Movie Review – Stray Dog

Stray Dog (1949)
Written by Akira Kurosawa & Ryūzō Kikushima
Directed by Akira Kurosawa

When we think about Japanese filmmaker Akira Kurosawa, we typically think of samurai films, his earlier work like Rashomon & the Yojimbo films, or his later epics like Ran or Throne of Blood. But Kurosawa was a far more diverse filmmaker than that. He directed four noir movies in the post-war era of Japan, and Stray Dog served as the way forward for the genre in Japan. Watching Stray Dog today, you can see its influence spread beyond Japan. Noir from China and South Korea show their roots in this earlier picture, its unique mixture of comedy and crime stories. Where American noir was restrained by the morals of the Hays Code, particularly that crime can’t pay and the police cannot be mocked, Japanese cinema had no such restraints. As a result, Stray Dog feels ahead of its time compared to the noir of the States in the 1940s.

Murakami (Toshiro Mifune) is a newbie in the homicide division of the Tokyo police department and has already fucked up big time. While riding a crowded trolley to work, he has his gun stolen. Murakami falls into complete panic, reporting the stolen weapon to his superior, who tells the detective it’s his responsibility to investigate and find it. The young detective descends into the Tokyo underbelly, discovering a black market of illegal weapons sold daily. However, every lead he comes across leads nowhere, and then news arrives that his gun was used to mug a young woman who was killed. Murakami partners with veteran detective Sato (Takashi Shimura), whose methods are more refined and begin to turn up viable leads. The gun starts being passed along, and a metaphorical clock ticks in the background as Murakami rushes to get the weapon back before it is used to kill again.

Inspired by Jules Dassin’s The Naked City (we will watch this one day!) Kurosawa wanted to make his own noir picture. The director collaborated with Ryūzō Kikushima, sending the writer to comb through the Tokyo PD’s files to find interesting cases that could serve as the basis of the story. At the time, there was also an ongoing debate in Japan about the rise in crime following the war’s end, especially juvenile crimes. The whole city feels very Westernized, the clothing & the music especially, which showed the American occupation’s impact on the culture. As Murakami explores the lower rungs of the social ladder, he becomes overwhelmed by how dire and desperate conditions are for the poor. 

The revelatory moment of the film comes when Murakami and Sato narrow down their suspects to the likely person holding the detective’s stolen gun. He’s around the same age as Murakami and a war veteran. Through interviews with the suspect’s family, Murakami learns the man has struggled to make it since he returned from the frontlines, scarred by the horrors he saw in the war, adopting a cynical view of his world. Murakami realizes his worldview has become quite dark, affected by the same things he saw in the war, and now he imposes that onto the Japanese people trying to carve out new lives in the wreckage of the old world. He holds tremendous guilt over the people hurt by his stolen firearm to the point that it drives him mad. In the end, Murakami is chasing a version of himself, and the whole story becomes a narrative about maturation for the central character and Japanese society.

Stray Dog foresees the buddy cop film, being one of the first to put together mismatched investigators and play their clashing personality traits off each other. It’s also an excellent showcase for the acting talents of Toshirio Mifune. I had seen the actor in Yojimbo and Rashomon and was aware of his reputation. However, this role was unlike anything I’d seen him in. He captures the sense of panic, both its severity and humor, giving us a kind of flawed cop you would never see in American theaters in the 1940s. Additionally, the film does a better job of honestly depicting poverty, crime, and sex. Innuendo isn’t used to get around censors; life is just shown on the screen without trying to hide the harsh parts.

Kurosawa’s camera is such a powerful tool, capturing the humidity of a blistering summer day, sweat dripping off our characters, and ceiling fans spinning pointlessly against the heat. The camera moves through the environment with ease. Documentary footage is folded into the narrative, helping to give the film a slight neo-realist feel. The director knows when to let the shot wander and when to tighten it up and reign things in. The moment when Murakami comes across the possessor of his gun is a moment of peak cinematography, a series of quick cuts with everything just snapping into the frame; the adrenaline coursing through Murakami when he realizes who he’s sitting across from is palpable through the screen.

If you have hesitated to get into Kurosawa because you don’t care for samurai films, then Stray Dog and his other three noirs might be a better entry point. This is a director still early in his career but already showing a mastery of the craft. He produced a crime film that could capture the tropes of a noir but also expand the scope to social realism. Stray Dog is a perfect blend of stylization & humanism that gives the film noir genre a freshening up it needed after a decade of being one of the film industry’s dominant styles.