I haven’t seen many Wes Anderson’s films, but I did watch Isle of Dogs and I loved it. I think as far as cultural appropriation goes, I personally didn’t tie it to him trying to depict a Japan that exists rather an impression of Japan the director has and also fanciful things from the rich culture. I think the film did great justice to the location and still created a world unique to the film as well. His style is quirky and direct and your examples make me want to reach out and see more of his work. I appreciate your take on the content.
Tyler,
I really enjoyed reading your analysis of this film because I personally hadn’t considered how Anderson’s depiction of Megasaki reflects patterns found in US politics/social life. Similar to the comments above, I think it would have been nice to see Anderson include elements of Japan that people might not know about. I personally don’t consider Isle of Dogs to be appropriating Japanese culture in an exploitative way. Rather I think the film uses Japanese culture as a vehicle to make its characters and story feel like they belong/give them greater depth. However, I wish Anderson would have included aspects of Japanese culture that are not commonly known to audiences in the US. As you say, since he gave so much care to creating the setting in a way that is immersive for the audience, I think he could have chosen to give Japanese culture greater depth as well. Instead of just using aspects such as sumo and sushi, I think Anderson missed out on the opportunity to educate audiences on other aspects of Japanese culture/life.
This was really interesting to read and I think you nailed the general problem with misrepresentation today. What’s the difference between love and ignorance and where is the line drawn? With society at large wanting creators to seak original, thought-provoking, diverse characters who represent multiple cultures ideologies and backgrounds, the consensus would be creative freedom to explore different stories.
But the problem arises if it’s not your own personal story to tell then what gives one the right to tell it? Like Wes Anderson making a movie set in Japan and depicting Japan as he imagines it to be, not how it actually is, as you described. On one hand, he is depicting a culture and creating a story that’s not his own. That doesn’t organically come from his own individual experience which is misrepresentative of actual Japan, on the other hand, had he not created this film: it wouldn’t exist.
We talk a lot about the problems we see in animation but not about how to try and fix those problems; we as creators might mistakenly create more problems when we depict stories that are not our own. I’d agree with you by saying that intent and love, are important for representing a culture, people or nation that’s not your own.
For everyone has differing perspectives and opinions whether their creating stories or just viewing them. Wes Anderson’s depiction of Japan obviously will be a different depiction of Japan than everyone else, including someone who is of Japanese origin. As a creator its important to come from a place of respect and love but it would be a shame for people not to take a risk and portray a story, otherwise it will simply never be made.
Dude, Tyler – super cool read! Your article is amazingly written, and I am so intrigued about your thoughts on the cultural representation / misrepresentation of Japan in Isle of Dogs. Something you said stuck out to me though – “Respecting a culture through depiction and through love of its products are not the same thing.” I wholeheartedly agree with this. Being a filmmaker, it is almost a tightrope walk when faced with the responsibility of depicting a specific culture. I have a friend who does not like Isle of Dogs precisely because of Anderson’s interpretation of Japan. While I can see both sides, I lean more towards the idea that his representation is not entirely positive. Thank you for sharing this article!