Wes Anderson, one of Hollywood’s’ more distinct film directors, known for his meticulous shot composition and unique storytelling, returns to the silver screen four years after the Oscar-winning success of “The Grand Budapest Hotel” (2014). The new film, “Isle of Dogs,” features stop motion animation like Anderson’s 2009 film, “Fantastic Mr. Fox,” and introduces characters that are archetypically congruent with many of Anderson’s previous work.

 

Set in Japan twenty years into the future, “Isle of Dogs” is part metanarrative part cultural hybridization. This closed, one-way interaction that is taking place on film, that between Wes Anderson and Japanese culture, is, at its worst, massively insensitive, yet playfully humorous and harmless at its best. While it’s difficult to discern whether the crests make up for the valleys, there are much more of the former.

 

On a surface level, “Isle of Dogs” checks many of the boxes for technically competent and attentive work. The animation is immensely detailed, eradicating any amount of awkward stillness that some stop-motion pictures are hindered by, since motion directly communicates the passing of time. The props and sets are spotless, idealized pieces that rival the consistency and appearance of 3D animation. The overall effect is stop-motion that manages its greatest potential, that of complete immersion, invisibly stylized and enrapturing the audience at every choreographed turn.

 

Unlike some of Wes Anderson’s previous work, which regardless of scope usually managed an impressive degree of character arc, “Isle of Dogs” seems far less concerned with character than it does with the world. Although wholesome, and star-studded, the roster of characters doesn’t bring anything that feels differentiated from his previous films. There are dysfunctional, task-oriented groups, individuals with maladaptive autobiographies, and character development that solipsistically evolves the character(s) that least desire(s) change. To be clear, characters are fully developed, despite what seems like the minimum amount of background and detail necessary to do so predicating that development. Although equally timeless to some of Anderson’s more notable figures, the characters of “Isle of Dogs” feel secondary to the general visual spectacle of the film.

 

The embedded sociopolitical commentary in the film is presumably quite poignant and relevant to the current political climate. Anderson’s commentary is however blatantly referent to current events, and sloppily integrated into a story which pretends to have nothing to do with anything about its own commentary. This is to say the commentary hardly parallels the core interactions of the film. Perhaps it’s the Oscar, perhaps it’s Hollywood, but Anderson’s “Isle of Dogs” reeks ever so much of confused ambition – to make a film with unconventional visuals, compelling characters, and social awareness is a difficult thing to do.

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With each subsequent endeavor, Wes Anderson’s style seemed to have become more aware of its own manner, culminating calmly as the lone tranquil agent amongst the conflict, comedy, and tragedy of “The Grand Budapest Hotel.” Unfortunately, self-awareness has limits. Despite the self-referent nature of “Isle of Dogs,” and the humorous engagement it fosters with its audience, it neglects to involve through empathy of character (and their respective growths), favoring instead to involve by association and identity. The result is a highly enjoyable narrative stiff-armed by its own attempts to relate to its audience – too funny to be taken seriously, and too purposeful to inspire.