Review: Stray Dog

Stray Dog,
Directed by Akira Kurosawa,
Starring Toshiro Mifune, Takashi Shimura, Keiko Awaji, Isao Kimura, Gen Shimizu

Now here is a real treat for cinephiles – the BFI has given this 1949 piece by the legendary Akira Kurosawa the fully restored, 4K treatment for the first time on Blu-Ray, and it looks absolutely brilliant. A Japanese take on the Noir Detective genre, it is set during a blistering heat wave in Tokyo, and the clarity of this lovingly restored edition makes it so that you can almost see every drop of sweat rolling down a character’s face; the sense of that almost unbearable summer heat; just like the much later Do The Right Thing, you can almost feel that heat in the way both the city streets and the characters are framed and shot, making it almost palpable.

Against this burning summer, a young, novice detective, Murakami (the simply brilliant Toshiro Mifune, who, of course, would prove to be a regular collaborator with Kurosawa) feels himself disgraced when he realises he has been pick-pocketed on a packed tram, the thief making off with his service pistol. Ashamed and preparing to likely be dismissed for this, instead he finds his stern but fair chief directing him to do what a detective should do – investigate. And so Murakami will follow one slender lead after another, trying to track down who has his missing weapon, and feeling immense guilt and responsibility when he learns it has already been used on a victim.

A quick summary like that, however, does not do any justice to this film – there’s so much more going on here, from the performance of the actors (not least Mifune), the remarkable cinematography that really gives you a flavour of that very particular period in time (post-war, but still under the Occupation, the streets a mix of the elegant and those still a mess from the war, and the semi-secret black markets, all under that blistering heat), and under that there are comments layered into the story about the state of Japan in this period, of the “apres guerre” (after the war) generation as the older characters refer to men Murakami’s age, but handled carefully because all films had to be approved by the occupying US forces of that time.

Some of the sequences I still found mesmerising to watch, even after some eight decades – one in particular, which sees a ragged figure in the remnants of a very worn WWII army uniform moving through hot, busy streets, exploring the black, markets, talking to the local sex workers, is almost ten minutes long and almost wordless, using a variety of angles and montages. As it turned out, this segment was filmed by Kurosawa’s friend and second unit director Ishirō Honda, who would later earn cinematic immortality with the now-iconic Godzilla movies (in the extras we learn much of this was actually filmed in a real black market location, with much risk to themselves).

It is a tribute to Mifune’s acting ability that it took me a couple of moments in this segment to realise it was actually him, working undercover. Gone was the nervous, polite, deferential novice Murakami, instead here was a grizzled, angry-looking war veteran, a man who radiates menace, his dark expression, his stance, all marking him as a man with a grudge to settle and a powder keg personality; it isn’t just the stubble on his face and his worn uniform that he adopts as a disguise, Mifune alters his entire body language, from posture to expression. It’s an absolute joy to watch an actor this good, captured so well by talented film-makers.

As I mentioned, this was made during the Occupation era following the Japanese surrender in WWII, and while unable to address that too directly, given the US censors wouldn’t pass anything seen as too critical, Kurosawa nevertheless works in some subtle commentary. Just as the classic Noir anti-hero of Western film is often a man damaged by his wartime experiences, so too Murakami. In one heart to heart with the veteran detective Satō (Takashi Shimura, who would become another Kurosawa regular), Murakami tells him he understands some of what drives the thief (and now murderer) , Yusa (Isao Kimura), because at one point, frustrated, angry and lost after the war, he could easily have become him, but instead he chose the path of joining the police.

This is simply a superb piece by a cast and crew at the top of their game. The 4k restoration presents it beautifully, in the original aspect ratio of 1.37:1, complete with a new optional commentary (by Japanese-Australian film-maker Kenta McGrath), a featurette with Kurosawa scholar Jasper Sharp discussing the work and its place in Kurosawa’s oeuvre, a 2002 Toho documentary on the film, and for the first pressing only, a special booklet will be included.

Stray Dog is available from the BFI on Blu-Ray, iTunes and Amazon Prime from January 27th, and can be pre-ordered from the BFI shop here

This review was originally penned for Live For Films

Destroyer

Destroyer,
Directed by Karyn Kusama,
Starring Nicole Kidman, Sebastian Stan, Toby Kebell, Tatiana Maslany, Scott McNairy, Jade Pettyjohn

The detective haunted by past mistakes is such a regular part of the crime movie, that it can be tempting to shrug your shoulders when you see another, but that would be a mistake in the case of Destroyer. Yes, it does mine that oft-excavated vein of mistakes and regrets, but there are several aspects to it that I found made it stand out from so many others. First of all it’s relatively rare to see a woman in the haunted, broken detective role (let alone a woman who carries much of the film), secondly the film takes a very realistic, almost dirty approach to its world and its characters (there is no glamour here, no stylised Noir look to soften the brutality and the regrets, Julie Kirkwood’s outstanding cinematography alternates lonely highways, bleached sunlight or miserable rain, or decrepit, filthy apartments), and thirdly, there is an absolute stand-out (and indeed Golden Globe-nominated) performance from an almost unrecognisable Nicole Kidman (hats off to Bill Corso, Tamil Lane and the rest of the make-up team).

Kidman’s Erin Bell is a burned-out LAPD detective, fallen from her heights as a hot-shot, undercover FBI agent. The special make-up and her performance combine to give us a woman who isn’t just haunted by past mistakes, she’s all but broken under their weight, everything from her blotchy skin and dishevelled hair and clothes to her limping walk and body posture indicates someone not just burdened with a heavy past, but someone who is deep in self-loathing and guilt from it. This isn’t just the mistakes made, this is a person who hates themselves. As the film progresses we flashback between the case Bell is investigating now and the one which went so wrong during her FBI days, the two less colliding together, more being woven into one narrative separated by the years.

The film takes a much more realistic approach than many other crime films – when people fight here there is none of the usual tropes of a grunt when hit then our hero gets right back up, when Bell gets punched, she falls like a real person in pain, throwing up, bleeding. That lack of glamour extends well beyond Kidman’s disfiguring make-up and shabby appearance, even to a sex scene which is possibly one of the least erotic I’ve seen in cinema (a grudging, miserable sex act performed as the price for information, another part of her eroded self-respect worn away). Her self-loathing has alienated all around her, from her partner in the force to her estranged husband and an out of control daughter, everything she is involved in seems toxic, and yet there are hints here of a desperation for some sort of redemption, to help her daughter, to stop her partner being dragged into her mess.

Toby Kebell’s Silas (the criminal behind the incident which ruined her career and toxified her life), and her former FBI partner and lover Chris (Avengers’ Sebastian Stan) both offer excellent support, while the structure of the film toys a little with our expectations of just what mistakes younger Bell made, revealing pieces, tying in to the present-day case and narrative in a very satisfying way, aided by that atmospheric cinematography, the sight of the younger Bell contrasting strongly with the older, ruined version.

But really this is Kidman’s film, she buries herself into the role of Bell, emotionally, physically and mentally, you can feel the damaged edges of Bell’s life, the raw guilt that leaves her feeling that she doesn’t deserve any better, yet still clutches at a chance for some tiny redemption. I’m not going to risk spoilers by going into the plot too much, besides a lot of what works here is the atmosphere, the visuals and the raw, damaged, emotionally-scarred performance by Kidman. A powerful, unusual and haunting addition to the cop with a dark past oeuvre.

Destroyer is released on Digital Download from May 20th, and on DVD and Blu-Ray by Lionsgate from May 27th