Stray Dog (1949)
An early Kurosawa film, made before he came to the attention of cinema enthusiasts with Rashomon. Toshiro Mifune plays a young detective whose pistol is stolen by a pickpocket. Fearing for his job, and fuelled by embarrassment he sets out to find his pistol, which has been used in two crimes by the thief, in Tokyo during a sweltering heatwave...
Kurosawa's western influences are as clear as ever in Stray Dog, as for all intents and purposes it plays like a conventional American police story. Several scenes reminded me of Orson Welles' later film Touch of Evil, particularly an extended montage sequence with a similar feel to the famous opening shot of Welles' film showing a disguised Mifune walking the streets as he attempts to track down blackmarket arms dealers accompanied by a cacophony of street noise and Latin-jazz-big band music. Another scene where Mifune and the older cop leading the investigation, played by Takashi Shimura, stakeout a Japanese Baseball game, could've been a Hitchcock set-piece. Elements of this film seem to have been referenced in a variety of contemporary works from the doppelganger criminal/detective idea in Michael Mann's Heat to John C Reilly's desperate search for his lost gun in Magnolia.
However, despite the references to conventional genre film, Kurosawa adds depth to his film with several philosophical themes and ideas. First is the subtle way in which the detective and the robber are shown to be connected. Mifune explains how his possessions were all stolen after the war, and that he contemplated turning to crime but decided on the opposite route of law enforcement. The robber, who ends up with Mifune's gun, commits the crimes exactly because he too had his bag of belongings stolen. Mifune feels a deep sense of guilt that his pistol has been used in these crimes and almost breaks down completely when his boss, Shimura, is shot and wounded. The idea resonates with Mifune, that the life of crime he managed to avoid has returned to his life through this chance occurrence. The robber himself, is only seen in the great final chase, but he is given surprising depth of character just in the chase alone. The final chase between the two men is a classic Kurosawa scene. In a tense moment, there is an instinctive reaction by both men that they've finally found each other. Mifune is shot in the arm, out in the countryside, as Mozart drifts from a piano in a nearby house. His blood drips onto the flowers below. The theme that the gun only has a certain number of bullets pays off, as the robber fires twice and misses, leaving the gun empty allowing Mifune to overpower him. The two men wrestle in the flowers, falling into a river and get covered in mud. The robber is eventually overpowered and handcuffed and Kurosawa composes a wonderful shot showing the two, unrecognisable and exhausted men arranged at either side of the frame in the foreground, like a mirror image, while a group of singing schoolchildren walk past in the background. The robber suddenly begins to cry, and howls in anguish. Identity is blurred, the robber is no more evil than the detective, just a weaker man who gave in to the difficult environment he was faced with.
Although some elements of the technique aren't as well developed as Kurosawa's most famous, such as the clumsy flashback intro and narration there are many moments which show the sign of the truly great filmmaker he was to become. The sense of oppressive environment, both place and weather, is strong and it's possibly the sweatiest film I've seen! The detective story itself is pretty compelling, but the final, climactic scene alone transcends simple genre film-making with something profound, poetic and moving.
An early Kurosawa film, made before he came to the attention of cinema enthusiasts with Rashomon. Toshiro Mifune plays a young detective whose pistol is stolen by a pickpocket. Fearing for his job, and fuelled by embarrassment he sets out to find his pistol, which has been used in two crimes by the thief, in Tokyo during a sweltering heatwave...
Kurosawa's western influences are as clear as ever in Stray Dog, as for all intents and purposes it plays like a conventional American police story. Several scenes reminded me of Orson Welles' later film Touch of Evil, particularly an extended montage sequence with a similar feel to the famous opening shot of Welles' film showing a disguised Mifune walking the streets as he attempts to track down blackmarket arms dealers accompanied by a cacophony of street noise and Latin-jazz-big band music. Another scene where Mifune and the older cop leading the investigation, played by Takashi Shimura, stakeout a Japanese Baseball game, could've been a Hitchcock set-piece. Elements of this film seem to have been referenced in a variety of contemporary works from the doppelganger criminal/detective idea in Michael Mann's Heat to John C Reilly's desperate search for his lost gun in Magnolia.
However, despite the references to conventional genre film, Kurosawa adds depth to his film with several philosophical themes and ideas. First is the subtle way in which the detective and the robber are shown to be connected. Mifune explains how his possessions were all stolen after the war, and that he contemplated turning to crime but decided on the opposite route of law enforcement. The robber, who ends up with Mifune's gun, commits the crimes exactly because he too had his bag of belongings stolen. Mifune feels a deep sense of guilt that his pistol has been used in these crimes and almost breaks down completely when his boss, Shimura, is shot and wounded. The idea resonates with Mifune, that the life of crime he managed to avoid has returned to his life through this chance occurrence. The robber himself, is only seen in the great final chase, but he is given surprising depth of character just in the chase alone. The final chase between the two men is a classic Kurosawa scene. In a tense moment, there is an instinctive reaction by both men that they've finally found each other. Mifune is shot in the arm, out in the countryside, as Mozart drifts from a piano in a nearby house. His blood drips onto the flowers below. The theme that the gun only has a certain number of bullets pays off, as the robber fires twice and misses, leaving the gun empty allowing Mifune to overpower him. The two men wrestle in the flowers, falling into a river and get covered in mud. The robber is eventually overpowered and handcuffed and Kurosawa composes a wonderful shot showing the two, unrecognisable and exhausted men arranged at either side of the frame in the foreground, like a mirror image, while a group of singing schoolchildren walk past in the background. The robber suddenly begins to cry, and howls in anguish. Identity is blurred, the robber is no more evil than the detective, just a weaker man who gave in to the difficult environment he was faced with.
Although some elements of the technique aren't as well developed as Kurosawa's most famous, such as the clumsy flashback intro and narration there are many moments which show the sign of the truly great filmmaker he was to become. The sense of oppressive environment, both place and weather, is strong and it's possibly the sweatiest film I've seen! The detective story itself is pretty compelling, but the final, climactic scene alone transcends simple genre film-making with something profound, poetic and moving.